Attempting to echo the Yugoslav New Wave bands Šarlo Akrobata, Idoli and Električni Orgazam, this compendium of three stories celebrating post-Tito Yugoslavia can barely escape cliché and commercial predictability. The first is the hackneyed theme of pretense and thus of social theatre or pantomime between two young people that lays bare emotional shortcomings in the process.

The shy and almost effeminate Darko Popović is not even taken seriously by his parents, who treat him as if he were ten years old, but he meets Irena, a loose and determined, compulsive chatterbox, and agrees with her to fake a love affair to meet the social expectations of Darko’s parents and, in her, to provoke the jealousy of his alcoholic, moorish ex-boyfriend Nemanja. Conflict arises when the simulation reveals real emotional shortcomings, questioning the boundary between social theatre and genuine feelings. In the second story the crux is even worse in its exaggeration and occurs during a single night involving a hitman Bogdn, a crazy husband Dusan Markovic and a bass player Luka who is mediocre as a musician and explores new alternatives such as ‘auditioning for a techno folk group’ or accepting 3 thousand in advance to murder the crazy man’s wife, but it turns out that when he sees her in the same house where he was waiting for her watching Carpenter’s Halloeen, when he sees her, I repeat, he repents and gives her the 3 thousand and notifies her of Dusan’s nefarious intentions, but she, who is not a pure angel, is unfaithful with Philip to Dusa anyway.

That will cost Philip to end up in hospital and Luka to be persecuted all night long. And the third story is the worst, because the whole plot centres on the unrealistic tale of a guitarist Marko, who is approached by a leafy woman with whom he starts a relationship but in the meantime is robbed of his most precious possession: his guitar. To get it back even in jail he will end up.