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The story of DJ Ickarus, who seems a bit overwhelmed by the task of producing his new album, the need to party all through the night and then the day, diligently trying all the drugs the scene can provide. He is slowly losing his grip, and when he even has a bad trip after he is given some odd pill, he ends up in a mental clinic. There he … basically does what he did before, music and drugs, and … I really don’t know. You would do the film more justice than it deserves by claiming that it would allow its characters to evolve, or merely develop. They don’t, and hence it is not really clear why we would need to follow them in the first place. Ickarus only wants his music, his girlfriend has too blunt an expression to make you understand what she wants, the record label manager is so poorly written and played that any word would be too much (“embarrassing” comes to mind, but why bother). There is every cliche, there are lesbians and hookers and drugs and mean corporate executives, there is the good and simple boy in the centre (oh, and his brother and father), there is everything that you would rather not have in this film. There are exactly two reasons to watch this despite the poor acting and the atrocity that does for a script: the hot 50-something that is the head of the clinic (Corinna Harfuch, who is also the only person in the film who knows how to act), and of course the music – the reason why it has been produced in the first place. The loose plot is frequently interrupted with opportunities to main actor and real-life DJ Paul Kalkbrenner to introduce his new tracks. If you are into this music, and if you can play it with sufficient decibel, that’s just great. In all other cases… rather stay away.

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