You said he'd stopped making music. He's making music.
- He's not. - He is. He's playing the decks.
- DJs don't play the decks. - They do.
DJs mix. He uses the decks to play records.
- His records? - Yes.
No. Mostly other people's records.
Hold on. He's playing other people's music?
You know what DJs do.
What matters is how he sequences the tracks together.
That's what makes a good DJ.
- You don't seem to get it. - I do, but…
- Just explain it. - I am.
I've been explaining for ten minutes. Ever been to a wedding?
- I didn't know they had big careers. - Next up, "Music Starts Better With You."
Boom. Mix. That's a DJ, period.
- That makes money? - Yes.
Well, it depends…
It varies.
- Depends on what? - On how popular the DJ is.
- How is that measured? - By how many records they sell.
- The records they play? - No! Their own music.
Does he sell records? Is he popular?
- His own records? - Yeah.
Well, he had a massive hit 15 years ago, "X-Love."
Mega popular. Made a ton of cash and then nothing. Writer's block.
Now, he's going through a rough patch, really rough.
He's ripe for the taking, as you can see.
- Yeah, he's perfect. - Told you.
Sorry.
Sorry. Excuse me.
Coming through, fashionistas. Excuse me.
Thank you.
Excuse me.
I'm the DJ.
Who are you?
I'm the DJ.
- What is your name? - It's me. Scorp…
- Scorpex. - Scorpex, Scorpex…
Scorpex, the DJ. That's me.
- Which list is it? - Excuse me, he's an artist.
- Let him through. - Yeah, an artist!
Let me through, please.
- What's your name, kid? - Hervé.
Hervé, look. Come here.
See that? It says "Access All Areas," and it's mine.
Come on!
Let's go, go, go!
All right! Not too shabby for a small gig.
Hold on.
Scorpex for Cookie.
Hey, Luis! I'm here.
Well, dickhead.
This event is massive. Pay me double or I won't play!
- Come on, it's tiny. - Sure, whatever you say.
Are they for real?
What the fuck? I was so close to an ego death.
For fuck's sake! Fucking hell!
- Move, please. - Are you fucking serious?
There, look.
Cookie will ask Damokless to play longer.
Since she's a fake,
only plays pre-recorded sets and can't mix, she'll say no. Watch.
There!
Out of my way.
Thanks.
- Hervé for Cookie. Where are you? - Here. Sorry.
I looked everywhere. I can't find him.
Unbelievable.
- All the doors look the same. - I'm pissed now.
Where is Vestax?
On his way. Scorpex is here. He'll do the changeover.
Luis, please.
- Can you take over the decks, please? - Seriously?
Yes, I'm serious. Please.
We want music!
- Who are the two freaks? - The big bosses. From Van Straat.
Tabitha Jenkins, the superstar designer.
Next to her is Capitani, the executive director.
Please?
Come on, do this for me. Please.
- All right. Fine. - Yes, Luis!
Thank you.
Come on, Vestax!
And you are?
The little prince of electro, the legend, Scorpex.
The legend?
Fantastic.
I don't know about that, but I'm sure I can help you out.
Wow, it's crazy in here. Calm down, calm down!
Before I start, I'd like to pay homage to those who paved the way for us.
Without them, we wouldn't be here today.
Make some noise for the veteran of French Touch.
Scorpex!
Right, now let's get down to business.
Hi.
- Toni, sweetie, why are you here? - You forgot I was coming?
No, but you…
- Are you staying? - I'm DJing at a gallery opening tonight.
Does your mother know?
I need to tell you when I come home now?
It's not that.
- You thought I'd miss the big comeback? - What comeback?
Your comeback.
There's no comeback, sweetie. Scorpex never left. "Comeback…"
Come on. My father is mixing for the hottest label around.
Yeah, I mean, it's no big deal…
What happened with Vestax?
Meaning?
He cut you off mid-set.
No, no, hang on.
He didn't cut me off. Are you kidding?
No one cuts me off.
Plus, he's not exactly Einstein.
I mean, "Vestax." Come on.
Come on, Luis. Watch your ego.
Anything that works came from you?
I don't have an ego. He's a copycat. And he knows it.
Credit where credit is due. Damn it.
What did you call me?
What happened to Dad?
Come on. Luis is your name. It's not an insult.
So, you're mixing at a gallery opening?
It's more like sound design,
but yeah, I'm playing my own stuff.
Oh, so you're a DJ now? And your painting? Dead and buried?
No, I'm a painter, slash DJ, slash model,
slash environmental activist.
I'm a complete artist.
Slash, I do jack shit and brag about it.
Why do you always come here and fiddle with everything?
Leave it there. It's for looking at, not touching.
- Is it the Scorpex Museum? - If you like.
So, Van Straat. You've heard of it?
The real question is, have you?
Are you kidding?
The show is going to be sick.
- No shit. - With Tabitha Jenkins' designs.
- My friend Tabitha Jenkins-- - She's so lit.
So lit. You should've seen her during my set. She was like, "Oh, Scorpex!"
I was like, "Hey, relax, Tabitha." She isn't my style anyway.
Anyway, I'm glad you're here.
Do you sell a lot of Vestax?
Yeah, lots of streaming. The physical copies sell like hotcakes.
Sorry, excuse me. Sorry to bother you, but I just wanted to tell you
that I love you. Thank you.
Your music really changed my life, Luis.
Thanks, but it's Scorpex.
- Scorpex. - Thanks. It means a lot.
It's weird seeing you in person.
- You probably get this a lot, but I… - One euro?
- …it's crazy. - One euro?
One euro? A Japanese edition with an unreleased track?
Only 500 in the world. You're losing money, man.
Dude, it could be from Mars. It still doesn't sell.
It won't sell sat in this box of shit.
Put it up there and raise the price.
These are new releases, popular stuff.
This is popular too, buddy.
