‘Made In EU’ review: Stephan Komandarev follows ‘Blaga’s Lessons’ with sharp Bulgarian Covid drama

Dir. Stephan Komandarev. Bulgaria/Germany/Czech Republic. 2025. 102 mins.  

The year 2020 – forever associated with the outbreak of the global Covid-19 pandemic – can feel like yesterday, or it can feel immeasurably distant. That’s why, even after what seems like a long-exhausted surge of that strange crypto-genre ‘lockdown cinema’, we still need films that seriously re-examine the pandemic, and its social and political repercussions. A trenchant new contribution comes in the form of Made in EU, by well-established Bulgarian writer-director Stephan Komandarev. In this sharply-honed small-town drama, coronavirus is examined in the context of other modern diseases that have accompanied it – ignorance, internet rumour, media irresponsibility and the pitiless resilience of the capitalist system. 

Bears comparison with 21st century workplace dramas by Ken Loach or Stéphane Brizé

Built around a muted but magnetic lead performance by Gergana Pletnyova, Made in EU bears comparison with 21st century workplace dramas by Ken Loach or Stéphane Brizé. In its spare, controlled focus, it’s also akin to Laura Carreira’s much-praised recent On Falling – but where that addressed the new social slavery of Amazon-style warehouses, Komandarev (who last directed 2023 Karlovy Vary Crystal Globe winner Blaga’s Lessons) shows a more traditional form of labour exploitation in contemporary Eastern Europe. This Venice Spotlight title should win attention wherever there are outlets for films that reinvigorate the social realist tradition.

Told in five chapters – the last a brief, pithily ironic coda – the film is set in a small Bulgarian town where a middle-aged widow Iva (Pletnyova) works in a sweatshop clothing factory. Apart from the mine where her husband worked and died, it’s the only employment in town; which means that its Italian businessman owner effectively owns the community. 

When the action starts, Covid-19 has already broken out in Bulgarian capital Sofia, so everyone is wary of sniffs and coughs in the workplace. But the factory’s determination not to lose a single euro of revenue means that local doctors cannot provide workers with sick notes – and in any case, women like Iva can’t afford to risk any of their income. So she continues to work – until she collapses on the shop floor.

A TV report identifies Iva as the community’s ‘Patient Zero’, which leads to her being suspended from work, and becoming a pariah – her pitiless scapegoating fuelled by social media. Her YouTuber son Micho (Todor Kotsev)  is singularly unsympathetic when she comes under the hammer, then finds himself being victimised by his own erstwhile circle. And factory foreman Georgiev (Gerasim Gerogiev) continues to defend the business’s interests and his own while a public health official conducts an investigation. Iva’s only remaining ally is retired medic Dr Rusev (Ivaylo Hristov), who has returned to work in the crisis – and who, having worked in Europe, has insight into the realities of communism and capitalism. 

The only dramatic flaw in the film, arguably, is a lengthy one-take sequence in which Rusev imparts his hard-earned wisdom to Micho. It’s the only scene in which Komandarev and co-writer Simeon Ventsislavov lay their didactic cards on the table – although it is very much carried by Hristov’s peppery, avuncular playing and the sharply-framed camerawork of Vesselin Hristov, whose work throughout provides eloquent understatement and clarity.

Understatement is a key term for this film, which begins with a very succinct visual metaphor – a close-up of the designer labels that Iva machine-stitches onto the factory’s luxury garments, bearing the words ‘Made in EU’. Komandarev’s contention is that this century’s post-socialist Bulgaria is anything but an equal member of the European Union, but rather a labour resource that Euro-capitalism is ruthlessly eager to suck dry – a polemic that the film carries off with quietly commanding lucidity.