1990’s Rural Post-Communist Poland. Four villagers with Casio-tones sing tacky Euro-disco songs about spotted pants & the like. Their fans smile, dance, get drunk, & fight . . . & buy their records: 16 million of them. Bayer Full become the most successful Polish artists ever. 2010 Shanghai. Krzysztof Darewicz, maverick Polish expat, phones Slawek Swierzynski, farmer & leader of the long-forgotten band, with a ‘little plan’: “You will reform & play concerts in China. And, you will sing & record a new album - in Chinese. Simple”. But, in formal talks with the Chinese, Swierzynski makes one cultural gaffe after another - a Chinese ‘Lost in Translation’ this most certainly is. But, unlike Bill Murray, Swierzynski is laughing. Darewicz is not. As the band struggle with the Chinese lyrics, Swierzynski’s fearsome ego awakens & he begins to act of his own volition. “(Swierzynski) seems to forget that this was not & will not be possible without me”. As reports of a ‘67 million CD recording contract’ filter through to the feverish media, Darewicz continues bitterly: “It’s possible your film will be about how Bayer Full didn’t go to China & fooled the entire Polish nation”.