Irene von Albertis “The protected men” plays a drastic what-if game. The social satire is not for the faint of heart, as the men are in serious trouble here. In the film, a virus breaks out in Germany that makes power-hungry men sex-crazy. The symptoms are frenzy and spontaneous, excessive hair growth all over the body. The affected men grope women at will and then attack them. In short: #MeToo behavior is becoming a male virus. Anyone affected by this dies shortly before the climax. Exitus instead of coitus! For men this means sterilization or at least quarantine, so they lose their power.
This is where the FEM party (Feminist Ensemble of Minorities) comes into play, chaired by Anita Martinelli (Britta Hammelstein) and Sarah Bedford (Mavie Hörbiger). Using a white lie, they take over the government because the virus affects an unusually high percentage of men in high positions. The more power and testosterone, the more dangerous the virus is for the man. The Federal Chancellor (Godehard Giese, with sudden whiskers like Kaiser Wilhelm I) is also killed. From now on, women take the helm. Patriarchy is being replaced by matriarchy. “Unimagined opportunities” for women turn into a nightmare for men…
Suddenly the splinter party FEM led by Anita Martinelli (Britta Hammelstein) and Sarah Bedford (Mavie Hörbiger) takes over government power.
When Sarah takes over the leadership of the government, she appoints FEM party member Martha Novak (Julika Jenkins) as health minister. The scientist sees the evil in testosterone-controlled masculinity and has been researching reproduction without male help for years. Anyone who voluntarily allows themselves to be castrated receives an award. The episodic images created by costume designer Aino Laberenz and director Irene von Alberti are just as crazy as the “male virus”. They come up with everything that comes to mind during this discourse and digression: mounted Amazons in black leather outfits guarding the men's research laboratory; men hunting wild boar; a few conspiracy theorists and a crusade of outcast men.
The new head of the country presents herself in a flamingo swivel chair with an eye patch. Sometimes it's pretty fun, sometimes it's deadly annoying. The fact that Sarah Bedford's party friend Anita Martinelli is dating the ukulele-playing and deliciously cooking female admirer Ralph Martinelli (Yousef Sweid) is due to the script update of Robert Merle's 50-year-old literary original. In both versions, Anita Martinelli strives for a career, but the man has to back down. While the book examines world politics without men, the film version is limited to a few places. Cameraman Constantin Campean relies on clear color schemes: the FEM party headquarters is pink, gray-clad alphas work in the (former) government and in the laboratory “the protected men” wear blue work clothes with pink gloves while they work on a serum against the deadly virus work.
The greatest progress: equality instead of equality
In the book, the laboratory was almost a luxury resort with a swimming pool and riding horses, but in the film – probably due to the budget – it is a very desolate place consisting of a few tin backyard pavilions. In the novel, Robert Merle referred to the great second wave of feminism in France in the 1970s. In “The Protected Men,” gender equality is called gender equality, but little else has changed. Women continue to be disadvantaged – be it in terms of salary or when it comes to career planning. Some feminist discussions and criticism of capitalism could be taken seriously if the film weren't so slapstick.
The pharmaceutical industry, for example, is embodied by Bibiana Beglau in her stylish 80s cyclist look, but the swipe still works: “Wherever there are deaths, the pharmaceutical industry comes into play.” The politicians cover up scandals as best they can – or look for them for counter-statements in order to have a clean slate again. A difficult undertaking in times of social media. Musically, composer Karim Sebastian Elias relies on an exciting mix of synthesizer beats and classical orchestra; the soundtrack consists of an impressive 27 pieces of music, which contribute significantly to the mostly cheerful mood and are often used as motifs.
The men affected transform into sex beasts that attack women, almost in the style of a werewolf.
The film is as rich as the soundtrack. There's too much of everything, and the actresses' performances seem wooden, as the dialogue often takes precedence over the acting. The showdown is completely feminist. Instead of a “male-connoted” chase, there is a female exchange of blows with words about which men are worth protecting. The man usually stands by in silence. An unfortunately unusual picture. Irene von Alberti herself calls the wild mixture that she presents in “The Protected Men” “thinking about it while laughing.” The laughs are strong but brief.
Conclusion: “The Protected Men” is a bitter satire on the battle of the sexes, which is sometimes fun due to its absurdities, but often misses the mark. A little more seriousness wouldn't have hurt the film.