Who needs other people, their proximity, constant and genuine? Cool and precise, as the Berlin Commissioner Robert Karow (Mark Waschke) explores his cases, he sees others around him: They are there, nothing to do.
The cynic takes them and annoyed by his inscrutable behavior and his research departures, not least the Commissioner Nina Rubin (Meret Becker), which is already uncertain after her use of service weapons with death, whether she is still correct in the homicides. But then Karow's neighbor is dead in his apartment. He is lying there for weeks. Nobody notices. Karow also does not, "the brain". He does not see the flies, he does not smell the decomposing corpse. He continues to live his lonely life, wall-to-wall – and only notices by the dead man, with the telling name Irrgang, how lonely this life really is. Karow is shaken.
To watch this shock is not nice, especially since thousands of flies constantly flit in front of the camera and show in this way the cruel anonymity of a big city. Berlin has no hippos here, rather there is merciless and relentless between prefabricated buildings, cheap supermarkets and girls gang. Ultimately just as strange as Karow and his neighbor were all the time. The commissar wants to experience this unknown next door physically in "Life after death".
It becomes an incarnation according to Karov's nature. Rarely, as before, the undercooled commissioner reveals his vulnerability, his grief. His search for affection and warmth. These are silent scenes between Karow and Rubin, the colleagues, who are often unable to take themselves seriously and yet always feel a certain admiration for each other.
"You're not alone, Karow, I'm here," Rubin says, hugging him intently. It is an almost transcendental moment in this episode, which, on the occasion of the anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall, leads over the (until now little-known) chapter of the death penalty in the GDR to the crucifixion of Jesus. But Jesus is not the answer to the question of a life that should have been quite different, but the thief Dismas, this cross-linked patron of the condemned to death.
The director Florian Baxmeyer staged this Sunday Crime lesson in the history of religion with Karow as diligent teacher and student at the same time as running parallel stories of youth violence, stress disorder, revenge and – one is finally in Berlin – overheated rental market.
All the threads running side by side lead time and again to the question of guilt and atonement, of victims and perpetrators whose answers change depending on their perspective. At the end of the inconspicuous murderer rises quietly, takes his things calmly and slow pace of an aging man the passage to confession.