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GOCRITIC! Fest Anča 2025

GoCritic! Feature: Through the curves of bodies and the sketches of imagination at the 18th Fest Anča

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- Solidarity and warmth shone through the 2025 edition of Slovakia’s Fest Anča International Animation Film Festival

GoCritic! Feature: Through the curves of bodies and the sketches of imagination at the 18th Fest Anča

While riding a bus to the small town of Žilina in northern Slovakia, I didn’t expect to be so mesmerised by what awaited me. The Fest Anča International Animation Film Festival has been on my radar for some time now. Colourful posts were filling my Instagram feed, and the organisers in grey and pink hats, speaking in such familiar yet not-quite understandable language, were showing up in my Insta stories for weeks, inviting me to come celebrate the 18th edition with them. That’s why I was over the moon when I heard I would be able to attend the festival thanks to the GoCritic! workshops, co-presented with Cineuropa.

It was 24 June when I arrived and received my accreditation, which, unlike most film festivals, came in the form of a coloured wristband indicating guest type. It frustrated me at first, but with time I got used to it. Perceiving it as something entertaining, it eventually made the experience feel like a mix between a youth summer camp and a film festival. Besides, with all the students and mostly young audiences, that feeling wasn’t totally out of place.

The festival kicked off with the Student Forum, where twelve film schools from across Europe, including Slovakia, the Czech Republic, Poland, Hungary, the Netherlands, Slovenia, Estonia, Portugal, Romania and Croatia, were invited to take part in pitches, presentations and mentoring meetings. In the end, the best pitch received €500 and an invitation to all the animation festivals that are part of the Animation Festival Network (Animest in Bucharest, Anifilm in Liberec, Animafest in Zagreb, Fest Anča in Žilina, Animateka in Ljubljana). This year’s winner was Aleskandra Andrijewska from the Polish National Film, Television and Theatre School in Łódź, with her project Wiosna (“Spring”), which portrayed a young woman experiencing her first love. And with that, the festival had officially begun.

Cockroach Calisthenics by Sawako Kabuki

The six days from Tuesday to Sunday were packed with screenings, meetings and networking opportunities. However, compared to other festivals, here the pressure of attending everything didn’t prevail, and instead of feeling bad for not sitting in the theatre as long as physically (or not) possible, I felt at ease when my eyes were devouring one animation after another.

And oh, how hypnotising some of them were, like Goodbye Jerome (2022) by Adam Sillard and Chloé Farr, where every frame looked as if it had been drawn by an acid-fuelled mind. How funny the dialogue was in Free the Chickens (2024) by Matúš Vizár, where four hungry vegan activists found themselves trapped in a forest with nothing but chickens. How thought-provoking the ideas were in Murmur (2024) by Veronika Valentová, which delved into the harsh realities of living with tinnitus, and where the persistent sound echoed in my mind long after the ending credits rolled. And oh, how mesmerising it was to see it all unfold on the big screen.

Since it was the 18th edition, the festival approached a more mature theme. The main section Our Body, curated by Ema Nemčovičová and Jakub Spevák, was divided into six special screenings that explored the themes of body perception, physical transformation and intimacy – along with broader topics tied to one’s existence within the world. Two of the special guests this year were Sawako Kabuki and Sara Koppel, both known for pushing boundaries through their unique animation styles. Kabuki’s work often features surreal, butt-shaped figures and fluid, colourful motions, while Sara Koppel explores sexuality through soft, hand-drawn animation that is both sensual and introspective. With their screenings, like the relentless farce of Kabuki’s Cockroach Calisthenics (2021), or Koppel’s ecologically-conscious yet erotic 2nd Day & the End of the World (2025), they invited audiences into a world of deeper acceptance and diversity.

What surprised me the most is that wherever I went and whomever I talked to, I could feel the solidarity and warmth. At the closing ceremony the festival director Ivana Sujová summarised this year’s edition with the words: “Fest Anča isn’t just about films. It’s about people, shared moments and the community we build together. In an uncertain world, community is precisely the place where we can lean on each other, share what we’re experiencing and where belonging isn’t just a word”. Hence, when the closing party at Stanica-Žilina was happening, as warm conversations buzzed around me and the last animations from the Anča in Wonderland section flickered under the bridge, I felt truly grateful to experience that feeling of belonging within such a fascinating community.

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