Berlin, 1932. In a city where jazz blends with the whisper of impending catastrophe, Marlene Dietrich becomes more than a star — she becomes a living legend. Her voice, like cigarette smoke in the dim glow of the cabaret, envelops the audience, but behind the curtains, something far greater than applause awaits her.

One night, after her performance in The Blue Angel, a mysterious woman in black approaches Marlene — Lily Stern, a journalist from an underground newspaper. She hands her an envelope containing a photograph: a high-ranking Nazi officer in a compromising situation with a male performer. Lily whispers, "They’ll kill him in three days. Only you can save him—you’re the one they won’t dare touch."

Marlene, accustomed to playing roles on screen, is now forced to play a game with reality. She’s drawn into a dangerous intrigue: using her fame, connections, and icy composure to steal evidence from a Gestapo office. Her accomplice is Erich, a Jewish pianist who once composed for her and now hides in the shadows. As Marlene delves deeper into the conspiracy’s dark waters, she realizes she’s being watched. Her phone is tapped, and black roses appear in her dressing room—a warning. But Marlene doesn’t back down. For her, this isn’t just about saving one man—it’s the final act of her freedom before Germany changes forever.

On the eve of her departure for Hollywood, Marlene hosts a farewell dinner for Berlin’s elite. Amid the clinking champagne glasses and jazz, she slips into the officer’s study—only to be caught. But instead of a gun to her head, she’s given... an offer: leave and stay silent, or remain and become the face of the new Germany.

At dawn, Marlene boards the train. In her hands is a letter from Erich: "You didn’t save him—you saved all of us. Your voice is now our weapon." Outside the window, Berlin flashes by—a city she’ll never see again. In the compartment, her final words hang in the air: "All of this... just another film. Only without a happy ending."

1933. The Blue Angel* still plays in theaters, but in Germany, books are already burning. Somewhere in Los Angeles, Marlene lights a cigarette, her eyes skimming a newspaper headline: Reich Minister of Propaganda Demands Ban of Her Films. She smiles. The game has only just begun.