In Thomas Stuber's austere drama about the lives of supermarket employees in Germany, Strauss' 'The Blue Danube' conveys the lyrical magic of forklifts skating amidst the vast rows of floor-to-ceiling shelves, paying homage to Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey. Introvert Christian (Franz Rogowski) has a chequered past but finds work as a shelfstacker at a Costco-style supermarket. He's urged to hide his tattoos and wear his name tag to maintain the company's clean-cut image. Assigned to the beverages department, Christian finds a trusty mentor in no-nonsense veteran Bruno (Peter Kurth), who schools him on the politics of 'forklift conflicts' and who patiently trains him to drive pallet jacks in between smoke breaks on the sly.
Christian's first time operating a pallet jack is a wry exercise in slapstick. Possessing a reserved charm, Rogowski makes the meek Christian likeable with a largely physical performance of bashful turns of the cheek, wistful glances and approving nods. Christian's frequent encounters at the coffee machine with Marion (Sandra Huller) from the Sweets aisle sends tongues wagging, but their innocent flirtations barely crack the ice. Upon learning of Marion's martial unhappiness, Christian's wounded vulnerability compels him to self-medicate with alcohol to numb the pain.
Stuber would have done well to play up the romance angle to give his inert film more energy and direction, but that's not the goal here. 'In The Aisles' celebrates the human connections formed in the daily grind of work. Christian and Bruno bond during smoke breaks, looking out to the world beyond from behind a wire fence, with the older Bruno reminiscing of Germany before reunification when he used to drive trucks, recalling the landmarks that were markers that told him home was close. Stuber is careful not to turn it into a battle cry against the collossus of global capitalism, but the bleakness hangs over like a dark cloud nonetheless. 'In The Aisles' handles tonal shifts well, and by adding deadpan jokes to undercut the gritty, urban gloom, its shades of light and dark are sketched with convincing realism; however, more laughs to cut through the grey wouldn't have gone astray.
Christian's first time operating a pallet jack is a wry exercise in slapstick. Possessing a reserved charm, Rogowski makes the meek Christian likeable with a largely physical performance of bashful turns of the cheek, wistful glances and approving nods. Christian's frequent encounters at the coffee machine with Marion (Sandra Huller) from the Sweets aisle sends tongues wagging, but their innocent flirtations barely crack the ice. Upon learning of Marion's martial unhappiness, Christian's wounded vulnerability compels him to self-medicate with alcohol to numb the pain.
Stuber would have done well to play up the romance angle to give his inert film more energy and direction, but that's not the goal here. 'In The Aisles' celebrates the human connections formed in the daily grind of work. Christian and Bruno bond during smoke breaks, looking out to the world beyond from behind a wire fence, with the older Bruno reminiscing of Germany before reunification when he used to drive trucks, recalling the landmarks that were markers that told him home was close. Stuber is careful not to turn it into a battle cry against the collossus of global capitalism, but the bleakness hangs over like a dark cloud nonetheless. 'In The Aisles' handles tonal shifts well, and by adding deadpan jokes to undercut the gritty, urban gloom, its shades of light and dark are sketched with convincing realism; however, more laughs to cut through the grey wouldn't have gone astray.