The films I havent´t produced might be more important than the films I have poduced. Jean-Luc Godard

If a thought explodes, then it is sometimes impossibel to realise it. Maybe the projects that I don't realise are more important than the projects I realise. Doris Uhlich

Which traces are left by description-defying catastrophes on the stage, in the cinema, and on living-room screens? When the first atomic bomb was deployed over Hiroshima on 6 August 1945, thus ending World War II, the world entered a new age. The discovery and use of atomic energy for both military and peaceful purposes affected those cultures that possessed and/or were subjected to it; its repercussions resounded in artistic themes and topics throughout the entire latter half of the twentieth century. Cinema in particular has reacted to this phenomenon, and something approaching a distinct genre has developed since the beginning of the 1950s. Doris Uhlich presents a cinematic thought experiment in the Stadtkino based on the Japanese film Godzilla from the year 1954 and on associations around Japan and the Fukushima nuclear catastrophe. Which camera footage, which images exist of a catastrophe that is as invisible as radiation? Which pictorial language do films develop in order to depict invisible elements? How do the media visualise and demonstrate a catastrophe that cannot be seen? How is one touched by a catastrophe that is invisible and that cannot be depicted or filmed? Sneak Preview focuses on the eerie of the invisible. Crime scene: Stadtkino.