Sewing Labels with the "Made in EU" Logo

in 15th Julien Dubuque International Film Festival, Iowa

by Beat Glur

At the Dubuque festival, Swiss critic Beat Glur tracks the virtues of the FIPRESCI prize-winner, Made in EU. The film is a pointed critique set during the COVID crisis, directed by Stephan Komandarev, one of Bulgaria’s most internationally recognized filmmakers.

We have almost forgotten it, or at least do not talk about it: But it is only six years ago that the COVID-19 crisis literally swept over the continents and brought the world, its social life, its economy, as well as its culture to a standstill. We still don’t know who is to blame for the uncontrolled and rapid spreading of the virus nor have we fully understood the scale of the event nor the extent of its death toll.

Many films claim to be “Based on a True Story.” Bulgarian director and screenwriter Stephan Komandarev’s feature Made in EU leaves no doubt that the scenario could likely have unfolded in the Eastern European EU-member state as shown in the film. Bulgaria was not the only country that was ill-prepared and ill-equipped to handle the catastrophic situation that so dramatically changed everyday life.

Although set in March 2020 at the beginning of the COVID crisis in a small Bulgarian town, the pandemic and its health issues is not the main topic of the film. Komandarev’s feature, which premiered last September at the Venice Film Festival, has a much broader message. The social drama brings to mind that a poor EU-member state like Bulgaria had a much heavier burden to carry than countries that are economically better off.

The issue of the film thus really is an economic one. Although a member of the European Union since 2007, the economic situation for a large part of the Bulgarian population has not much improved since, and the working conditions for the least privileged have hardly changed. Made in EU takes us into the garment industry, with its thousands of mostly female workers that sew designer suits six days a week and twelve hours a day.

As for the film’s main character, the 43-year-old Iva—a widow and single mother since her husband died in a mining accident, authentically and intensely played by Bulgarian actress Gergana Pletnyova—she sews labels with the “Made in EU” label onto the inside of the suit’s collars.

“Made in EU,” the brand launched by the EU in 2014 under the European Single Market Act, should (unlike Made in China or Made in Bangladesh) not only stand for good quality and environment friendliness, but also for good working conditions, adequate salary, and social security. But the fact is that workers in eastern Europa are as exploited as their counterparts in Asia.

Sick leave being denied and a bonus-payment blackmail system served as the basis from which Komandarev developed the script for his seventh feature. So, his story is indeed inspired by true events.

When the epidemic broke out in Bulgaria, it was the sewing factories that became the first hotspots of the disease. This is no surprise given the dozens of women crammed into one big working space, the lack of safety measures, and the prioritization of profit over human values.

Since the downfall of the communist system Bulgaria has lost one-fifth of its population, many among the best educated. Traditional industries were left to deteriorate. International brands jumped into the gap, exploiting the unemployed cheap labor. In smaller towns, people had the choice to either work in a factory or to leave the country.

“We were promised a bright future, but we ended up on the periphery of the periphery – socially, economically and culturally,” as Komandarev comments. The often hand-held camera follows Iva, who happens to become the town’s first COVID case although she has never been abroad. She becomes a scapegoat on suspicion of having brought the virus into town and now not only faces hostility from her employer, but soon also from her fellow co-workers, her neighbors, and even from her son who now can’t travel to Western Europe as planned.

The film has little dialogue and almost no music, only at the end, as a half broken voice hums the “Ode to Joy” from Beethoven’s 9th symphony, the European anthem.

Beat Glur

© FIPRESCI 2026