NO MAN’S LAND is a kaleidoscopic portrait of a team of bullet biters. Instead of seeing their old lives swept away, they see new frameworks emerge in the corona crisis. If fate takes everything out of our hands and even wipes our streets clear, what happens then? Are we discovering something new? It is a visual rendition of the fragile and penetrating ‘monologues intérieur’ that we carry with us when the hamster wheel stops turning.


This is the zeitgeist of tomorrow captured in the words and imagination of a motley group of inspiring individuals; from tattoo king Henk Schiffmacher, to actress and entrepreneur Hanna Verboom, from hip-hop artist Dio, to violinist Noa Wildschut.


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An occasional ‘No Man’s Land’-collective of 20 creative minds is living proof that the corona crisis doesn’t just have to be restrictive. They all selflessly supported the message: from the director to the lightsman, from PR agency to post-editing, from drone pilot to subtitler and caterer. They were all driven by a fiery faith in human power, which can make the world after the lock-down a better place than it was before the crisis. A parallel process emerged between creation and subject: together they filled No Man’s Land with a firm belief in positivity and (self)reflection.


An eclectic ensemble of heavyweights from the film industry and a number of debutants (inexperienced, but visionary) arose; a group that would never have crossed paths without the corona crisis.


Not to mention that, despite a project of this caliber, a large part of the crew was only able to treat each other to a Zoom-smile prior to production. The crew persisted and No Man’s Land now stands, just as vigorous as its plea to remain innovative in times of crisis.

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The edit switches between realism and raw portraits, alternated with dreamy sequences. Modern dancer Simon Bus is at the core of the story and gracefully interprets the monologues intérieur of the people portrayed. Creative Director Luna Michel also adds an array of eye-catching metaphors: from Yuki Kempees’ smouldering book throne in which old perspectives go up in smoke, to Hanna Verboom’s (literal and figurative) reflection on a mirrored staircase and Dio’s unexpectedly fertile soil in Amsterdam’s darkest alleyway: concrete, where flowers take root in the darkness.

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