Directed, written, and co-produced by Zoltan Kamondi), Kisertesek ("Temptations") illustrates the struggle between ancient traditions and the modern world of restless young Marci (Marcell Miklos), a fatherless young man who is considered somewhat of an outcast within the community.

The village dignitaries go hunting with the new farm manager... What could go wrong?

When Panni visits her father in the summer, the teenage girl becomes suspicious of Attila's aloofness, which is in fact a cover for his cancer. The secrecy drives a wedge between them.

Geri’s life flashes before him in the “Buhera Matrix,” a cringe-worthy slideshow of childhood photos from Pioneer camp to prom night. He relives the absurd clash between Mickey Mouse and socialist youth rituals, debates the perfect horse-chestnut hole size and survives the notorious fruit-game initiation. As the disastrous graduation and its Bavarian-style sacrifices cap off his painfully vivid memories, the film spins forward through Hungary’s late-20th-and-early-21st-century history through the eyes of a ’70s-born generation.

Hawk and Berry are standing on a high-stand, looking for game. It would be a funny joke, if it weren't so sad.

The Death Prosecutor (...) [focuses] on a significant court case in the period of the post-1956 retaliations, through the true story of a newly graduated prosecutor, Endre Grátz. https://english.nmhh.hu/article/195551/Online_media_has_gained_ground_as_a_source_of_information_on_the_Hungarian_parliamentary_elections

Lili and Pali are "chance" bank robbers, and perhaps "chance lovers" but they don't have the opportunity to pursue their relationship. With stolen money in their backpacks they are constantly on the run and everything seems to go wrong. As they seek refuge in a rundown industrial town they learn they are now famous and have been nicknamed Bonnie & Clyde. A contemporary look at youth in Eastern Europe trying to find truth in a world found on deception.

Between 1993 and 1999, one man robbed 29 financial institutions in Budapest. Banks, post offices and even travel agencies fell victim to his crime spree. The police had no leads and no hope of finding him during his six-year stint. The only clue left behind at the crime scenes was the distinct aroma of whiskey. The media christened him the “Whiskey Bandit”. Never physically harming anyone, many began to eagerly follow his escapades through the media. A Transylvanian immigrant, who also happened to be a goalie for one of the city's largest hockey teams, named Attila Ambrus, was finally identified as the “Whiskey Bandit”. The police had finally captured him... or so they thought.