It's the kind of film that art house film students dream of. In fact visually it looks very much like an art house film students dream! There's text all over the screen, bits of narration and a truly bizarre story. It's pretty original, it's funny (I think intentionally) and it's nuts. Totally nuts!! Sadly a bit too nuts, good but not great. It sometimes feels like a silent film, with words appearing to help the narrative... but with sound. Some of it struggles and needs some patience, but by enlarge it's fantastic, in every sense of the word. The screen pulses and throbs with energy, it's beautifully crafted. Stories intermingle, twist, plots within plots, within dreams. My one criticism is it's too long, not by a lot, but it would benefit from losing a good 20 minutes. A minor quibble.

I did not enjoy this film. In fact after investing an hour trying to watch it, I had to give up. Some reviewers have used the terms "deep" and a "slog" to get through. Well it was deeper than I wanted to go, and slog is an understatement. I was not able to figure out a plot, it appeared to be a jumble of disconnected clips randomly strung together that made no sense. The harsh flickering high contrast filming style with it's strange pulsation graphic images in the background, was like watching something from the psychedelic 60's. The flickering was like watching a strobe light. The scenes were short and jumped from scene to scene like something from Sesame Street. If you are a fan of Pulp Fiction, you may be able to sit through this film long enough to figure it out. For me, it was an hour of my life I will never get back.

On the face of it, this silly story within story romp through Saturday morning films of a previous generation should be ignored.It is not a pastiche - and the strange punk lurid dream style is both art and annoyance. But the style is to no useful end. And to force an audience to revisit bad early American cinema 'somewhere between Berlin and Bogotá' for 2 hours, with gentle mocking of early 20th century sexual strictures, is quite unfair.It plays out as being more appropriate for a repeating segment in a high concept sketch show than a cinema production. A short experiment of 15 minutes maybe. But to inflict real people to this at full film length seems strangely tragic.

This film, like all those of Guy Maddin, has married the weirdness of David Lynch with the love of film and quirkiness of Wes Anderson, all wrapped up in a unique visual style like no other. It's absolutely gorgeous, a true adventure in filmmaking and film watching filled with dreams- within-dreams and stories-within-stories. It is like a love letter to the history of movies that blends silent films, noir, action, myth, comedy, musicals, and even instructional films into an absurd, self-referential ball.But before you go running out to see it, you should know that it has zero interest in entertaining you. Seriously. It's dense, confusing and difficult to follow, and a tedious slog. There's no plot, if by plot you mean something that will emotionally resonate with you and keep you engaged with following the story or characters. Viewers should be the kind of masochist film geeks who enjoy subjecting themselves to such pain and then feel enlightened for doing so.