- It isn't new. - New, new…
I'll take it! I'll take it.
I love it, so…
Yeah.
There you go.
Who is that?
But… Have we met before?
- Can we talk about Vestax? - Vestax?
Fuck!
Take it easy! Take it easy!
Rose Espino. Intelligence agency, drug trafficking unit.
Drugs? Not me. You've got the wrong guy.
I've been clean for ages.
- Excuse me. - Don't move.
Who is Vestax to you?
Vestax is-- Listen, Vestax is a piece of shit.
That's the best I can do. Really, he's… I'm not the only one who thinks so.
He's involved in a highly sensitive case. A major drugs operation.
I'm not surprised. Not one bit.
I propose that you help us catch him.
Then nothing can stop your comeback.
What comeback? There's no comeback.
I never left. I just won't get out of bed
for less than 100K. I'm less public, but it's a choice.
Do you have anything better to do?
You're in the one-euro box, Luis. No one wants you.
Anyway, you're on the T-list.
The T-list?
- There's an active warrant on you, so… - A what?
We'll freeze your accounts and seize your apartment.
You owe 500,000 euros in tax, so…
500,000, that's a couple of DJ sets in Dubai. Come on. I'm not going to…
"DJ sets in Dubai."
Do you mean a five-minute opener for Vestax
before getting kicked offstage?
I wasn't kicked off. It's called staging.
Listen, Luis.
You help us, and I'll ask my colleagues to turn a blind eye.
Take your time to think it over.
But call me by tomorrow morning.
Art incubators don't always get it right. We search and experiment.
Yeah. Searchers who seek are found. Searchers who find are sought.
- Those are my friends from Heart of Earth. - Isn't that a song?
Be nice, okay? Sometimes they struggle with white alpha males, you know?
I'm white?
- How are you? - Well?
- What do you think? - Incredible.
Totally insane.
Toni.
Good evening. Tonight, your soundscape mustn't detract from any of the pieces.
It should act as a canvas of sound for each performance.
That's actually what I had in mind.
A soundscape symbolizing urban unpredictability.
Exactly. Great.
- That was amazing! - Yes…
Yes! She's my daughter.
- I'll let you set up the decks. - Thanks.
Odd guy, your friend. I thought he was going to bite us.
- Need help? - No, don't worry.
No filters. They're a pain.
- No. Thanks. - Okay.
Maybe this isn't your scene, but playing here is huge for me.
I can see that this is huge. I mean, the place is huge.
Plus, Tabitha is scouting models for her show.
Do you think I have a chance?
Tabitha?
Amazing!
Why is Tabitha here?
She's judging.
She's so good.
She really is a complete artist.
As my…
daughter would say.
- Shit, she's coming. Not a word. - Okay.
This is Toni, our sound designer.
- Not just that. - Evening.
She's also a model, an actress, and she makes music.
You made this music?
Yeah, I did.
She did.
Thank you.
We've met before.
We have.
- Scorpex. - What's your name?
Scorpex. Oh, sorry.
Toni.
It's always about you. Let me talk.
It isn't about me. I'm being polite. It's basic manners.
- You should be happy. - You suck.
Sorry, where are you taking that?
Sir?
No. Hey! Sir?
That's-- Sir? Where are you taking that? Hey!
- What's going on? - Mr. Luis Joquet?
- Yes. - Damien Parillaud. Court bailiff.
Careful, that's fragile!
That little shit…
POLICE HEADQUARTERS
- What's the deal with my furniture? - I know.
- No, but… - I know.
Know what?
Don't worry. I'll handle it personally.
That'd be nice. Thanks.
What I'm about to say is top secret,
so once you leave this room, no one can know.
Really? Is that what "top secret" means?
Listen. Vestax, your BFF, owes his career to a criminal gang.
They pay for everything. Music videos, PR.
They even pay for his ghost producers, the guys who write his music.
I'm not surprised. When you're butt-ugly with no talent,
it's who you know or you're…
He's fascinated by organized crime.
Two years ago, he DJed at a wedding in Rotterdam.
The wedding of Nikola Tadić, second-in-command.
Son of a diplomat, loves techno, answers to Molotov. You know the type.
He's the muscle, a loose cannon.
But he's not the one we want. This is who we want.
- Dricus Mascarilla. - Dricus.
He's the brains behind it all. The big boss.
We lost his trail after facial reconstruction
following a poisoning that left him covered in horrible scars.
- Take a look. - Yes.
Now that he's incognito, he's trying to start afresh
by investing in legal businesses, such as fashion.
Van Straat.
Exactly. The ring has imported Mexican cartel methods
and makes hyper-addictive designer drugs.
Their bestseller is Angel Rocket.
A cocktail of ecstasy, cocaine and Viagra.
So, you're hard, hyper and horny. Sounds good.
No, it isn't. It's addictive as hell. People die. It's not fun.
If you take a lot, but just a little?
So, are you a narc or are you, like…
What?
A secret agent?
- We don't say "secret agent." - We don't.
And what is this?
The name of the operation. Operation…
- BPM? - Yeah.
- Did you think of that? - Sorry, but it's…
It sucks. I'll find a better one. I'm good with titles. Listen to this.
Operation Banger.
BPM.
- These guys live in clubs… - Banger.
…so they hang out with Vestax.
Vestax loves you. He may have called himself Vestax to sound like Scorpex.
- Thank you! - Yeah.
"May" doesn't come into it. He stole my name. He stole the X.
- He copied me from A to Z. - Which is why…
you're going to become his best friend. Just to identify Dricus.
See what I mean?
What's cooking in the lab?
Oh, the old man.
- What's up? - Need some inspo?
- Hi. Scorpex. - Elliot.
Are you spying?
Kind of. Yeah, you could say that. You have to tell me about your show.
What was that dope staging you dropped?
- You liked it? - Seriously? Blew my mind.
Tell me who your AD is, I'll hire them, you won't see them again!
