People will tell you it's not a fight. Take my word for it, it's a fight alright. But the devil makes the rules. A poet, a boxer, a blonde, a brunette. The brunette is married to the poet. Like Edith Piaf, she is attracted to the fighter, while the crazy blonde tries to steal her husband. So much for plot. Poor craftsmanship in both the sound and makeup departments, but you've got to give Roehler some credit for sheer madness. Sobriety? Sanity? Look elsewhere. There's not a single stable soul in his line-up. "Gierig" takes us to the club scene we all hope for, but never find, when we go out night after endless night, hunting for thrills. Skinny beauties snort cocaine off the hood of a Corvette in the middle of the street. The crazy blonde is all but burnt alive, passed out from a liberal dose of Braindead, a magic potion that takes away your soul without taking your life. Jasmin Tabatabai, in the part of the moody brunette, goes on looking fabulously unwell as her husband, the poet, finally meets his fate.
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