Foto: Nadja Klier

Petra Volpe – screenwriter and director with an eye for injustice and the power to create change

The Politics of Care in Cinema as a Battle Cry.

She moves effortlessly across society and culture, a filmmaker who bridges the aesthetic with the political. With courage and clarity, she creates stories that confront injustice while giving voice to those often left unheard. Both screenwriter and director, Petra Volpe, embodies the rare kind of storyteller our world urgently needs an artist whose vision reaches beyond borders.

In 2025 she brought Kveldsvakt (Late Shift) to international audiences, a film that situates her firmly among the most relevant voices in European cinema today. Her career, however, stretches back over a decade. A graduate of the Konrad Wolf Film University in Potsdam-Babelsberg, she made her feature debut with Dreamland (2013), before gaining international acclaim with The Divine Order (2017), Switzerland’s Oscar entry and a major box office success. She has since written and directed a wide range of works, from the beloved adaptation Heidi to the TV series Labyrinth of Peace and the award-winning The Golden Years (2022), while steadily expanding her range from intimate dramas to politically charged period pieces.

We met at this year’s Oslo Pix festival, where I had the chance to speak with her about her latest work and her views on cinema as a catalyst for change. Our conversation moved between artistic craft and political conviction, highlighting both the precision of her filmmaking and the urgency of her vision:

– In your films, many of the central characters are women navigating constant crisis, doing their best within unjust or impossible circumstances. What draws you to these stories, and would you say that portraying women in crisis has become a defining thread in your work?

I think I’m drawn to topics that show some kind of injustice, which maybe society doesn’t want to think about or look at very closely. And it very often involves women because women are still not equal in this world. And they suffer a lot of injustice. Their stories are still not represented enough in cinema. I think I’m drawn to stories where I’m looking at an injustice happening, and I think that was with the prostitutes, but also with the women’s right to vote in Switzerland, and the nurses. And I think cinema is a great way to shine a light on those issues.

It’s fascinating that the Swiss title Heldin (“Heroine”) became Kveldsvakt (“Late Shift”) in Norway. The translation adds another layer connecting women’s invisible labor in care work to broader social and political questions. In the image, Leonie Benesch portrays Floria Lind, the nurse who keeps going — a quiet symbol of endurance in a system on the edge. Foto: Arthaus

– While you deal with big, political themes, you often tell them through close human observation the intimacy of faces and gestures. How do you see this human approach in relation to the broader issues your films address?

– I think in general the private is political. And it’s a powerful tool to tell a very personal, private, small story, but show how it connects to bigger political issues. It’s very easy to see politics as something abstract, happening somewhere else with politicians. But politics affects us all. Our lives are always political, whether we want it or not. So for me, narrowing my vision to one person is a very political act. And I think cinema is the perfect tool for that, because you do have, as you say, the tool of the close-up.

– In Kveldsvakt the visual style is very restrained the hospital’s white walls, a palette of blues, greens, and shadows. How did you arrive at that visual approach?

– I work very closely with my director of photography, Judith Kaufman. We are really a very tight-knit team, and she is involved in my projects usually from the beginning. And it is clear that a hospital is a very difficult place to shoot, because it’s white walls. But we wanted to use that as a canvas and we wanted the people and their colors to pop out. But we also didn’t want it to be distracting. So we narrowed down the colors, and it was clear that the blue — the blue of the nurses’ uniforms was going to be the dominant color. And that she would really pop out very much from the white, and it would make her very physical. We wanted to make a movie that feels very visceral and physical, and we were thinking a lot about how to create the physicality of the movie through movement, but also color and contrast.

– Your films balance heavy, even melancholic themes with a sense of lightness whether through rhythm, humor, or movement. How did you find that tonal balance as a director in this movie?

– In this movie, for example, it was very clear that the pace is like she’s an athlete, for example an ice skater was an association we had for Floria. So in a way, the lightness also comes through her almost dance. Through the pace of her movement, it can’t get heavy because she is always moving. job. And this was inspired by our deep research, going to hospitals and observing nurses at work. In The Divine Order, I worked with humor because it’s so absurd that women didn’t get the right to vote until 1971 in Switzerland. It’s so awful that you can only laugh that such a rich, “modern” country didn’t grant women the vote. We really wanted to show that absurdity.

