Costard here contrasts two approaches to film-making practice. In the red corner, Costard himself and Jean-Luc Godard, the former struggling to set up a Super-8 Co-op, the latter running rings around cultural officials in Hamburg Council. In the blue corner, Fassbinder shooting Despair on a huge tax-shelter budget, and Hark Bohm shooting his supremely idiotic movie about kiddie rebellion, Moritz, lieber Moritz. What emerges most strongly is a sense of the political and aesthetic chaos that Costard has made of his life. How do you take a movie whose director stages a scene showing himself leaping out of bed to answer a doorbell in order to display his own erection?