Ali: Fear Eats the Soul

In West Germany, several months after the Munich Massacre, a 60-year-old widow and window cleaner named Emmi [Brigitte Mira] seeks a little warmth as she slips into a rain-soaked bar and listens to the music drifting from inside. The barmaid, [Barbara Valentin], goads Ali [El Hedi ben Salem], a Moroccan Gastarbeiter in his late thirties, into asking Emmi to dance. What begins as a spontaneous dance blossoms into an unlikely friendship: Emmi and Ali grow closer, he ends up spending the night, and soon he moves in, turning Emmi’s quiet routine into something new and contested.

To share her happiness, Emmi tells her daughter Krista [Irm Hermann] and her son-in-law Eugen [Rainer Werner Fassbinder]. Eugen greets the news with skepticism, and Krista dismisses it as a folly born of years of widowhood. The film then follows a delicate balancing act as Emmi’s joy clashes with the weight of social judgment and familial doubt, exploring how prejudice, aging, and love intersect in a small, insular community.

trouble arrives when the landlord’s son arrives, misreading the situation and warning that subletting violates the tenancy agreement, giving Ali a day to leave. In that moment, Emmi fears losing what she has found, and she tells Ali that they are planning to marry. After a brief misunderstanding, the landlord’s son apologizes, and Ali agrees that marriage is a good idea. The couple goes to civil court and are married, but their union is still met with suspicion and disapproval.

The marriage is scrutinized by neighbors and shopkeepers, and Emmi’s world grows colder. Emmi’s colleagues shrink away, and Ali faces discrimination at every turn. When Emmi invites her three children and son-in-law to meet Ali, they openly reject him. One son shatters her television in anger, while the other declares she has lost her mind, calling her a “whore”, and Krista bluntly calls the arrangement a “pigsty.” The harsh judgment from those closest to her weighs heavily on Emmi, even as she clings to a fragile faith in their bond.

Seeking light at the end of the tunnel, Emmi and Ali decide to take a holiday to escape the worst of the prejudice, hoping their absence will be felt and their return welcomed. They do not return to the same open door they left; rather, they encounter a tempered reception that grows kinder not because prejudice vanishes, but because some people begin to see them as useful or convenient rather than as a threat or a symbol of change.

Back home, a shift in Emmi’s tone alters the dynamic between them. She becomes stricter, ordering Ali to do more and treating him as a display of success rather than a partner. When guests admire his cleanliness and strength, she flaunts him like an object. The strain pushes Ali away, and Emmi explains the withdrawal as moodiness and a foreigner mentality. He seeks comfort with Barbara, with whom there may have been a prior relationship, and later returns to Barbara, spending the night with her. Emmi confronts him at work; he acts as if he doesn’t know her, and his coworkers mock her age, labeling her as his “Moroccan grandmother”, while Ali remains mostly silent.

As hope flickers, Emmi returns to the bar where their story began. Barbara plays the same song that sparked their initial connection, and the two dance again. Emmi admits she is old, that he is free to come and go, but insists that when they are together they must be kind to one another. Ali agrees, and they affirm their love. Their moment of tenderness is cut short by a harsh reality: Ali collapses from a burst stomach ulcer and is rushed to the hospital with Emmi by his side. A doctor explains that the illness is common among foreign workers under stress and that surgery is required to remove the ulcer, with a grim prognosis of likely returning in six months with another flare-up. Emmi vows to do everything in her power to prevent that outcome, and the film closes with her steadfastly holding Ali’s hand, a quiet testament to devotion in the face of social and personal hardship.

Last Updated: October 09, 2025 at 11:09