The story of a senior citizen who became a punk.

Documentary movie about the legendary underground fanzine "Krpelj" (The Tick), the brainchild of Danilo Milošev-Wostok.

"(On the Quest for) Beograd Underground" is an independent documentary film in the form of a sequence of interviews with alternative artists from Serbia who have dedicated their lives to the creation of one (sub)culture, very rich in its nuances, yet very precarious in its existence. Numerous artists speak of their conceptions of the underground as a movement, a way of perceiving reality, a way of social engagement, and even a way of living. The specific socio-historical condition in the '90s resulted in intensive artistic activity as a response to the totalitarian regime. This film is a collection of the personal experiences of artists who were involved in the underground scene since the '90s until the first decade of the new millennium.

It is difficult to characterize Slobodan Tišma. He is unique and versatile. He wanders with joy throughout the artistic landscape, drawing it with his words since the early sixties. He started as a poet, he was a conceptualist, an "invisible artist" and a rock musician ("Luna"/"La Strada"- former Yugoslav New Wave bands). Currently, he is a prose writer, and sometimes he engages in minimalistic performances. Wearing different masks he moved from one artistic space to another breaking the stereotypes and creating an aesthetic phenomenon out of his own existence. His mainstay is margin. Through trees and ocean he communicates with the universe. He loves the game of seeking, and hiding again. He is a persistent walker. With his silent steps he pops up daily in the corners of Novi Sad, searching for his own pleasure. Similar to his writings, this film has no formal completeness and comprehensiveness. It wonders who Slobodan Tišma is.

Serbia in the 1990s had an underground scene with different characters mingling, roaming around, walking and talking. They were comic book authors, serious hard core punk fans, relatively young writers, freedom fighters, as well as intellectuals, loud NGO or Christian activists, hobos and underground posers, and probably a couple of fakers and ego-maniacs, to be honest. Everyone wrote something, cut 'n' pasted 'n' copied, reviewed concerts of their own friends, draw comics, made collages and then xeroxed all that and forwarded by mail to as many people possible. In short, it was social networking. But in those days, before Internet, the name was: fanzine-making.