Hans Hoffmann (Franz Rogowski) gets sent to prison three times between 1945 and 1968 for breaking Paragraph 175, the law comdemning homosexuality in Germany. During his prison stints, he befriends an older, homophobic cellmate, Viktor (Georg Freidrich).

      The screenplay by writer/director Sebastian Meise and co-writer Thomas Reider doesn't waste its time introducing the character of Hans. They begin by showing police footage of him engaging in homosexual acts in a bathroom with a stranger before he's sentenced to prison in 1968. The audience doesn't know right away that he has already been to prison in the past, but they learn that eventually when the film flashes back to 1945 when Hans and Viktor first met. Great Freedom is fundamentally about how the friendship between Hans and Viktor evolves throughout the years. They become deeper friends, but this isn't anything like the schmaltzy Hollywood film The Shawshank Redemption nor is it as gritty and brutal as the prison film Starred Up or A Prophet. Instead, the filmmakers opt for emotional grit instead and keep the thriller, intense elements understated. They don't try too hard to tug at the audience's heartstrings, either, so they trust the audience's emotions without hitting them over the head or spoon-feeding them. You get to know Hans not through narration, but by observing him, even during his moments of silence. He's a stranger to the audience at the beginning, however, by the time the end credits roll, you get the chance to get to know him as a human being. He's trapped in a physical prison, but it's his emotional prison that makes him all the more compelling and relatable as a character. Viktor, too, has his own emotional prison to deal with and traumas to cope with. To watch them bond and connect on a human level as friends is profoundly moving. It would be safe to say that the power of their friendship makes Great Freedom essentially a love story, in a way.

      Franz Rogowski gives a nuanced and tender performance as Hans. He manages to captivate the audience just through his facial expressions alone even when there's no dialogue. That's a testament to both his performance as well as the screenplay and filmmaker's restraints. He's brave for displaying his emotions on screen so convincingly while opening the window into the soul of Hans. The same can be said about Georg Freidrich. Their chemistry and bond remains palpable---even more than the chemistry in Hollywood romances like Marry Me. Director Sebastian Meise wisely grasps that less is more. Nothing is overstated in Great Freedom nor does it need to be. Also, the slow-burn pacing helps the audience to more easily absorb the scenes, so the filmmakers trust the audience's patience. Patience, after all, is often rewarding which is the case with Great Freedom, especially in the third act which feels just as cathartic and even more powerful than the over-the-top third act in The Shawshank Redemption. At a running time of 1 hour and 56 minutes, Great Freedom is spellbinding, tender and genuinely heartfelt.

      Huda (Manal Awad), a hair stylist, owns a salon in an occupied Palestinian territory. She blackmails a customer, Reem (Maisa Abd Elhadi), into joining the Israeli secret service. Reem has a baby and a husband, Yousef (Jalal Masarwa), whose lives would become endangered if joins the occupiers' secret service. Hasan (Ali Suliman), a member of the Palestinian secret police, kidnaps Huda and interrogates her connections to Israel's secret service.

      Huda's Salon barely sets up the first act of its plot before jumping right into the meat of the story when Huda knocks Reem out and photographs her naked with a man while using the photos to blackmail her into joining the Israeli secret service. Soon after, Huda ends up kidnapped. Writer/director Hany Abu-Assad jumps back and forth between both storylines which would've worked much smoother with a less overwrought and dull screenplay. The dialogue often sounds stilted and too on-the-nose, but at the same time, it doesn't get to know any of its characters' lives enough. The interrogation scenes are contrived and clunky which makes it hard to be emotionally invested in them or to feel much in terms of suspense despite the potential for it, especially given the premise. It's also not easy to be absorbed by either of the storylines because just when one of them begins to be intriguing, Abu-Assad cuts to the other storyline. Too much goes on, yet the film feels shallow and increasingly lethargic. Abu-Assad fails to humanize any of the characters. They seem like they're just there to move the plot forward. but that relates to one of its other problems. The plot rarely feels like it has much forward momentum; it goes around in circles during the interrogation scenes that fall flat.

      The performances are decent, but nothing exceptional that manages to breathe life into the anemic screenplay. The cinematography is just as forgettable and the same can be said about the unimaginative lighting and set design which doesn't stand out either. That would've been fine if there was something else for the audience to be engrossed by, but there isn't, unfortunately. Worst of all, though, is the editing which feels abrupt, choppy and even awkward at times. Sometimes style can compensate for the lack of substance, but there's not much visual style or flair in Huda's Salon. At a running time of 1 hour and 31 minutes, Huda's Salon is an often dull, clunky and contrived political thriller.