So I always try to find the humor or lightness in the story. For example, the movie I just shot is very different. It takes place in an American men’s prison, and it’s about Alzheimer’s and dementia. There, time stands still. You’re between thick walls. It has a very different pace and feel altogether. Each story requires its own tonal approach, and I try to find the right form and tone for each one.

Leonie Benesch as Floria Lind escorts a patient to the surgical ward. Her body language captures what Petra Volpe described in our conversation, the movement and pace of an athlete, like an ice skater: always in motion, never heavy, and profoundly disciplined. Foto: Arthaus

Kveldsvakt has both cinematic and political weight. Have you considered arranging screenings for healthcare decision-makers or politicians, to ensure the film reaches those in power?

– Definitely. We’ve tried, but politicians are so very resistant. But hospitals in Switzerland and Germany have also shown the movie to their CEOs. The nurses used the movie as a tool to try to make their CEOs and managers understand what it feels like to work on the ward. In general a lot of politicians always there are more important issues than nurses, you know. It’s symptomatic, because nursing is predominatly a womens job, and womens issues are not taken seriously. I hope that in Norway the nurses will be able to lure politicians and decision-makers into the cinema and kind of force them to see it.

– For me, this film feels like an urgent cultural tool. I believe that change through art requires boldness and creativity. Do you see Kveldsvakt as a form of political impetus, aimed at making politicians and the public think differently?

– For me the movie is a battle cry. And then it’s also up to the nurses’ unions to use the movie, really, and to use it to push their agenda. I’m all for it!

In the locker room, Floria (Leonie Benesch) sits alone – a moment of quiet after chaos. Petra Volpe has crafted a film about crisis, care, and exhaustion that feels neither tired nor sentimental. Her “battle cry” for the nursing profession is empathetic, politically grounded, cinematically enchanting and once again puts on the agenda what too many choose to look away from. Foto: Arthaus

– You point to nurses as an exhausted, divided group, which makes collective action difficult. Yet the film shows how essential they are. Do you believe nurses and healthcare workers more broadly have untapped political power?

– Absolutely, but the main thing is that a lot of nurses are just too tired. That’s the sad truth. In Germany, the nurses are also very divided. And it’s very typical that when a group is so exhausted and oppressed, they can’t agree on things and they forget to look at the bigger picture. It’s also a known political strategy of opponents to divide. What I find fascinating is that nurses would have so much power because they are so important. Imagine if they really said, “We are going to go on strike on this day,” and really just did it. Of course, somebody has to care for the patients, but for example in Finland the nurses threatened to all leave their jobs the whole nation, all the nurses in the country did this together and it really had an effect. They had to change their approach. I think it’s really important that nurses are aware they actually have a lot of power, because they are so important.

– Beyond this specific film, do you still believe cinema and art more broadly can bring political change in today’s turbulent world?

– I have to believe that art has a huge effect on society. Of course, I don’t think one movie will change the world, but I think in the sum of culture and art, it’s an existential need, and it reflects our world. We can definitely change perspectives. We can encourage people to think differently, to put themselves into the shoes of other people. And that’s the best if this movie manages to create better patients, even, because there’s also so much violence against nurses, that’s already a lot. But I’m not naive. I don’t think a single movie will change the world. Still, I do believe that movies can change the world.

– Before we round up, could you share a glimpse of your upcoming project?

– This will be my first English-language movie, and it’s almost only men in it. It’s a men’s movie, and I think it’s a very feminine or feminist take on men also. It takes place in an American men’s prison and deals with Alzheimer’s and dementia. It’s a movie that shows something very surprising in a very toxic, masculine place — the power of care. It’s also about care, but a different kind of care. I’ve been working on this project for ten years, and it’s based on research I did in the California Men’s Colony in San Luis Obispo, California.

When we spoke in mid-September, Petra Volpe was deep in the editing room of her next project. Since then, Kveldsvakt (Late Shift) has reached Norwegian cinemas, opening on October 3rd, giving audiences a powerful glimpse into the realities of care work before her next film arrives.

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