| I |
n Netflix’s 2025 breakout thriller Exterritorial, the walls do not just close in, they close in legally, psychologically and morally. Directed by Christian Zübert, the film takes a mother’s primal fear and wraps it in layers of geopolitical red tape, post-traumatic echoes and Kafkaesque bureaucracy. What begins as a simple visit to the US consulate in Frankfurt, soon spirals into a nerve-wrecking maze of lies, violence and emotional reckoning.
Jeanne Goursaud, best known for Barbarians, delivers a career-defining performance as Sara Wulf, a former German special forces officer battling PTSD. She enters the consulate to renew her son’s passport - a routine task. When her young son, Josh, mysteriously disappears within the building and the staff claim that he was never there, the horror begins — not from ghouls or ghosts, but from the impenetrable veil of extraterritoriality. The space, while physically in Germany, is legally sovereign US territory. In other words, the law she knows no longer applies. Nor can the local police intervene.
This is not just a thrilling hook; it is a nightmarish metaphor for powerlessness in the face of global institutions. The building becomes a fortress of silence and secrets, echoing with diplomatic immunity and buried war crimes. Every corridor is dimly lit. Every guard wears a poker face. Every security camera is both a protector and a predator.
As Sara descends deeper into the consulate’s labyrinthine structure, flashbacks to her traumatic past in Afghanistan puncture the timeline. These are not just for backstory. They mirror her present claustrophobia and fuel her survival instinct. The psychological layering is remarkable. Goursaud does not portray a superhero mother; she portrays a deeply broken, but determined woman. Her panic is palpable, her rage controlled but volcanic. The PTSD is not exploited for drama; it is used to deepen the viewer’s empathy and create an unsettling mirror between war and peace, military and bureaucracy.
The tension escalates with the introduction of Erik Kynch (Dougray Scott), the regional security officer who not only obstructs her search but slowly emerges as a key figure in a conspiracy that spans continents and covert operations. Kynch is not a cartoon villain. He is worse; a man who believes in the necessity of his cruelty. Their shared military past and unresolved betrayal in the field adds personal stakes to what initially seems like political mismanagement.
Exterritorial is a rare hybrid: a gripping thriller s well as a psychological study in control, trauma and the cost of survival. With a magnetic lead performance and tightly wound direction, it makes its confined setting feel more dangerous than any battlefield.
One of the film’s most effective twists is the introduction of Irina (Lera Abova), a Russian detainee who has been languishing in a secret holding cell in the consulate. With tattoos, sharp instincts and an ambiguous past, Kira becomes Sara’s unlikely ally.
The chemistry between them crackles. It is not friendship, not quite trust, but a desperate solidarity between women chewed up by state systems. Their breakout sequence through the consulate’s sub-levels is pure adrenaline: a blend of hand-to-hand combat, blackout lights and tense whispers that feel like The Raid meets The Lives of Others.
Zübert’s direction is taut and efficient. Clocking under two hours, Exterritorial wastes no time on fluff. The editing is fast but coherent. The score pulses with minimal synth, evoking tension without becoming overbearing. The cinematography, all cold tones and harsh shadows, traps the viewer in the unyielding environment Sara cannot escape. The use of silence, especially in scenes where diplomatic personnel pretend that nothing is wrong, is masterful. It reminds the viewers that inaction can be as violent as a bullet.
Of course, the film leans on some familiar tropes: the lone-wolf parent, the shady consulate, the military betrayal. Where Exterritorial rises above its genre DNA is in its emotional intelligence. It is not just a thriller about a missing child. It is a thriller about losing one’s voice in a place where no one is obligated to hear one. Sara’s battle is not just physical, it is existential. She must break laws, blur morality and risk her sanity in a place where justice has been outsourced.
When she finally corners Kynch and records his confession, it does not feel like victory. It feels like exhaustion, like surviving a war that should never have been fought in the first place. The final moments, where she and her son board a flight to the US, are not triumphant. They are numb because once one has seen how easily systems can lie and lives can vanish, one can never quite land again.
Verdict: Exterritorial is a rare hybrid: a gripping thriller as well as a psychological study in control, trauma and the cost of survival. With a magnetic lead performance and tightly wound direction, it makes its confined setting feel more dangerous than any battlefield. If you are craving a thriller that dares to be both cerebral and savage, this one punches through.
The writer has a degree in psychology with a minor in mass communication. She can be reached at ukmaryam2gmail.com