He's right here.
Shut up. You did all that?
I do everything. I can't delegate.
- Thanks for filling for me. - What?
- It's nothing. I was happy to. - Thanks.
I owe you.
Happy to help.
I owe you one.
That's good. What is it? Your new album?
No, it's for the Van Straat show.
Tell me what you think as an outsider. I don't know anymore. I work nonstop.
- I'm the same. - Be honest.
No yes-men. Keep it real.
I'm digging the infrasound.
It slaps, right?
But if I may…
Something is out of whack. Your hi-hat is off.
Drop it. Stick with kick-snare, kick-snare. Try it.
- Elliot? - Elliot.
Mute the hi-hats.
That's on the house.
Play it. Give the vocals more reverb.
Three, two, one.
And the drop, let's go!
Fuck, that's killer.
They'll be putty in our hands at Fashion Week.
- You gotta come. - Yeah, I'm game.
Models, celebrities in the front row. And I'm center stage, boom, Vestax!
- Yeah. - And they're all chanting, "Vestax!"
"Vestax!"
"Stop, I'm blushing. I don't like people screaming my name."
All right, okay.
Vestax! Vestax!
Look at the models, not me! I'm just the DJ.
A gift.
"Your number one fan, Vestax." Wow.
I think I'm done with electro.
I need to think bigger, you know? Fashion, movies.
- Sure. - Speaking for myself. No offense.
- Don't worry. I'm the same. - I mean-- You might…
Right now, I'm all about being a complete artist.
Slash, slash, slash…
That's good shit.
Oh, fuck!
- Are you fucking joking? - Oh, fuck!
- Shit! - I can't even…
- Wait! - What?
- Just listen! - What?
Hear how sick it sounds with the alarm?
Hey, you're right. Yeah, yeah. Yeah!
Oh, yeah!
Yeah, that's sick.
- Are you into mezcal? - What?
- Mezcal. You into it? - Hell, yeah.
Cheers!
- Another? - No, I'll go easy.
Okay.
Molo!
- What's up? - You good?
I'm good. You?
How are you? Join us.
- Who's that? What's his name? - Scorpex.
Luis!
- Can he come over? - Sure.
Always.
You up for it, guys? Where were you before?
- Okay. - Scorpex.
- Vestax, is he a friend of yours? - Yeah, I mean…
- Yeah. - Let me have the dropper.
No, I'm fine. I'll have some later.
What's with the shitty music?
That's Exta. Want me to handle it?
- Yeah. - I'll take care of it.
Go ahead.
Who is that loser?
Sorry, excuse me.
- Exta, what's up? - Luis!
- You good? - Captain.
I'm with a bunch of weirdos. One thinks you fucked his sister.
- Who? - The bald one who looks like Gru.
A blonde with an accent, tattoo on her ass. Ring any bells?
A "Carpe diem" on her ass?
I don't know the details, but he's bad news.
He's itching to kick your ass. Take a break.
- I have security. He wouldn't dare. - Exta, I mean it.
You wanna know what he did?
So, move it.
Get rid of him!
Don't worry. Go have a smoke.
- That slaps. - Yeah, it's not bad.
I mean, it's pretty basic, but he does it well.
This is killer! Like Italo, Greco, disco, techno,
Mexican ghetto vibes!
- Listen to this. - So dope.
It's fire!
- …in the Meatpacking District in New York. - The Mix?
A seedy place. No, not The Mix. It was much earlier.
I was doing a set for a small label.
Suddenly, a guy kicks off on the dance floor,
which was just full of chicks.
He takes off his hood. Guess who? Fucking Kanye West.
And he goes, "Scor--" I mean, I hear "Scorpex, Scorpex."
A minute later, he's in the DJ booth, praising me.
I said, "All good, bro." I shake his hand.
No stress. Our agents get in touch.
Three days later, he's on TV in a bulletproof vest
and running for president. Fucked our plans.
You keep dropping names, but it's bullshit.
It isn't, bro!
There's a photo on Instagram. You can check.
It's definitely Kanye West.
You can't tell 'cause he's looking down. But I swear it's true.
Two years ago, Fashion Week at Le Baron, Travis Scott shows up.
What does he do?
- Blind test at my place, guys. - Yeah!
Yeah! I rule at blind tests.
You don't know how they play.
- Do you see it? - No.
What do you see?
I see…
Okay, take a step back.
What do you see now?
The same thing, just further away.
- I see the Parisian sky-- - A skull.
Oh, yeah, a skull. Of course.
Oh, yeah! I see the skull now. Amazing.
You can't see shit up close. The eye sockets, the nose.
- Worth a fortune. - Oh, yeah?
All right, blind test!
Yeah!
Okay! I'll remind you of the rules.
Why do we all have knives?
Meaning?
- Space Captain? - Yes!
Damn it!
It's my job. It's my job.
- Are you a DJ or what? - I know.
Take a good look.
Knives!
Take this!
Fuck! Look at his face!
I know it.
- Come on! - Mara-- Marado-- Maradona.
- Barracuda… - Well?
"Maracuja Pasquale!"
Yes!
It's a remix.
Shazam it.
But it's old-- No!
- Shazam it. - Knives!
Knives!
I'm sure it's a remix.
Okay. Very, very hard level.
Vestax?
- No! - I mean, I think it is.
No!
- That's not fair! - Vestax!
- Wait, Molotov!
- Knives! - Take this!
Fuck!
Is he dumb or what?
Serves you right, asshole.
Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm.
Calm.
Molotov? Molotov?
- Molo? - What happened?
I don't know. He isn't breathing. Molo?
- Molotov? - I'll call an ambulance.
Huh? Wait…
I don't think you get it. We don't bring ambulances or cops here.
- But… - We shouldn't be here.
Okay? So, let's get out of here.
But you-- We can't leave him like that.
We can't leave him lying there.
