In the Aisles movie review & film summary (2019)
One of those figures is the introverted Christian, played by Franz Rogowski of “Transit” with reserved, observant calm. Sometimes, you do wish he were a little more active or talkative, just to enliven the film’s tempo a touch. And yet, Christian appears a bit shy, a bit awkward. It’s his first day on the job under the command of a gentle boss named Rudi (Andreas Leupold). There, Christian would be in charge of the night shift in the Beverage Department, guided by the caring wings of veteran worker Bruno (Peter Kurth). In the opening moments, Bruno patiently shows Christian the ropes and teaches him the confusing art of operating a forklift. OK, perhaps it’s not strictly art—we’re merely talking about an indoor vehicle that is meant to be driven sideways here. But thanks to Stuber’s insistence on seeing poetic rhythms everywhere he looks, Peter Matjasko’s cinematography approaches something reminiscent of a romantic dance, scored to Strauss’ “The Blue Danube Waltz,” no less.
And we haven’t even gotten to the above-mentioned love story yet, which sees Christian grow an innocent crush on his charming co-worker Marion. Played by a feather-light Sandra Hüller—nothing like the austere character she superbly portrayed in “Toni Erdmann”—Marion engages in mild flirtation with Christian, but being married and carrying scars of her own, doesn’t push the envelope too far. While the duo tiptoe around their mutual affection for one another during stolen moments across the orderly aisles and in lifeless break rooms, Stuber continues to build a big world inside somewhere so conceptually small and limiting. We witness the workers’ after-work beer sessions, Christmas celebrations and various trivial matters throughout ungodly work hours. Always filmed with a strong sense of composition and handle on negative space, these scenes accentuate the tight-knit quality of this makeshift community, while occasionally highlighting the respective loneliness of its members.
Thankfully, the film’s overall optimism doesn’t come with oblivious dust pink hues—no one here is without problems; everyone is clinging onto something to make ends meet or simply, to make it to the next day. With the risk of spoiling things slightly, some aren’t quite that lucky. Eventually, a grim tragedy cuts through the film’s overarching sense of peace and harmony, a troubled past for Christian gets revealed and hardships for Marion, who mysteriously disappears from the shift for a while, are hinted at. Still, occasional flickers of light shine through in abundance whenever workers gather around for cigarette breaks or freely help themselves to expired snacks they are supposed to be disposing, not eating. (It’s a shared secret among the employees.) It’s these patient moments that build a palpable sense of camaraderie.
