“In order to withstand the contempt of those days, I often imagined that the village was a glittering stage. And now I want to return to the village.” Janine has made up her mind. Together with her asthmatic partner, she’s turning her back on Berlin. Yet in the lifeless village streets, her queer appearance doesn’t just awaken positive associations. Processing his own provincial past, Jan Eilhardt weaves a selection of private videoclips and photos into his film which reveal that Janine has been accompanying him for many years. They also show his memories of his mother Brigitte, who realised that growing up in a village formed an important test: rural stigmatisation as a sort of German Little Rock. It’s a path that still lies in front of neighbour Peter, who lives with his overwhelmed mother and his brother Enrico. Janine’s arrival stokes his yearnings, but also implies coming out and all the fears that entails. Eilhardt translates the encounter into a campy, eroticising and often dramatic 360-degree view of a hostile milieu. Confronting old wounds, Janine subverts this milieu with lasciviousness, music and the confidence of someone who’s never had anything to prove to themselves.