Gretel Bergmann Karoline Herfurth is introduced as a standout high jump athlete who, because she is Jewish, must leave Germany for safety and to continue her training in England. Her early success is clear when she wins the high jump championship in the United Kingdom, a victory that underscores both her talent and the growing risk she faces back home under Nazi racial laws. The film traces how her path is shaped not only by sport but by a political climate that seeks to control who is allowed to compete on the world stage.
At the Berlin Olympics in 1936, the tension around Jewish athletes becomes acute. The Americans and the International Olympic Committee push for inclusion, challenging the Nazi-led Olympic Committee to avoid excluding a celebrated athlete like Bergmann. The idea that a Jew could win on the Olympic stage would strike a powerful blow to Nazi optics, placing Gretel and her abilities at the center of a political firestorm. When threats ominously loom over her family in Germany, Gretel makes the difficult decision to return home, where she is nonetheless included in the German Olympic high jump team and granted a place at the training camp, seemingly granting her equal rights among her peers.
The team’s coach, Hans Waldmann [Axel Prahl], approaches Gretel with a genuine sense of sportsmanship and an unwavering belief in fair play. He treats her advancement as a matter of athletic merit rather than ideology, which earns her respect and a sense of belonging in those opening days of training. But the arc shifts when Nazi party officials intervene and replace Waldmann with Sigfrid Kulmbach [Robert Gallinowski], a coach whose loyalty to party lines complicates the dynamic. Kulmbach brings a harsher, more ideological approach, and he uses every available tactic to undermine Gretel’s confidence and derail her progress, turning the training camp into a field of political pressure rather than pure athletic pursuit.
Complicating matters is Marie Ketteler [Sebastian Urzendowsky], Gretel’s roommate and chief competitor in talent. Behind her seemingly ordinary facade lies a carefully crafted deception: Marie is not who she appears to be, and the Nazis see in her a vehicle to seize the gold medal and showcase their dominance. The film builds a tense, fraught dynamic between the two rivals, as outside threats loom while a fragile, genuine friendship begins to form between them despite the oppressive environment and the pressure of expectations.
As the Games near, Gretel’s status is suddenly revoked under suspicious grounds, and she is replaced by Marie in the competition. The shift exposes the heavy-handed manipulation taking place behind the scenes, with Gretel excluded at a pivotal moment when her presence could challenge the state’s narrative. Marie’s odd behavior—avoiding baths with teammates, shaving her legs obsessively, and speaking in a notably deep voice—becomes a clue to the truth behind her identity, and Gretel gradually pieces together the reality of Marie’s covert purpose.
In a pivotal turn, Marie discovers that Gretel was excluded not because of performance, but because of the regime’s need to control the narrative. Faced with the moral weight of the situation, Marie makes a startling choice: she deliberately loses the final and decisive leap, altering the outcome of the competition. The bar’s dislodgment leaves the Nazi officials dumbstruck and forces a reevaluation of what victory means under an oppressive regime. Marie finishes in fourth place, and Gretel, watching as a spectator, shares a quiet, knowing smile with her rival. Their shared moment signals a subtle victory—their stand against the cruelty and manipulation of the Nazi agenda, and the demonstration that integrity in sport can outlast a regime bent on spectacle and control.
