“Cinema begins where people can speak freely about cinema itself – not only about financing plans, but also about why they make films in the first place”
– The head of the Bulgarian industry gathering discusses creative freedom and the secret ingredient in making the Meetings an unmissable rendezvous
Cineuropa talked to Sofia Meetings head Mira Staleva about this year’s edition (18-22 March), Bulgarian cinema’s place in the movie scene, and the novelties and challenges for this iteration of the gathering. She also breaks down creative freedom and the secret ingredient in making the Meetings an unmissable rendezvous.
Cineuropa: Sofia Meetings has become a key moment in the Bulgarian and regional audiovisual calendar. What defines the spirit of this 23rd edition, and what are you most proud of in the programme you’ve built?
Mira Staleva: One thing that is very important for us is to preserve Sofia Meetings as a space for genuine creative encounters. Of course, there are pitching sessions, meetings and industry events: they are necessary. But what we try to safeguard, perhaps even more carefully, is the atmosphere in which people can speak freely about cinema itself – not only about financing plans or market strategies, but also about why they make films in the first place. It is about stories, ideas, doubts and obsessions. Cinema begins there. Today, everything is becoming very formal and efficient, sometimes almost too efficient. We try to maintain a slightly different spirit: to be a place where conversations can continue over coffee, where people argue about films and where they discover unexpected affinities. And protecting that informal creative space is becoming one of the most important missions for platforms like Sofia Meetings. Because cinema is not only an industry; it is an art form, and it needs moments of freedom in order to exist.
Over the past two decades, Sofia Meetings has become a key moment in the Bulgarian and regional audiovisual calendar, a place where projects, talents and a surprising amount of coffee converge. What defines this 23rd edition is the combination of ambition, curiosity and a certain sense of friendly chaos that always seems to emerge when filmmakers, producers and festival programmers are in the same room. And I am particularly proud of this year’s line-up: it includes a diverse selection of emerging voices, projects with bold visions and teams ready to collaborate across borders. And, as already mentioned, I am proud of the spirit of the event, with its informal, slightly unpredictable energy that allows serious discussions to happen alongside laughter, debates and the occasional argument.
Every edition brings new approaches, formats or partnerships. What are the most significant innovations or changes you’ve introduced this year?
Every year, we try to adjust the platform carefully, not by reinventing everything from scratch, but by paying close attention to how the audiovisual landscape is evolving and how filmmakers’ needs are changing. Sofia Meetings has always been a living organism, and part of its vitality comes from this constant process of listening and adapting. We are opening up more conversations around new storytelling formats, including cross-media approaches and the relationship between cinema and literature, particularly through book adaptations. At the same time, we are incorporating discussions on digital technologies and sustainability, both of which are shaping the future of audiovisual production and the way stories are created and shared. And let’s not forget plan A for this planet, as there is no plan B.
One exciting development for this edition is that ARTE Kino will present its award at Sofia Meetings for the first time, which adds another meaningful opportunity for emerging projects to gain visibility and support within the European film ecosystem. We are also placing greater emphasis on the dialogue between generations within the industry. Creating spaces where emerging filmmakers can meet experienced producers, festival programmers and sales agents is essential for the vitality of the platform. Very often, the most valuable moments at Sofia Meetings are not necessarily the formal pitch sessions, but the spontaneous conversations that happen afterwards, when people finally start speaking less about strategies and more about cinema itself.
Running an industry platform of this scale is never without its difficulties. What challenges have you faced, and how have they shaped the way the event has evolved over time?
Running Sofia Meetings is a bit like producing a film that never quite wraps: the cast keeps changing, the script evolves on its own, and the budget occasionally reminds you who’s really in charge. The challenges are manifold (capacity and logistical issues, shifting industry trends and so on), but these very difficulties have shaped the Meetings into what they are today: a flexible, creative space where structure meets imagination, and where unexpected and extraordinary collaborations often begin during the most ordinary moments.
And of course, a big round of applause for the team! My deepest thanks go to the brilliant, tireless people who make Sofia Meetings happen. They navigate last-minute changes, endless schedules and my occasional dramatic declarations about cinema with a calmness I can only admire. Simply put, Sofia Meetings would be nothing without them.
You’ve had a front-row seat to the transformation of Bulgarian cinema since Sofia Meetings launched. How would you describe that journey?
Over the last 23 years, I’ve witnessed Bulgarian cinema evolve in ways that are both inspiring and slightly terrifying, a bit like trying to herd cats while they’re juggling Molotov cocktails. Bulgarian cinema is wonderfully different: no single trend, no uniform style… Yet somehow, films and talents keep reaching the biggest international festivals. Chaos seems to be the secret ingredient. What has changed? The ambition is sharper, the scripts are stronger, and producers, directors and writers are getting cleverer at navigating both local funding headaches and European co-production labyrinths. Resources are still limited, access is uneven, and mentorship often feels like a game of survival, but somehow, the films keep coming, often against all odds, and occasionally against common sense, too. What hasn’t changed, and probably never will, is the unpredictability and the stubbornness. Yet the slightly absurd energy is what makes Bulgarian cinema exciting. Each generation pushes a little further, daring to tell stories that are poetic, bold and sometimes deliciously strange. And in the end, the films keep surprising the world, which is remarkable, considering the odds.
