In an idyllic Hungarian village, time simply seems to drift by. Old men play pétanque in the village square, young women work as seamstresses in a factory and a shepherd girl herds her sheep. In the near distance a farmer is harvesting wheat, which is milled into grain, which in turn disappears into the boiled dumplings an old woman is making for her family. It would appear that all is well in the world. Yet appearances deceive in this little slice of paradise on earth.


A hop and a skip from one village sound to another, punctuated by the chronic hiccupping of an elderly man. The rattling spokes of the mailwoman’s bicycle, the hidden rhythm of the local textile factory’s sewing machines, the crackling of the accelerated growing of plants in the woods. The experimental Hukkle is a lesson in relearning to look as well as to listen closely. Thanks to the near absence of text and music, viewers are treated to an entirely different cinema experience than usual, with the story indeed covertly told especially unveiled in visual clues. This debut feature astounded critics and audiences alike, with György Pálfi winning numerous accolades including the European Film Award in 2002.