The Van Straat show is in two days. If you want to stay, stay.
- I trust you. Full gratitude. - I don't need your gratitude.
You handle…
What happened? Did you try slapping him to wake him up?
You slap him.
- No, you slap him! - No, you!
- You know him better. - So?
Knowing him better doesn't mean I should slap him.
I don't slap guys called Molotov.
It's a nickname. His name is Nikola.
Molo?
- Molotov? - Not like this.
Molotov.
Are you completely insane?
You'd call the cops?
No, I said ambulance. Big difference. Who do you think I am?
"Molotov."
You almost passed out. You okay?
Molotov doesn't overdose. Right…
Fuck…
I told you we could trust him.
What do you need him for?
I don't know, just to help me. He's got skills.
It could be good to…
For the show?
Yeah. Yeah, for instance.
Well, if you-- Yeah, sure, why not?
I don't mind as long as it slaps. Right?
"I'll call an ambulance."
Yeah, good one.
I think we should use one of your tracks.
Something classic, basic, old school. And then I jump in.
I'll bring the vibe, something modern. Something that slaps.
- Got it? - Totally.
- Double X. - Sure. Double X.
Hey! Get the track to the ambassador by tomorrow.
Okay, no problem.
Who is the ambassador?
"Your number one fan, Vestax"?
Yeah, he insisted. I didn't want to upset him.
Whatever.
Check your inbox. Drake wants to collaborate.
Toni. I'll explain later, but you can't stay.
What?
Pack your things.
Right. Bathroom, kitchen. You know all that.
And this is for sleeping.
- Sleeping? - You'll sleep here.
You said you made music? Right?
Yes.
Then you aren't allowed in the house until you've got a banger.
Deal?
- Are you serious? - Very serious.
Deal?
These are all collector items, so no parties or bullshit.
Great start.
Do you have a project to load?
- Yeah. - Bring it.
Let's create a folder for my sweetie pie.
Toni. Okay.
- Let's listen. - No.
- It's a demo. You can't hear it yet. - Seriously?
- Well, yeah. - I'm a pro.
I can listen to a work in progress, you know?
If I let you, can we hear your track afterwards?
Don't blackmail your dad.
- Come on. - No, stop.
No.
I'd really love to hear what you've made.
But be nice. It's not finished.
- I promise. - And don't give any advice.
Okay.
There you go.
You know what? How about a little Moog?
Well, it's not finished. I told you that.
It already sounds great, sweetie.
I'm kind of…
blown away.
Okay, then. Try a bass line.
GOT THE TRACK? ANY GOOD?
Go ahead. You do it.
No, it's your thing.
- No, you do it. It'll be our thing. - No.
It's your track. Figure it out.
Okay.
Well, sweetie…
I'll let you work.
- What time is she done? - She's streaming all night long!
Why? Is it urgent?
No. I need some help on a track, but…
- Right, see you! - But…
Come on, guys. Help me out here!
Come jam with us.
No…
You're looking at a future brand ambassador.
- Really? - Yeah.
I was bored to death ten minutes ago, and then you show up.
For Van Straat, about what we discussed…
Yes? No? Go fuck yourself?
No, it's just that right now, we're kind of… busy, you know?
It's a very specific brief. They really want electro music.
Electro is old news. It has been since 2018.
When you say collaboration, do you mean something official?
Yes. There comes a point when you have to make it official.
Well? Are you waiting for me to suck you off or what?
Hear me out.
I need you, Marius. Do you understand?
I need my team, my army. I need your support, damn it.
Don't lecture me about support.
I've always had your back.
I'm the only fool waiting for your new record.
Fine.
Suck on that. See you at the Grammys.
Nice seeing you, Luis!
Screw you.
Get back to Rose.
Well, well, well!
This is…
What's up?
It's tonight. This is insane.
Wanna see it?
- Yeah, sure. - Lights and all?
Fabrice?
Fabrice!
He heard you.
Sorry. Okay, check this out.
- I'll be up there. - Okay.
Up there, helmet, full astronaut. Talking to people.
I can't really see much, but who cares?
I'll press some buttons, fake it. They'll love it.
So, the left ball will have "EX" projected on it.
- And the right one will have-- - "TA." Right?
- Yeah. - Amazing.
That'll look dope. "Exta"!
- My name. - Awesome.
And I think people will dig the whole phallic thing. Okay, listen.
I need a small favor.
Fuck. It does look like a dick.
Well, isn't that the point?
Shit.
Well, anyway…
Fucking hell.
- Jean-Marc, I need your help. - No.
- What? - No one knows that's my name.
No one's here. It's fine.
- Yeah, but still. Go ahead. - Listen.
I need you to hook me up with a track.
A beat, 16-bar loop, no stress, please.
How about… no?
What's gotten into you?
My career is all about moving forward.
No looking back.
- I only make my own beats. - Always look back, buddy.
The people you meet on the way up are the same on the way down.
Sure, but I think you should focus on the climb as you go up.
Yes, I agree, Jean-Marc.
- Listen carefully. - Exta.
Who came up with the name Exta?
- You did. - Keep it to yourself.
- It's between you and me. - Okay.
- Okay? - Thanks.
- No worries. - Yeah.
Listen, I need a talented guy to help me out of a tricky spot,
so I came to you.
I won't credit you. No one will know. It's between you and me.
- Take it as a compliment. - I can't.
- I could've asked anyone. - But what I can do
- is to give you a hug and help you-- - Are you fucking serious?
Fuck, I have visions of you coming to me, like,
"Please can I do a set? Can I play a quick set?"
I still remember what we were wearing.
I was in Balenciaga and you were in shorts.
If your mother were still here and heard you
refusing to help me when I'm down…
Really? My dead mother?
Yes. Well, may she rest in peace, but…
- Jean-Marc, honestly-- - Stop fucking calling me Jean-Marc!
That's it!
