The fire is back — and this time, it’s streaming. In a major announcement that’s already sending shockwaves across the music world, Netflix has officially unveiled “Feuer und Fleisch” (“Fire and Flesh”), an explosive new documentary chronicling the rise, chaos, and legacy of Rammstein, Germany’s most provocative and influential industrial metal band. Premiering globally in February 2026, the film promises a raw and unfiltered look at the six men behind the pyrotechnics, controversy, and artistry that have defined a generation of heavy music.
Directed by Florian Gallenberger, the Oscar-winning filmmaker known for his visceral storytelling and cinematic intensity, “Feuer und Fleisch” delves deep into the band’s 30-year journey — from their origins in post-Cold War East Berlin to their status as one of the most spectacular live acts on the planet. The title itself, “Fire and Flesh,” captures the essence of Rammstein’s eternal duality: the collision of destruction and desire, spectacle and sensitivity, rage and beauty.
The documentary features never-before-seen backstage footage, candid interviews, and exclusive live performances captured during Rammstein’s record-breaking 2024–2025 world tour. Fans will see the band as they’ve never been seen before — stripped of stage armor, reflecting on fame, censorship, loyalty, and the deep brotherhood that has held them together through decades of turmoil and triumph.
Frontman Till Lindemann opens the trailer with his trademark growl: “We’ve burned the stage for years. But this time, we let the fire tell our story.” That statement sets the tone for a film that explores not only the band’s pyrotechnic mastery but also the emotional and creative inferno that fuels their art. From the early days of recording Herzeleid in 1995 to the global domination of Zeit and beyond, “Feuer und Fleisch” captures every spark that built Rammstein into a cultural phenomenon.
The film doesn’t shy away from the band’s controversies — from censorship battles in Germany to accusations of excess and outrage over their provocative stage imagery. Instead, it examines these moments as reflections of a group unafraid to push boundaries in pursuit of truth and art. Guitarist Richard Z. Kruspe describes the band’s creative philosophy in one poignant segment: “We never wanted to shock for attention. We wanted to hold up a mirror — and sometimes, that mirror burns.”
Visually, “Feuer und Fleisch” is a masterpiece of industrial aesthetic. Gallenberger and his team worked closely with the band’s longtime lighting and effects designer Roland “Rogi” Lössl to recreate the intensity of Rammstein’s live atmosphere. Viewers can expect breathtaking cinematography, flames roaring across stadiums, and moments of haunting intimacy that reveal the fragile humanity behind the flames.
In one emotional sequence, drummer Christoph Schneider reflects on the toll of constant touring: “We play with fire every night — not just literally. You have to trust your brothers completely, or you’ll get burned.” It’s a fitting metaphor for the band’s three-decade bond, forged through conflict and loyalty in equal measure.
Netflix executives have described the documentary as a “musical odyssey of power, pain, and persistence”, likening it to Metallica: Some Kind of Monster — but with Rammstein’s unmistakable theatrical ferocity. The streaming giant plans a simultaneous release in over 190 countries, complete with localized subtitles and a limited-edition soundtrack album featuring reimagined orchestral versions of classic Rammstein hits.
Fans are already counting down the days to its debut. Online forums have erupted with excitement, while teaser clips on Rammstein’s official social media accounts have amassed millions of views within hours. For a band that thrives on intensity, “Feuer und Fleisch” looks poised to become not just a documentary, but a cultural event.
More than anything, this film is a celebration of survival — of six men who turned noise into poetry, controversy into connection, and fire into freedom. As Till Lindemann declares in the closing scene: “We were never just a band. We were a storm — and the storm still burns.”