Curtain up and pill alarm off for Nils Heinrich's new program. The cuddly cabaret artist, who was born 50 years ago in another world, says “Well, you old skeleton?!” about the second half of his life. Inside he's still 25. Outside he's now getting wrinkles on his neck. Some of the people who govern him are younger than him. As a child he wore tights, now he wears shrink hose.
At this stage of life, men talk less and less, women talk more and more. He is now his own research subject.
Will he become like his parents? Will he become conservative? Will he become even more forgetful than he already is? Is that possible? Doesn't it make more sense to find alternative truths for yourself so that you have something of your own and differentiate yourself from the bourgeois youth?
He watches with interest as the others get older too. How the tattoos of people in his age group stretch out because the piercings are slowly becoming too heavy for the connective tissue. Is it still worth becoming an influencer now? And for what actually? For callus rasping? For porridge? And who should even watch that? Peers who hold their smartphones ever closer to their eyes? Why? Because your arms get shorter as you get older? Or so that they can even see anything on the display? Questions upon questions and one single insight: you can't think outside the box when you are the soup.
AS A CAR I WOULD BE A YOUNG USED ONE. The new program from NILS HEINRICH.