Oh, fuck. This is kicking off!
Vestax!
Hear that? Dope, right?
What do you think?
Yeah! Yeah, yeah. It's the bomb, right?
- Do I get a credit? - Yes or no?
Call me back!
- Okay. Come on. - Fuck!
Export and send. I gotta go. I'm in a rush.
Sent.
- I owe you one. - Two, actually.
Do you mean those two?
Yeah, you're right.
- What the hell? - Refusing my calls stresses me out.
- Understand? - Who do you take me for? Your girlfriend?
What are you doing?
Never interrupt a stream. It's sacred, damn it!
Do you know what's sacred, Luis?
- The mission. - No. It's your mission.
- Sorry. - Do you have the track for Vestax?
How do you know that?
You bugged Molotov's place?
You know I had to listen to music while they threw knives?
And that one hit me? And that they have a clandestine lab?
Oh, you didn't know?
Now you do because I did my job and got you the intel!
From now on, I want close protection, 24/7, for my daughter and me.
You have close protection.
Clearly. Is this what you call protection?
Play the track, please.
Please, Luis.
No.
For you, it's the mission, raids, and abandoning your agents.
- Let me handle the artistic side. - I can't.
Molotov has to approve your track. That's your mission.
Getting it approved, tonight. That's your mission.
- Luc. - Yes.
What are you doing? No, you don't invade my creative space.
- Be a good boy and-- Who is he? - Can you stop and let me brief you?
The party is at an embassy.
- It's a fake party. - Okay.
It's a front for a meeting.
We think Dricus will be there, but we can't get in.
But you can get in because you're the DJ.
Yeah. They want me to do a back-to-back set.
- Do you know what a back-to-back is? - Of course.
Okay, what is it?
Well, a back-to-back is when…
- When? - It's a back-to-back.
You stand back-to-back.
You've done your research. How reassuring.
It's a DJ set with two DJs. They want me to do one with Vestax.
There you go. That's great.
Sweeten him up, Luis. It's important.
He suggested to Molotov that we collaborate
on the track for the show.
Well, his producer ditched him. That's why he called you, so…
I don't think so.
No cell phones are allowed in.
We'll give you some headphones with a tiny camera in them.
- Okay? - Like a gadget?
- Exactly. - I'll show you.
There's a little sensor.
- Yeah. - Okay?
It's programmed to trigger…
when you go like this…
- Okay. Got it. - Let's go!
Hey, enough. Can I try it?
Sure.
You need to ID Dricus and take photos with that.
That's it.
Okay.
A DJ saves France. Pretty cool, right?
- Good evening. - Can I have your name?
Scorpex and Vestax. We're not on the list. We're the DJs. Okay?
- How are you? Good? - Good evening.
Hi, how are you?
- Sorry, no… - No electronic devices.
Come on, this is my gear. I'm the DJ.
- Who cares, bro? They have loads. - No, I only mix…
Sorry, I only use my own headphones.
- Sorry. - Forget it.
- Want a drink? - Yeah.
I'll get them.
Molotov is here.
Wait, don't you want to hear the track first?
I already heard the beginning. It's good. Really good.
Bro, you're Scorpex. Why worry?
The buildup.
You know, Molotov, it isn't finished.
There's room for improvement. It's a work in progress.
It's V1. A demo.
But it's already pretty lit.
You did this together?
- Sure. It's a collaboration. - Yeah.
Double X.
Okay.
Not what I asked for.
Well, a remote collab.
We sent each other files,
so it wasn't a real collaboration, but…
New brief.
Now, it's eclipse.
Yeah, okay. I get it.
But we can build on this, right?
No, start from scratch.
- Okay. - Wanna get high?
Sure.
Angel Rocket.
AKA "The drop."
- Careful, it hits fast. - I'm ready.
After the set, sure, but I need to stay focused.
DJ focus.
Sorry. Sorr-- Wait!
Leave him. He's with us.
What do you want?
I wanted…
- If I need to mix… - What?
Why are you here?
- Can't you see we're talking? - Yes, sorry.
I mean if you have any-- You know…
- The-- What's it called? - What?
What you offered me earlier. The…
- You want the drop? - The drop.
Guys, he wants the drop.
I've never tried it.
- He wants the drop! - I heard it's good.
The drop! The drop!
Stick your tongue out.
- Just a drop, not-- A droplet. - Go on.
- There you go! - Not too much.
Does it hit fast?
I've got a hard-on!
That makes me so happy.
SOUND EXPERT EVENT EQUIPMENT HIRE - PRO DJ
Well?
Operation Banger terminated.
- You know what? - What?
The police aren't so bad.
Breathe.
We're lucky to do jobs like this.
To help others.
Let's get him something to eat.
Angel Rocket is…
That shit is going to be a fucking hit!
You should try it. It's…
- No, thanks, we're fine. - Yes!
Yes! Every officer!
Listen, the mission is wrapping up.
I wanted to say I've grown to like you.
I did. It's true.
I ended up liking you. You know what? Honestly, Rose…
- You're nothing special, but you're nice. - Sure.
- I know it's not easy for you. - Okay.
We need people like you.
We need you to defeat these-- Look! There!
The bald one, there! Come on, look at him…
- Look! No. - It's blurry.
- It's very blurry. It's unusable. - That too.
- This fucking erection! - They're terrible.
This might work.
Is that him, Luis?
How long does this fucking last?
Luis, focus! Is that him?
That one. Dricus!
- Bertrand for Rose. - My legs feel cold.
Keep the teams on standby. Target identified.
Copy. Awaiting instructions.
- Thanks to who? - Thank you, Luis.
- Thank you, Scorpex. - Thank you, Scorpex.
- Luis? - Yeah.
- Stay discreet. - Yeah.
- Yeah! - Calm down.
Luis?
Luis!
Wakey-wakey. Get up. Come on.
