There is no need to go out into the "great wide world" to find the meaning of life. Instead, it is very close – it is in your street and in the shop next door. Irina Kosean takes us into four of these "shops next door" in the Munich district of Neuhausen, far away from the mainstream mega stores and culture of mass consumption. We meet the owner of a hardware store, which is over 100-years-old, where you can still literally buy everything. In the second shop we encounter Ali, a Turkish greengrocer who is well known by everyone in his street. Many people visit his shop just to have a chat or a cup of tea with the lively young man. But Ali also has worries. Business isn't very good at the moment, as many of his clients have become unemployed. Melinda Racovita is a 28-year-old shoemaker. With her tiny shop she has fulfilled her dreams, although she finds it hard to assert herself as a woman in a man's business. The final place we visit is the Maxim cinema. Its owner Sigi Daiber tells us about nearly 30 years of programming alternative art house cinema for the people – and he will continue as long as there are films. With personal charm, passion and hard work, they all struggle to survive in the uniform world of business. This film is about the joys, fears and dreams of normal people, who day after day play their role in making their district something special.

Award: Münchner Jugendfilmpreis 2004

In this exhilarating and touching film, Petra Wallner and Josef Mayerhofer take us inside the home of a Bavarian "pop legend". Lotte Lenz, "the ageless woman", lives in a little village deep in the heart of the Bavarian province. Her entire life has been dedicated to kitsch and eternal youth. With great sensitivity the filmmakers accompany this peculiar character through the last months of her life. With a delicate attention to detail, they immerse us in Lotte Lenz's bizarre world. Everything is red in Lotte Lenz’s house except for a white rug – she has red varnished nails and a red wardrobe with a huge assortment of clothes. The stools in the bar, even the velvet cover of the telephone, are red. On the walls we see portraits of Bavarian King Ludwig, of the Pope and the Statue of Liberty. There is a collection of stuffed cats in the corridor and one live Persian cat who doesn't move much itself.

The directors remain faithful to their protagonist throughout the film, and the viewer can sense a strong relationship of trust that has been established between the filmmakers and their subject. And at the end, the film brings a touch of Hollywood to the deepest Bavarian countryside.