With works about the gruelling life of cleaning staff and the victim of a racist attack, two of the most powerful German films are screening in the Berlinale's Panorama section.
The hard work of cleaning buildings often takes place at night and remains invisible – and it's no different at the Berlinale. This is probably the big difference between Ich verstehe Ihren Unmut (I Understand Your Displeasure) and Petra Volpe's film Heldin (Heroine, Switzerland/Germany 2025), which became a crowd favourite last year. It dealt with the self-sacrificing work of nurses and carers, to whom we can and should express our gratitude in real life too.The Exploitative Everyday Life of Cleaning Staff
When cleaning lady Heike does her job well, however, no one notices. The only thing that gets noticed is the dirt when there is no time left and the customers complain. They do so constantly in Kilian Armando Friedrich's harsh social realist drama, because that is Heike's position as head of a cleaning crew. At the lowest level of middle management, she is under pressure from above and below, organises appointments, gives instructions and steps in herself when someone is ill. When she is on the phone in her car, the sheer logistics of it all make your head spin. In the film, only stockbrokers and bankers act like this. But of course we are talking about the low-wage sector here.Ich verstehe Ihren Unmut was filmed with amateur actors, and Sabine Thalau in particular, who appears so spirited and repeatedly desperate, is a real discovery. The camera follows her closely, not wanting to objectify her and her environment, which consists of people of almost every nationality, but rather to allow us to empathise with her experience of an exploitative everyday life on the verge of exhaustion. As in the best films by Ken Loach or the Dardenne brothers, Heike is no saint; in capitalism, everyone gets their hands dirty. You may like her anyway, or precisely because of that. And you admire how uncompromisingly yet sensitively the film condenses current discourses and reveals the often inhumane mechanisms of outsourcing and gig business.
Gripping Legal Thriller With a Cool Heroine
At the other end of the income scale, we see German-Korean Seyo Kim working in Staatsschutz (Prosecution). As a young public prosecutor in a large East German city and the heroine of a dark legal thriller, she is an unusual choice for the role. Seyo wants to make her way in an institution she believes in. When she becomes the victim of a racist attack, this belief is shaken. Declared biased herself, she undertakes investigations on her own. It seems that the bias lies more on the side of her own judiciary, which remains inactive and perhaps even sympathises with right-wing extremist forces.Director Faraz Shariat won numerous awards at the 2020 Berlinale, also shown in Panorama, with his queer coming-of-age drama Futur Drei. Born and raised in Germany as a second-generation Iranian migrant, he now turns his attention back to marginalised groups. Staatsschutz is not only a compelling anti-fascist statement, but also a gripping thriller in the American style. First, Seyo – who can afford it – buys a black muscle car à la Knight Rider, which serves as both protective armour and a means of self-assertion. Under her balaclava, she mutates into a cool ninja fighter, fabulously played by 25-year-old theatre actress Chen Emilie Yan.
However, this rebellious play with genre is not an end in itself. Shariat explicitly sees his film as a call to defend institutions, especially in times when they are under threat. The system must be reformed, perhaps even protected from itself. Who better to do this than those who are most in need of its protection?
February 2026