We were kings

There's a particular magic inherent in every beginning. And a cool spell which sets the magic in motion is part of it. Around the turn of the millennium, garage band Union Youth from Lower Saxony records a demo tape and send it to the major music labels in the US. Attached to the recording is a little yellow note which says: 'We promise we're gonna be the best rock band of all time. And if you don't believe that – fuck off!' Fifteen years on: the memories of their brief triumphant rise have long since faded on old video tapes – not to mention recollections of the long nightmarish descent through the purgatory that is failure. One day Maze, the band's singer, decides to return to what he loves most: music. The old gang comes together. Will they manage to reinvent themselves? They already have a name, PICTURES. But their rehearsals are an odd affair and at some point Maze simply stops coming. The friends begin to realise that he's in trouble: drugs and depression are causing him to lose his grip and his sense of who he is. But in spite of their fears they are determined to collectively take on the responsibility for their project – a new tour, a new start. The dream begins. (Berlinale)