Kontroll

In the perpetual dim of Budapest’s underground, the metro becomes a city of its own—metal corridors humming with the rhythm of late‑night trains, stations that double as makeshift dwellings, and a quiet bureaucracy that keeps the tunnels moving. The world is confined yet expansive, a place where the ordinary clatter of wheels masks an undercurrent of anonymity, fatigue, and fleeting connections. Shadows stretch along the platforms, and the air is thick with the scent of steam and the unspoken stories of commuters who never see the sunrise.

Bulcsú is a ticket inspector who has made the subterranean his permanent home, drifting between platforms and the occasional brief respite on a bench. He is surrounded by a rag‑tag crew: the seasoned veteran Professzor, the disheveled but earnest Lecsó, the nervous, sleep‑prone Muki, and the eager, if somewhat clueless, newcomer Tibi. Their interactions are a blend of camaraderie and weary competition, each night a test of endurance and a chance to assert their place in a realm that both respects and resents them.

A rivalry with Gonzó, the model employee who pushes the limits of discipline with daring challenges, adds a pulse of adrenaline to the routine. Meanwhile, a brief, almost surreal encounter with Zsófi, a girl in a bear suit who carries an unexpected warmth, hints at the fragile humanity that can surface amid the steel and concrete. Beneath the daily patrols, an unsettling presence lingers—a silent threat that haunts the tunnels and keeps the inspectors on edge, reminding everyone that the darkness holds more than just echoes.

The film’s tone is measured and observational, letting the tension simmer while moments of quiet connection shine through. It explores loyalty under pressure, the monotony and mystery of night shifts, and the stubborn perseverance of those who find a strange kinship in the hidden veins beneath the city.

Last Updated: October 23, 2025 at 16:13