Leonie Bensch shines as overworked nurse in an understaffed hospital in urgent Berlinale Special feature
The opening shot of Petra Volpe’s intense hospital drama, nurse uniforms are transported along an automatic cleaning line. This metaphor for the strict mechanical rhythm of medical care work and the erasure of the disregard towards its professionals is strangely reminiscent of the first scenes of Edward Berger’s war epic All Quiet On the Western Front which sees soldier’s uniforms cleaned, mended and redistributed to the next battalion. Every day in a former hospital the tight plot is set in is certainly a battle for young nurse Floria (an excellent Leonie Benesch). In the afternoon the single mother starts the titular Late Shift during which she has to cover several wards.
Long camera takes follower her closely through the cold white hallways where she is stopped regularly by patients or their relatives. They are left waiting for hours, sometimes days for medication, treatments or information on their own state of health or that of their loved ones. Every exchange of words takes up precious minutes from Floria’s time which is extra scarce since one of her colleagues is absent and the hospital seriously understaffed. The problem of understaffing and shortage of nurses extends to the whole medical sector, not only in Switzerland but also Germany and Austria. Volpe points to this impending medical crisis in a text at the end of her film.
Though she doesn’t name the reasons, the tense scenario hints at them. Minimal wages, excruciating work hours, overtime being the norm and most of all low social prestige. The nursing profession is commonly looked down upon as menial work. Nurses are seen as disposable rather than as medical multitaskers and backbone of the health system. Part of the film’s mission is to change this perception which brings the main character – whom the German original title refers to as a “hero” – close to idealisation. Floria is almost too good to be true. “You’re an angel”, one lonely patient (Urs Bihler) writes her on a note before leaving the hospital on his own.
It’s one of several moments of understated escalation the dire consequences of which are only implied. The man has a cancer diagnosis of which he never learns since no doctor has time to talk to him. Floria does everything possible to make up for the system’s countless deficits to care for her patients not only medically but emotionally. The supporting characters represent a cross section of society. To her credit Volpe tries to steer clear of stereotypes though she more than once comes uncomfortably close to them. There is the arrogant privately insured patient (Jürg Plüss) and the chain-smoking, alcoholic social case. But both gradually reveal more nuances.
So do the Turkish brothers who fear for their mortally ill mother or the elderly woman with dementia (Margherita Schoch). To calm her, Floria sings verses from Matthias Claudius’ “Abendlied” and the somber lines take on parenthetical implications. Such moments could easily decline into kitsch but the brisk pace and taut execution keep sentimentality at bay. Carefully researched details, some of which might shock international audiences (yes, metamizole is still legal in Switzerland, Germany and Austria) the use of actual medical professionals in minor roles and the aura of social realism create a workplace drama that adds up to something more profound than its alarming political message.
- OT: Heldin
- Director: Petra Volpe
- Screenplay: Petra Volpe
- Year: 2025
- Distribution | Production © TrustNordisk