Fucking hell-- This chick is a nightmare.
You fucked up. The guy we arrested wasn't Dricus.
A bald dude at the head of a table in a room of thugs isn't the boss?
It's not him. You got carried away. Come on.
Are you sure he was there?
Yes, he was there. He was…
He wasn't there.
- You weren't sure… - Pretty sure.
Pretty sure? You guys are a bunch of irresponsible clowns for sending me in.
You have to go back. You don't have a choice, so…
No way am I risking my life for you.
No messing around. There's no way.
Too risky. You got the wrong guy and blew my cover. I won't go back.
Wait. "Risking your life"? Don't exaggerate.
I told you. We are sure that nobody suspects you.
Plus, we're watching your back.
- No risk involved. - Yeah, sure.
We can't give up now.
You finally have a chance to do something meaningful.
Make your daughter proud. Don't you want that?
Listen to me. I got you a guy. It wasn't the right one. Not my problem.
From now on, I'm out. I'm done. Leave me the fuck alone.
Sorry, that's the window.
The door is back there. There's a handle at hip level.
Did you know that Toni likes to play terrorists on the weekend?
Leave my daughter out of this.
Does Heart of Earth ring a bell?
Three little soy-eating hippies trying to save the planet?
Eco-warriors or fascists, the authorities don't see much difference.
What if Toni were a threat to national security?
I don't think you realize how it would affect her.
Gatherings of over 50 people, for example, she couldn't go. Ever.
At least she wouldn't become a DJ.
Because people only gather at clubs? Think about it.
It's public buildings, schools, airports, but hey…
Since you're part of the family, we can make sure that doesn't happen.
To your little girl.
Come on. Get up. We're going.
Time to go! Hurry up, Luis.
This is really petty, you know? Really petty.
Disco.
House.
Techno.
Trance.
Ghetto.
Gabber.
I didn't know you had a daughter.
Young. Pretty.
A musician.
Brussels Academy of Fine Arts?
Despite my DJ father.
You exaggerate.
Don't you answer your phone?
- You called me? - Yeah.
- I never listen to my voicemail. - Let's go for a walk.
See you, Toni.
Oh, no. That's really not my thing. Sorry.
Give Youri your cell.
How about you tell me what's going on?
Hang on, I don't…
Someone snitched.
A snitch. Okay.
Get undressed.
Okay.
Everything in the bag.
- Come on! - All right…
I'm doing it.
DJ Ibiza.
Okay! All right!
Will you be…? No.
Just the guests.
What's up, guys?
How's it going?
Where are you with the track?
Are you kidding? Where are you with the track?
Okay, you're struggling.
No. You're struggling.
Play.
I'm terrible at…
Play!
Fine.
Hi.
Solids or stripes?
Stripes.
He sucks ass.
- I'm a bit tense. - Fuck. What a disaster.
Start again. Get into position.
- What? - Get into position.
I'll show you something.
Right, first, don't hold your hand like that.
Right, okay.
Hold it firmly behind you. Clear your mind. Take a breath.
There. Look.
Grip the wood tightly.
No, no, no!
Come on? "Grip the wood"?
Sorry, Molotov. I can't do this.
I can't do this anymore.
You want a track in two days, fine. But naked pool, surrounded by guys?
I'm not sure what you want, but don't push yourself up against me
and blow down my neck with your minty breath.
I can't.
I like you.
Yeah, well…
I can tell.
Yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Right.
- Can I get dressed now? - Not yet.
Youri found a conversation.
I'm sure he did.
Rose Banger.
Wait, no. It's pronounced "Rose Bangée."
- Rose Banger. She's French. - Why erase her messages?
Because…
I'm in love with my best friend's wife, Rose.
Out of respect or cowardice, I don't know…
I'm not proud of it, but there it is.
She'll be surprised.
Hello?
Rose, my love, this is your favorite DJ.
Why are you calling?
I'm calling because I wanted to hear you. I wanted to…
hear your voice.
Luis, I told you. I decide when and where, okay?
Bossy.
I know, sorry. I hope I'm not interrupting.
You aren't with your-- That you weren't with him.
Are you high?
No, babe. Not anymore. You're my only drug.
You get my blood pulsing at 130 BPM.
I'm crazy about you, Rose.
Me too, my love. I…
I want you so bad right now.
Don't get me excited, baby.
I want to feel…
your body against mine.
Your skin against mine.
Stop, damn it.
- Your smell turns me on. - I know, babe.
Talk dirty to her. Really dirty!
It drives me crazy.
- Photos! - I want to…
- My love… - Nudes!
- …be with you. - Honey, I have to go.
Someone wants a photo.
No photos. Photos are private.
- The Bible forbids this. - I'm not Catholic.
Spasiba, guys.
Hey, Scorpex!
Tonight's show…
So, we agree that it sounds much better with a real Moog?
Seriously.
Did you think I'd go through your computer or steal your music?
Meaning?
Well, it's empty. Not a single demo or file.
Listen, Toni, we need to talk.
About time.
I've got a lot of work in the pipeline, loads.
Cool stuff. So, I need the studio back.
I'm sorry.
And it's nothing to do with the guy who squeezed you earlier?
What guy? The bald dude? No, not at all. He's nobody.
Nice guy.
Okay. I'll go then.
What is your problem? You don't want me at home or in the studio.
I make an effort, but I never fit in.
- Relax. - Don't tell me to relax!
You've done nothing but lie. You think I don't see it?
For once, we have something to share, and you…
You kick me out.
Listen. Wait, wait.
I can explain.
The guy from earlier. You're right, he's not a friend.
- Yeah, no kidding. - He's why I brought you here.
Now that he was here, the studio isn't safe, sweetie.
What do you mean? Safe from what? Tell me.
Toni, Toni, Toni.
Okay, Toni, what I'm about to say is super-ultra top secret,
so you can't tell anyone.
