In Berlin, 1930, the name Kasebier is on everyone’s lips. A literal combination of the German words for cheese and beer, it’s an unglamorous name for an unglamorous man - a small-time crooner who performs nightly on a shabby stage for labourers, secretaries, and shopkeepers. Until the press shows up.

In the blink of an eye, this everyman is made a star: one who can sing songs for a troubled time. Margot Weissmann, the arts patron, hosts champagne breakfasts for Kasebier; Muschler the banker builds a theatre in his honour; Willi Frachter, a parvenu writer, makes a killing from Kasebier-themed business ventures and books.

All the while, the journalists who catapulted Kasebier to fame watch the monstrous media machine churn in amazement - and are aghast at the demons they have unleashed.