À fond les ballons!

Those were the days, no smartphones, no phones at all really, lighter and Marlboros on the nightstand instead, in the rain, on the train, latter with doors that could be opened all the time, yet for the most part young people did not end up on the wings of planes back then either. We marvel at the display of youthful defiance about the horror vision that gasoline could cost as much as 3.10 DM one day, envy Schucki because he gets a kiss, though he won't join the road trip, unlike Mick Jagger's photograph, remember fondly how much of a social event any autoscooter once was, acknowledge that there was chemistry between the two leads, get treated to the two most successful, stirring, enduring, dope, German pop songs of 1982, meet that Leuchtturm for what I remember the first time right here, and wonder what Karl Dall is doing in all this. The story line emerges and evolves in a love triangle of unmatched predictability, both lead's performances are above soap opera standards as set in this millennium, and I'm still waiting for that unhealthy, sugar infested ice confectionery getting offered just before the movie starts. In summary, I loved it.