Fucking hell. What a mess. Right!
I work in intelligence.
I'm a secret agent working on a very sensitive case.
The only way to protect you is to send you home to your mom in Brussels.
Okay.
I don't know what's worse.
Lying to your daughter or the lies you choose to tell.
No, sweetie, wait. I swear. Honey, listen.
Toni?
Seriously? You blow your cover to your daughter just like that?
- Rose? - Are you out of your mind, Luis?
Where are you? Wait.
You're spying on me?
Did you bug my studio?
- It's our job to know everything. - Your job?
Is it your job to make me play naked pool with lunatics?
Where was my protection then? Huh?
Security, my ass!
Relax. It had to happen. We knew you'd come through.
You're clean. Don't worry. There isn't much time before the show.
I'll be your assistant. I'll bring the others.
Hold on.
What others?
Vestax is here.
Any tea or coffee?
Nothing.
Actually, could you start clearing this place up?
- What's up? You good? - Welcome. Yeah, I'm chill.
Cool setup.
- Needs some ventilation, but… - Guys. This is Elke.
She's singing on the track. Tabitha's request.
Sorry, wasn't it an instrumental?
We are incredibly lucky to have her. Make the most of it.
- Okay. - I want something…
Reggaeton.
But street.
Smooth.
But spicy.
Got it? Vestax, make me that thing. What's it called?
- A banger? - That's it, a banger.
Wow, without warning?
He shot me.
Get to work. The show is in a few hours.
It is an honor to have you here.
- No. - No? I get you.
- Respect. Please show her to the booth. - Sure. Follow me.
- See you on the other side. - I'll show you.
I think she's shy.
So, care to explain this last-minute bullshit?
Don't go there.
- Meaning? - Forget it.
All right, Elke. Are you ready? Is the mic all right?
We'll play you a demo.
Vibe to it. Take your time. Don't watch the clock. Okay?
- Okay. - Right. Let's go.
Did you hear him? Reggaeton--
I heard. Smooth but spicy, but I don't sell kebabs, man.
Just play something.
"Play something"? What do you want me to play?
- You don't have anything? - Hang on.
- Give me a sec. - Fuck.
Elke?
Scorpex. Let's try something different.
I'll drop a little beat, and you can freestyle a cappella.
Let yourself go.
We'll record everything and make a track you'll be proud of.
Honestly, I'm a little uncomfortable. I'm not used to working like that.
I understand, but that's how I like to work.
Trust me on this, okay?
Okay. Then, if you don't mind, could you please turn around?
- Of course. - Let me work.
Give me some space to focus and be free.
- Sure. - Is she serious?
- What's your name? - Renata.
Renata will press the record button.
- When you're ready, Elke. - I'll take a second to focus.
No worries.
Turn around. Turn.
Renata.
Press that button.
- Yes, I know. - Okay.
Come on…
Elke! Elke.
Right. This isn't working.
That won't work. What was that?
It's all wrong. How should I put it?
You need to sing.
Actually, that was Dutch.
- Van Straat is Dutch. - It's Dutch!
- If there's an issue, tell me now. - No.
Absolutely not.
There's no issue because it was perfect. You got it in one.
But we'll make sure, just in case. Let's go from the top.
- Do exactly what you did. It was perfect. - Okay.
Are you gonna suck her dick all day? It's shit.
- Ridiculous. - The talkback is still on.
I can hear you.
Shit. I mean…
I'll be honest. I can feel a panic attack coming on.
- No! No, no, no. - No, no, no.
Relax. It's fine. It wasn't about you.
No! Don't tell me to relax.
I took the metro despite my anxiety. Nothing is ready.
- You didn't do your job. - Calm down.
You treat me like dirt. At some point, no! Enough is enough.
She's leaving.
- Let's take a breath. - "Despite my anxiety."
- Let's take five. - Come on!
- Elke. - What is this? The 1980s?
No, Elke.
Easy! Chill out. What's wrong?
Careful. Be very careful. Right. Good luck with those assholes.
Elke, please don't go.
Hey, go easy on the "assholes," please.
What a generation of snowflakes. With her hairy-ass coat, she wants to…
You're insane.
She acts like a wannabe Beyoncé in my studio? She can get lost.
You don't question Tabitha.
What great taste she has!
She's the big boss's protégé.
Doesn't Molotov have priorities other than meddling with music?
I thought he was a gangster.
You don't get it, do you? It isn't about Molotov.
Bro, you fucked up. I was supposed to play it to them.
Fuck, what do I do now? Seriously…
- What? Do you want a photo? - Unbelievable.
- What? - You've lost it.
This is my kingdom, my studio. If you don't like it,
then use your legs and get lost.
Your kingdom? For fuck's sake. Yeah, a kingdom of dumbasses!
Do you not realize that the big boss is Dricus? Luis!
Is it sinking in? For fuck's sake, Luis.
- But… - You're a pain in my ass!
What do you want me to do? She sang…
For two seconds because you insulted her. Maybe if you'd let her talk.
- She shouldn't have annoyed me. - Yeah, that's enough.
It's like a strangled cat. What do I do with that?
- It's so short. - Add some effects.
Make it sound cool.
You can do that.
Like the intro to "X-Love."
Minimalist with purpose.
Nothing and everything.
- Go on. Try it. - Yeah, okay. Give me time to…
- Okay. - Go on.
Okay!
Okay.
Honestly, the repetitive beat sounds awesome.
Yeah, but it needs a "boom, boom." You know? Something like…
- Do it then. Yeah. - Some bass.
- I'll add it in. - Go on.
It's a hit.
That's it. Great, we got it. Perfect. Fuck, yeah!
They'll love it.
Honestly, I'm pretty pleased with it.
Oh, fuck.
Molotov!
Okay!
- They are insane. - Of course they are.
He's shitting himself. Do you know who his boss is? He's a psycho.
He's wanted internationally.
