Paulina Bachmann

1980: 19 year old Robert, fed up with Hippy phoniness and bourgeoise narrow mindedness alike, flees the German provinces for West Berlin. A tour de force through the glorious dirt of West Berlin ensues. Full of sex, drugs, love and PUNK.

Young Samantha Walker has been tortured by nightmarish visions for years. With the help of Dr. Hoffman, she faces her unknown past by taking his advice and traveling to Germany. Having been adopted in the U.S. as a baby she decides to seek out the true roots of her ancestral past. Her journey leads to "Wallenhausen", a former German convent. Samantha's break-in to the convent at night becomes a fight for life and death as a masked monk starts the merciless killings of her companions one after another. Finally the secret of her past reveals itself and she has to face - the Sin Reaper.

Cleaning plans, empty beer crates and an exploding coffee machine are the least of the problems in the Kreuzberg shared apartment of Julian Meier, Kasimir Müller and Max Schmidt - the three boys couldn't be more different.

Three men and a houseboat: Three crisis-plagued Stuttgarters sailed for a week on the Havel in the direction of Müritz. The unfamiliar and not so tranquil Dreisamkeit brings so many things to light, which has hitherto been successfully concealed and repressed. The summer boat trip paves the way to the realization that a turnaround in life could not hurt.

Burned out and lonely Rocky is almost 50 years old and has seen better times as a womanizer. One day, Thorben shows up at his door claiming to be his son. He is trying to get advice on how to be successful with women.

Invited by the conductor Premil Petrovic to stage Arnold Schoenberg’s Pierrot Lunaire, a musical theater work from 1912 based on the poems of Albert Giraud, LaBruce transposed a strange and tragic episode of true crime onto the composition. Complementing the original atonal score is a narrative about a trans man who is outed by his girlfriend’s father and forbidden from seeing the young woman again. Crestfallen, the protagonist decides to prove the fact of his manhood by castrating a taxi driver and then revealing his newly transplanted member to the two of them. This story, which for LaBruce “serves as a kind of allegory for all gender radicals and outcasts driven to extremes by the disapproval and hostility of the dominant order,” is rendered in a visual style that nods to the era of Schoenberg’s melodrama. LaBruce cheekily appropriates the formal vocabulary of silent cinema with black-and-white photography, irises, and intertitles like “A cock, a cock, my kingdom for a cock!”