Everyone has experienced a point in their respective lives where the future becomes a muddled mess and finding a direction forward because an existential struggle. For some, overcoming that struggle comes down taking down the past and its discontents. These are the themes that dominate Jan Ole Gerster's debut feature film "A Coffee in Berlin (aka OH BOY)."

Niko is a college dropout who seemingly has nothing going for him. As the film opens, the camera looks in through a doorway into an apartment. On the floor is a bed occupied by Niko and an unidentified girl. Niko gets up and is pictured in silhouette, emphasizing his lack of identity. In fact, the choice to make the film in black and white plays to this idea that Niko's life really lacks color or depth. During his opening conversation with the girl, he tells her that he cannot accept her invitation to meet later because he has things to do. When she asks what he has to do, he refuses to answer. Moments later he is meeting with a psychologist who refuses to give him his driver's license back because he is "emotionally unstable." From there, Niko will come into contact with a number of major people in his life that constantly remind him of his past sins; any sense of progress is constantly thwarted and the protagonist is forced to move along for another source of consolation and a place to fit in.

The film takes place over the course of a day and lacks a real traditional structure. In fact, the film's narrative glides in an episodic nature that emphasizes the protagonist's lack of structure in his life. It also lends the story a tremendous sense of unpredictability as each of Niko's encounters give the viewer more insight on the main character. Encounters with his father reveal his lying nature. A meeting with a former schoolmate Julika emphasizes his former cruelty, but also highlight his attempting to move on from the past. A climactic encounter in a bar illuminates Niko about how he could ultimately wind up if he continues with his current trajectory. But the interactions do not only illuminate the character of Niko. Every single person that he encounters is fully fleshed despite making what ultimately wind up being brief appearances. One of Niko's neighbors expresses his frustration over a sexless marriage after encountering a picture of Niko's mystery girl from the opening scene. During the encounter with his father, Niko comes to the realization that his father is not only disappointed in him, but has already sought out his own replacement. In fact, during these scenes, Niko and his father are always shadowed by his father's assistant, who is made to compete with Niko at a game of golf. During his increasingly sexual interaction with Julika, Niko and viewer discover a girl who is having trouble overcoming her past trauma and is attempting to utilize Niko to do so. Both of these characters are stuck in the past and constantly pull Niko back into it, thus thwarting his attempts to move forward. The irony of the portrayals is that these characters, despite having defined headings, are also struggling to find their place in the present.

But it is not only the characters that seem in conflict with their past and future. Berlin and its own traumatic past is also a subject that dominates the film. Niko's best friend Matze makes reference to how the city remains a dump while carefully inserted montages throughout the film showcase the persistent destruction of the city. When Matze and Niko visit a movie set, they encounter an actor who is playing a Nazi soldier who is also conflicted about his role in Germany's history. The climactic bar scene in which Niko comes to terms with his potential future also brings in the theme of the city's traumatic past continuing to linger in its present.

Another interesting motif that dominates the film refers to the title. Throughout his day, Niko seems intent on getting a cup of coffee. This search for the coffee, which represents energy and forward movement, is constantly juxtaposed with the beverage that is linked to Niko's past and his decline -- alcohol. This narrative not only colors the major theme of the film, but often lends the narrative much-needed levity.

The film's minimalist style with slight movements and high contrasting imagery slows the pacing and gives off a more icy tone that reflects the rejecting world around Niko. The static nature of the cinematography also gives off a more restrictive and claustrophobic feel.

The performances are spot on with Tom Schilling providing a truly complex portrayal of Niko. He remains rather cool and contained throughout, but his eyes are extremely expressive of the inner turmoil. The opening scene is one perfect example. When he is asked what plans he has, Gerster cuts into a close-up that says it all. Niko will not look at the girl and his looking away from her tells the viewer everything he/she needs to know about this character's instability. During a latter scene in the bar, Niko remains a seemingly passive listener throughout, but brief cuts to Schilling showcase a character coming to terms with his own tragedy.

As Julika, Friederike Kempter gives one of the more arresting performances in the film. She has a coquettish innocence early on that not only makes her endearing, but also helps build the sexual tension between the characters. But her seeming vulnerability slowly evolves into a more aggressive character that becomes menacing as the interactions develop. The climactic encounter between Julika and Niko is rather unsettling in how it moves from tenderness to emotional chaos.

Ultimately, "A Coffee in Berlin" is a slow-paced film about soul searching filled with intelligent filmmaking and an insightful script.