Category: Jetzt-en

A film by Roderick Warich. Original Thai ver­si­on with German subtitles

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Jen lives in Bangkok – bet­ween the recep­ti­on of an apart­ment block and the hotel rooms of stran­ge men. What she sells is time, inti­ma­cy, some­ti­mes just a moment. When a mee­ting gets out of hand, Wason steps in – a bar­man who has lost more than he lets on. For a short while, they drift through the sul­try nights tog­e­ther.
Then Jen is gone. No trace. No good­bye.
Pim, her flat­ma­te, beg­ins to search for her. Wason fol­lows her. Her trail leads through emp­ty alley­ways, unfa­mi­li­ar rooms, out­stan­ding debts and memo­ries that slip away. All the way to the Cambodian bor­der – or per­haps just back to whe­re Jen had long sin­ce vanis­hed.
When Jen vanis­hes – wit­hout a word, wit­hout say­ing good­bye – her flat­ma­te Pim and the quiet bar­man Wason fol­low her trail. A quiet search beg­ins, through nights, memo­ries – and a city that mis­ses no one.

“If you show a gun in the first act, it must be fired in the third act” – a dra­ma­tic rule by Anton Chekhov, which is about nar­ra­ti­ve eco­no­my, avo­i­ding loo­se ends and buil­ding ten­si­on. In his film Funeral Casino Blues, Roderick Warich shows the gun almost right at the start: Wason (Wason Dokkathum) has it tucked into his wais­t­band; he lifts his shirt to free Jen (Jutamat Lamoon) from an intru­si­ve admi­rer (read: cli­ent). The gun will reap­pear time and again. It is also fired. But this hap­pens off-screen, after fade-to-black sequen­ces, and not neces­s­a­ri­ly in the third act eit­her, becau­se Warich is far remo­ved from any­thing resembling a clear divi­si­on into acts, or inde­ed any struc­tu­red, stan­dar­di­sed nar­ra­ti­ve style.
And that is what makes his film so utter­ly fasci­na­ting, so abso­lut­e­ly worth wat­ching. You just have to let yours­elf be drawn in, and then you can lose yours­elf in hyp­no­tic images in which the came­ra moves through the room, through Bangkok by night; then you can lose yours­elf in the cha­rac­ters, who­se inner­most thoughts we can at best only glim­pse; then you can immer­se yours­elf in a sto­ry that shifts from a love sto­ry to a noir gangs­ter tale, which beco­mes a ghost film wit­hout being a hor­ror film.„
Kinozeit | Harald Mühlbeyer

Credits:

DE 2025, 153 mins · Original Thai ver­si­on with German sub­tit­les
Director: Roderick Warich
Cinematography: Roland Stuprich
Editing: Hannes Bruun
Starring: Jutamat Lamoon · Wason Dokkathum · Jutarat Burinok · Piyapong Saebui · Rinda Hamer · Chayanee Choomnoommanee

Trailer:

nach oben

A film by Sandra Wollner. From 6 August at the fsk. With Q&A on 8 August. In German with English subtitles.

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The last pho­to Jessie took shows the sun over Berlin. It hangs the­re as if not­hing had hap­pen­ed. But Ella has lost her daugh­ter. All she has left is Jessie’s litt­le sis­ter and the com­pli­ca­ted rela­ti­onship with the boy ever­yo­ne bla­mes. The odd trio find them­sel­ves on a fami­ly holi­day that never real­ly was. Under the shim­me­ring sun of Tenerife, memo­ry and the pre­sent beco­me inex­tri­ca­bly intert­wi­ned. The ghosts are everywhere.

