The story of four women living on the same farm in different decades unfolds into a cinematic drama about memory, trauma, and choice. After the screening, the film will be discussed with film critic Naya Guseva, exploring the traces of the past in present decisions and relationships. This evening is suitable for those who love auteur cinema and lively conversation after the credits. On screen, the story of one house hidden among the fields unfolds. Over the years, Alma, Erika, Angelika, and Lenka live there. They are not directly connected by meetings, but each goes through similar trials: war, waiting, family roles, attempts to preserve oneself when the world demands submission. The film compares women's fates over a century and shows how personal decisions intertwine with the course of history. Director Masha Shilinski builds the narrative on subtle repetitions and visual rhymes. The same window, the same walls, similar gestures of the heroines seem to resonate with each other across decades. Instead of loud plot twists, details are important here: a glance, a trembling hand, a pause in conversation. The slow rhythm and silence around enhance the feeling that the viewer is eavesdropping on someone’s inner confession rather than watching a typical family saga. The film was created in Germany in 2025 and nominated by the country for an Oscar, but at its center is not awards, but fragile human vulnerability. The screenwriters Louise Peter and Masha Shilinski, along with cinematographer Fabian Gamper, carefully work with the space of the farm: nature beyond the threshold seems free, but it is the house that holds the heroines, imposing on them the duties of daughter, wife, mother, and keeper of memory. In one evening, viewers will have time to watch the full version of the drama lasting almost two and a half hours, and then discuss what they have seen. The discussion is led by film critic Naya Guseva. Together with her, the participants will try to articulate what is common among different generations of women, why the traumas of ancestors continue to hurt decades later, and how cinema helps to articulate what is not usually spoken aloud.