Back in the heyday of European exploitation cinema, when Italians made Westerns in Almería, when blind zombies rode out of tombs and black-gloved killers stalked beautiful women in their shower, Klaus Kinski was the king of the quickly and cheaply made films that have since become cult. An accomplished actor with a hot temper, no one used to take him seriously, except Werner Herzog. Together they made five films that became part of film history's canon. But what could have been a fruitful work relationship morphed into a nightmare. Kinski claimed Herzog was a talentless hack and did not understand the beauty, the scope and the sheer greatness of his talent while Herzog was trying to protect his work from Kinski, whom he started to believe was a raving lunatic. And yet, Herzog thrived on this tumultuous relationship, out of which some of his most iconic masterpieces were shaped, ripped away from the claws of chaos. Torn between love and hate, the director tells it all in this film made after the actor’s death.