Three people, four workstations, one server rack that sounds like a small storm. Everything you see on this site passed through at least two of us, and usually all three.
Nordlicht Filmwerk started in 2017 as two freelancers sharing a sublet in Ottensen and arguing about whether the studio name should be in German (it should, said Marek, and he was right, as usual). The first paying job was a 45-second 3D animation of a fish finger for a supermarket chain. We've come a long way; the fish finger is still in the showreel as a matter of principle.
Today we're a compact studio of three specialists who deliberately stayed small. No account managers, no juniors learning on your budget — when you hire us, you get the people whose names are on the work. When a project needs more hands, we pull from a trusted circle of freelancers we've known for years, and we stay responsible for every frame either way.
Two things, really. We make films that happen to be built in 3D — product films, museum installations, animated explainers that don't look like animated explainers. And we build the immersive versions of those films for VR and AR: stereo 360°, real-time engines, headsets of every flavour.
The through-line is the camera. Whether it's a virtual one orbiting a watch movement or a physical one bolted to a gallery wall, our work starts with a question about the viewer: where do you want them to stand, and what should they feel standing there?
Started in architectural visualisation in Warsaw, defected to film in 2012. Directs most of the CGI work and has strong, defensible opinions about lens flares (against) and bokeh (for). Has never missed a deadline. Annoying, but true.
Ex-game developer from Malmö, six years on AAA titles before deciding corporate clients complain less than publishers. Runs our Unreal pipeline and can be bribed into after-hours Beat Saber. Wrote the stereo 360° toolkit behind the Meridian films.
Keeps the whole thing moving and cuts the films besides. Came from documentary post-production, which explains both his calm under deadline fire and his conviction that "we'll fix it in the edit" is a lifestyle. Records foley in the stairwell when the mood strikes.
The kettle's usually on, and we're always up for talking shop — even before you have a budget, honestly.