“In EVERYTIME, we fol­low a mother who has lost her daugh­ter, the youn­ger sis­ter who has her own uni­que way of coping, and a boy whom ever­yo­ne bla­mes.
Whilst the sun hangs the­re as if not­hing had hap­pen­ed, we watch them as they try to do the right thing. They cling to a fra­gi­le rou­ti­ne, a rehe­ar­sed, prag­ma­tic way of coping with ever­y­day life that does litt­le to con­ce­al the impos­si­ble, unful­fillable wish under­ly­ing it: to somehow return to a time when ‘none of this ever hap­pen­ed’. But our rea­li­ty isn’t
made for that. That’s sim­ply not how the world works.
But then – in this film, it does hap­pen after all, and the impos­si­ble beco­mes pos­si­ble. You turn a cor­ner and step into a sce­ne, and sud­den­ly the world seems to fold in on its­elf and the sun final­ly has the decen­cy to stand still.
And for a moment, or per­haps even fore­ver, ever­y­thing seems to be all right again.
When you enga­ge with such impos­si­bi­li­ties, and tru­ly allow them to hap­pen, tru­ly immer­se yours­elf in them, it seems to me that they reve­al some­thing about the natu­re of human suf­fe­ring, about our lon­gings and per­haps about our very exis­tence. Things that are other­wi­se only pos­si­ble in dreams, we can expe­ri­ence in the cine­ma. That is what cine­ma is for.” Sandra Wollner

Credits:

DE/AT 2026, 123 mins, German with English sub­tit­les,
Director: Sandra Wollner
Cinematography: Gregory Oke
Starring: Birgit Minichmayr, Lotte Shirin Keiling, Tristán López, Carla Hüttermann, Naomi Elia Richard

Trailer:

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A film by Pedro Almodóvar. In Spanish with German subtitles.

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Raúl is a cult film­ma­ker in the midst of a crea­ti­ve cri­sis.
When tra­ge­dy strikes one of his clo­sest col­la­bo­ra­tors, he draws inspi­ra­ti­on from it to wri­te his next film. Little by litt­le, he ima­gi­nes Elsa, a film­ma­ker in the midst of wri­ting a script, who­se jour­ney beg­ins to mir­ror his own.
The two film­ma­kers beco­me two sides of the same cha­rac­ter, in a game of mir­rors whe­re the raw hones­ty of auto­fic­tion reve­als as much as it des­troys. But how far can one go to tell a story?

Credits:

Amarga Navidad
ES 2026, 111 Min., spa­ni­sche OmU
Regie: Pedro Almodóvar
Kamera: Pau Esteve Birba
Schnitt: Teresa Font
mit Bárbara Lennie, Leonardo Sbaraglia, Aitana Sánchez-Gijón und Victoria Luengo.

Trailer:

nach oben

A film by Faek Falak. In Kurdish, Arabic and German with German subtitles.

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A young Kurdish woman in Syria leads a women’s unit into batt­le against ISIS—fighting for free­dom and women’s rights. Her strugg­le is nar­ra­ted by a Yazidi sur­vi­vor who was ens­laved by ISIS as a child and makes clear what is at sta­ke if this fight is lost. And while she sur­vi­ved the hor­ror, a German woman vol­un­t­a­ri­ly joi­n­ed ISIS—and is now at the mer­cy of the con­se­quen­ces of her decis­i­on. Three women, three decis­i­ons, a reflec­tion of cou­ra­ge, suf­fe­ring, and dan­ge­rous delusion.

Credits:

DE 2026, 96 Min., OmU
Regie:  Faek Falak
Kamera: Noah Schuller
Schnitt: Kristina Bogen

Trailer:

nach oben

A film by Regina Schilling. In German with English subtitles.

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Sandra Hüller por­trays Ingeborg Bachmann on an ima­gi­na­ry day in Rome. Regina Schilling’s hybrid film wea­ves tog­e­ther ree­nact­ments, archi­val foo­ta­ge, and Bachmann’s own wri­tin­gs into a por­trait that offers a refres­hing new per­spec­ti­ve on the aut­hor and posi­ti­ons her wri­tin­gs as a refe­rence point in cur­rent deba­tes on gen­der rela­ti­ons and power. P.B (DOKFest München)

Credits:

DE/AT 2026, 95 Min., German OV with English sub­tit­les
Regie:  Regina Schilling
Kamera: Johann Feindt
Schnitt: Carina Mergens
mit: Sandra Hüller

Trailer:

nach oben