Angela Schanelec might very well be the best kept secret of the so-called “Berlin School” of filmmakers. A contemporary of Christian Petzold, Christoph Hochhäusler, Thomas Arslan and Maren Ade, she remains one of the founding figures of the unofficial movement, triggered by a necessity of a new cinema that would witness and delve into Germany’s societal changes and identity reconstruction after the fall of the Wall. Schanelec’s films discreetly compose one of the most coherent, compact bodies of work in contemporary cinema, resonating with powerful observation, restrained emotional landscapes, and a methodical use of expressive film language. Interested in the ineffable side of human relationships and the bits in our lives that fall through the cracks, Schanelec takes an austere, fragmented approach to reality and the multiple ways in which the world displays its mysterious nature. Her films have a formal rigor that brings Robert Bresson or Chantal Akerman to mind, but with a serenity and elusiveness entirely of her own.