"Four Minutes" was inspired by a single photograph of an 80-year-old woman who worked as a piano teacher in a women's prison. She sat at her instrument, her hands placed lightly on the keys, and filmmaker Chris Kraus was struck by the contrast between her old, ravaged face and youthful, elegant hands. This was a woman who had not let age completely overtake her, and the astonishing beauty of her hands were a testament to years of intense dedication to her craft.

In "Four Minutes" ("4-Funkan no Pianist" in Japan) the woman comes to life as imagined by Kraus, and she proudly professes that "music is the only thing that interests me." She's therefore fearless (but not necessarily invulnerable) of solitude and alienation — the cost of a life without human intimacy. The only things she asks or accepts from people now are respect and politeness. Played by one of German cinema's most treasured actresses, Monica Bleibtreu (who sank her features into layers of old-age makeup to play a woman 20 years her senior), Traude Kruger — the pianist — is a pillar of severity and restraint who navigates the dark, dreary corridors of the prison in heavy skirts and ugly shoes.

In the opening scenes, we see her deploying two young thugs (she doesn't care who they are, as long as they don't damage the piano) to transport a grand piano into the prison; the old one had been destroyed and she has had to replace it with her own money. "I haven't been paid a salary in three years," she says to smooth-talking prison warden Meyerbeer (Stefan Kurt), who claims that piano lessons are unnecessary. But you can tell she intends to teach piano to the prisoners for the rest of her days, and it's not about salary or reputation but a basic, physical need. She needs that piano in her place of work.