‘Hysteria’ review: Tense German satirical thriller eyes breakout status

Dir/scr: Mehmet Akif Büyükatalay. Germany. 2025. 104mins

It should be a golden opportunity. Recent university graduate Elif (Devrim Lingnau) has scored an intern position on a film directed by a rising star filmmaker, Yigit (Serkan Kaya), and produced by Elif’s idol and inspiration, Lilith (Nicolette Krebitz). It tackles weighty themes, revisiting a period of inflamed racism in Germany – specifically a 1993 arson attack on the home of immigrants in the town of Solingen. But during the shoot, a burned Quran is found on the set. And Elif finds herself caught in the crossfire of rapidly escalating tensions, in this excellent satirical thriller which deftly handles the most inflammatory of hot button topics.

As thought provoking as it is entertaining

Director Mehmet Akif Büyükatalay returns to Berlin with his second feature, having won the festival’s best first feature award for his 2019 debut Oray, which went on to futher awards. He is also active as a producer, with credits including Cem Kaya’s award-winning 2022 documentary Love, Deutschmarks and Death. With its taut pacing, dark humour and astringently satirical tone, Hysteria should considerably boost Büyükatalay’s profile. Sharp-witted works that deal with filmmaking are a no-brainer when it comes to festival programming, so Hysteria is likely to have a healthy life on the festival circuit. But it is is also well positioned for crowd-pleasing arthouse breakout success – there’s a touch of Ruben Ostlund’s satirical venom, but the film takes a measured, intelligent approach to its potentially incendiary themes.

Another reference point is Naqquash Khalid’s In Camera: both pictures interrogate the idea of ‘otherness’ and question the role of art and media in creating images and shaping perspectives. But Hysteria also weaves in a critique of class and privilege for good measure. It sounds heavy going but, while Büyükatalay’s observations are biting, the flashes of humour and the brisk pacing makes for a viewing experience that is as thought provoking as it is entertaining.

Lingnau, who brilliantly nails the rabbit-in-the-headlights gaze of someone who is constantly realising new depths and gravity to their fuck up, is a key asset. Elif is ambitious, so tries to cover her tracks when, after the fateful book-burning shooting day, she is tasked with driving the extras back to the asylum centre where they live, and to take the reels back to Lilith’s apartment. The problem is, she has lost the keys to Lilith’s pad. Unwilling to admit her mistake, she puts up flyers and gets a text from a stranger claiming to have found them. In a flood of relief, Elif texts back the address – only to realise that there is now a stranger with a set of keys and the address to use them.

The anger about the Quran has also rapidly become superheated, with Yigit self-righteously claiming that he is being censored, and the extras, particularly playwright and aspiring filmmaker Mustafa (Aziz Çapkurt), deriding his project as cheap and the Quran incident as offensive. Then, just when Elif thinks that she might have just about got away with the key debacle, the film footage goes missing.

Büyükatalay incrementally builds the tension, both by conventional means – Marvin Miller’s score of itchy, paranoid plucked strings sounds similar to his composition for Ilker Catak’s The Teacher’s Lounge, and it works just as effectively – and by weaving phone, internet and surveillance footage into the story. Like any Gen Z kid who has been backed into a corner, Elif knows how to weaponise her tech: paranoid about a potential break in, she turns her laptop into a motion sensitive spy cam, contributing several chilling sequences. And YouTube clips, tiktok and phone messages are also integral throughout.

There is a sense of nervy mounting paranoia, of a pressure cooker about to blow. Even so, little can prepare us for the superbly staged explosive confrontation in the horribly funny final act.