If Pigeons Turned to Gold

Have you ever grieved for someone who hasn’t died yet? Pepa Lubojacki documented the lives of four family members over five years, primarily her brother David, an alcoholic and a homeless, “unhoused” person. Through a remarkably intimate diary collage, Lubojacki attempts to unravel the roots of intergenerational adversity that repeatedly manifests itself in the form of severe addiction. Textual sculptures, long-term observations, synth-infused beats, and childhood photographs animated by artificial intelligence merge into a striking and playful revelation of a (self-)destructive family history. The recognition of shared pain is ruthless, but filled with love. Formally inventive and ludic diary recordings open a dialogue with stylized memories, computer-manipulated photographs, and graphic interventions, creating a polyphony that negotiates with the past. Extremely unsentimental and yet warm and unpretentious, the film traces the causes and consequences of addiction, asking where love ends and control begins, and what respecting a loved one really means: insisting on saving them, or accepting them without embellishment. If Pigeons Turned to Gold records the act of surrender, but also provides a glimmer of hope, a statement of strength and a process of reconciliation with what we cannot change in our family relationships, despite good intentions. Pepa Lubojacki revives the past and builds a whole context that protects David and their relatives who also deal with addiction, from the judgment and ignorance of their surroundings. In a tender encounter, for a moment or two, they once again become lonely children in search of healing without necessarily having to identify the cause of guilt. The film’s ending brings a fragile possibility of transformation, embodied by the father’s dilapidated house that Pepa transforms into a safe space. The pigeons may not have turned to gold, but they still return to the house that becomes the home they longed for so strongly.