But he's always at the Van Straat show. That's how much he loves the brand.
That's why Molotov is shitting himself.
And you blew it. You've fucked everything up.
You really are a waster, aren't you?
Your life is on the line and you still can't shit out a track.
I hook you up and this is how you thank me?
- You hooked me up? Get lost. - Yeah, I did.
Where's the complete artist you sold me?
Fuck you! I'll make my own track.
Yeah, right.
Rose, it's Scorpex. Listen closely.
Dricus will be at the show. I'm sure of it.
Maybe as staff or in the audience, but he'll be there.
Get ready.
Hello.
I know you don't recognize me.
My name is Scorpex. I'm working on the music for the show.
Yes, well, hello.
Vestax is the sound designer.
Oh, yeah?
This "sound design," did he send it? Have you heard it? Do you like it?
- Yeah, where is the track? - Yeah, where is it?
- It's… - It's…
Nowhere to be seen. And you have a long wait because Vestax bailed.
I know that because I made the track.
Trust me.
The real star of your label
is Tabitha.
I don't care about fashion. You know what? What I do is real.
She needs to hang up or we won't get anywhere.
- Jesus. - Okay, Tabitha?
- What? - Is the temperature okay?
The mic, the headphones. Are you good?
No, I'm hot and the headphones crackle.
- Go see her. - Coming.
The headphones… What's going on here?
Other side. There.
- Is that okay? Right. - Fine.
Right, Tabitha.
I'm interested in you. Just you.
Your views, your vision for the brand and your collection,
but also society, life, everything. It's all about you.
Music.
Okay, Tabitha, ready for an epic take?
We've discussed this. I can't…
Cut, cut, cut!
- Is something wrong? - What?
- What's that? - Is it crackling?
- What is that? - What? The track?
- Yeah. - It's just a demo.
- Tabitha? - A work in progress.
It's just a stripped-down beat. I'll flesh it out,
- produce, it'll be… - Stripped down…
…much more…
- Something insane. - Let's show some belief.
- Yeah! - It sounds good. Let's go.
- It's all good. - Two hours to go.
- No! - No.
- Yes. - No!
- She said no. - Clearly.
- This sucks! - Really?
- Okay. - Okay.
- Okay. It's a no. - Right, Tabitha!
It's something that all the greats do. I mean, Beyoncé, Rihanna, Gaga, everyone.
- Get to the point. - It's full on a cappella.
I'll drop a beat, like a metronome…
She won't like that.
And go for it--
- See? - I want a beat.
- I want to feel something. - We need a beat, not a folk song.
Got it? Play something.
Okay. Sure, no worries.
That's not what I meant. Take them from the Petit Palais to the show.
Let's watch what we say, Tabitha.
- All right. - Jesus!
- No. - It's coming.
- Come on! I don't know… - Just a sec.
Are you doing it live or what?
I know we only have two hours. Don't remind me. I don't need a parrot.
Ready, Tabitha?
Okay, turn up the volume.
Louder. Stay on it.
Are you working for any brands right now?
Not right now.
Say the name of the brand!
More drama.
That's it.
This is great.
Breathe! Breathe!
Yeah! She's good.
- Over here! - Here, please!
- Please! - Over here.
Over here!
- Scorpex. - Oh, thank you.
- Good evening. - Evening, sir, welcome.
Please follow me. I'll take you to the decks.
Hang on. I'll just…
Right here!
To the right!
- Here! - One more. Look to the side.
- That's it! - Over here!
- One more! - Please!
Scorpex! Scorpex!
- Sir, step aside. People are waiting. - What?
- You are in the way. - What do you mean?
I'm the DJ.
- How's things? - What?
- Trying to fuck me over with the music? - No.
- Come with me. - No! No photos!
- Now! - No photos.
Scorpex!
Mr. Capitani!
You're mixing up there.
- Up there? - A DJ in the sky.
A star, just like you.
And thanks for Tabitha. She loved it.
I thank her and you.
- No. - I should thank you.
Jayden! Come here.
Fix the shell. It's too puffy.
Come on. Focus!
- Come with me. - Let's go!
Tabitha! Tabitha, look.
- There's nothing underneath. - Hold on!
Wear this. We picked it out. Everyone wears Van Straat tonight.
Go on.
We're missing an outfit, Jayden! We're missing an outfit.
You can't change your mind every five minutes.
Two minutes!
Marie! I need some more clips.
Size 32, please.
- Is it all right? - Yeah.
Good. Good, good, good.
I need it looser.
Léa, do I come after you?
It's now or never, right?
Bring it!
Under the left turntable.
Everyone, focus!
It's the first row on the right.
- Rose? Rose? - What?
Dricus is Capitani.
What?
I saw his scars.
Fuck.
Play. Stick to the plan. We'll get him when it starts.
Okay.
DJ!
Toni?
- Why the hell are you here? - Why are you here?
I'm working.
Oh, fuck.
- What? You don't want me on the runway? - No.
I did something unforgivable.
You may hate me, but you'll understand if you let me explain.
I promise I'll explain everything. Sweetie,
- I feel like shit. - Luis, stop! Play the music!
I don't have to play your track.
What track? What do you mean? Play the music!
- Why are you here? - What are you doing?
I should be up here. Get lost!
Luis?
Stop!
- What's going on up there? - What's that jerk up to?
Where's the music?
I'll call security.
- Seriously? - Luis!
Now.
Fine. I get it. I'm leaving…
Go, go, go! Come on, go!
What the hell?
- What are you doing? - VIP.
- VIP! - Sir, you can't!
It isn't what you think.
- Are you okay? - Sweetie.
I don't know why I did it.
Our track slays, Dad.
Luis, where the fuck are you? We're waiting for you for the debrief.
What do I tell them? You're an embarrassment! A fucking joke.
Okay, call me back. Love you lots!
Subtitle translation by: Greg Sanford