The dead woman isn't dead at all. She has a pulse, but no identity. In "Polizeiruf," the Magdeburg investigator faces a mystery.

A woman's body lies at the edge of the forest. The police arrive on suspicion of murder. But when investigator Brasch (Claudia Michelsen) takes the dead woman's pulse, she screams: "She's alive!"

In the intensive care unit, the woman (Mareike Sedl) isn't coming around. She was traveling without papers and using someone else's cell phone. Who is she? How did she get where she was found? She was hit by a car, that much is certain. A silver-gray Mercedes, like the thousands that exist. Brasch's colleagues consider it a clear case of hit-and-run—not a matter for the homicide squad.

Nevertheless, the detective perseveres. She's good at it, Doreen Brasch, who, reserved but very determined, follows her own path. Brasch is practically obsessed with restoring the nameless woman in the hospital to her identity and her story. "If she dies now, it'll be as if she never existed," says Brasch, who feels morally and emotionally responsible for the unknown woman.

The first details about the seriously injured woman emerge from the cell phone she had with her. The phone belongs to Berna (Rona Özkan), a cleaning lady who took the woman – who called herself Sarah – into her home. Berna found Sarah completely out of it and apparently in need of help in front of her house and decided to help the stranger. In flashbacks, we see Sarah in the days before her accident – ​​but we never get to know her.

For long stretches, she remains silent and stares into space. One moment she cries, another she screams. Then she meets a man who claims he's never seen her – and suddenly everything changes. For about an hour, "Polizeiruf" maintains the suspense: The idea of ​​piecing together a life story in retrospect works brilliantly for most of it.

The dedicated detective counterbalances Sarah's wordless and almost motionless depression. But the camera's repeated lingering on Sarah's face, which knows only one expression—that of despair—doesn't do this "Polizeiruf" any good. Towards the end, a pathos of slowness paralyzes the episode. The tendency toward solemnity is already evident in the title, "Widerfahrnis," an outdated word meaning fateful experience, which the Duden dictionary now lists only as a verb ("widerfahren").

Despite all the fate suggested by the title, in the end there are still perpetrators, victims, and clear assignments of blame. Because the course of events is ultimately determined by the decisions of individuals. Even the way the detective, in her compassion, acts on her actions—one of the most beautiful aspects of this film by Umut Dağ—is a decision.

The script by Zora Holtfreter and Lucas Thiem focuses on the female roles; men are only peripheral characters. A prostitute (Iza Kala), who witnessed the accident, makes an important statement. Berna provides further insights into her life. Berna's young daughter (Soraya Maria Efe) is the only one who has been able to elicit more gentle emotions from Sarah.

Brasch pieces together all these reconstructed fragments to create a story. Together, the women become witnesses to a life that, at the beginning of this biographical investigation, consisted only of question marks.

“Polizeiruf 110,” “Widerfahrnis,” on Sunday, May 4, at 8:05 / 8:15 p.m., SRF 1 / ARD.