„My life is a prison“, Adelina says. The young woman is smoking and looking into the camera, her parents sitting on the sofa to her right and left. In black and white and the narrow 4:3 ratio, this family scene feels oppressive: Adeline spent eleven years under house arrest here, with a father who refuses to accept her identity and a mother who seems loving but powerless. In Georgia, there is neither freedom nor security for trans persons like Adelina. Anti-queer attacks happen in broad daylight; the legal situation of the LGBTQ community has recently deteriorated further. When the protagonist at last leaves her parents’ village to go to Vienna, the style of Rati Tsiteladze’s debut film also changes. The lipstick glows red, the lights of the big city neon yellow. A different, freer life seems possible. But the freedom brings new challenges: financial and health problems, communicating in a foreign language – and loneliness. “A Song Without Home” is the intimate, impressionistic long-term portrait of a person who wants to define herself and clings to an unshakeable conviction: “No law can erase who we are.”

Jan-Philipp Kohlmann

At a vocational college for the hotel industry, Alma, Moussa, Chaïli, Sarah and their classmates swap their everyday clothes, smartphones and chewing gum for uniforms and serving trays. At the college restaurant and in the classroom, they learn the rules and precisely processes linked to French restaurant service: a field in which tradition, discipline and perfection are a priority. Strict, yet fair, the teachers convey the value of a profession that demands patience and putting one’s needs to the side above all else. Between teaching sessions and the different components of service, the portrait of a generation confronted with the expectations of the labour market comes into focus: they need to learn a profession and conform while simultaneously looking for recognition and their own path. The film observes these young people in their training routines with sympathy and attentiveness and explores the contrasts between the idealised image of gastronomy and the harsh reality. For them, this training isn’t always a decision based on conviction, but merely one of the few possible paths into professional life. A lively, unadorned look at becoming an adult and looking for one’s place in a future that offers little and demands many compromises.

Lina Dinkla