This isn't a movie. It is a collection of unrelated, ill-conceived and poorly assembled scenes that look like the unedited results of a dim 10 year old with a mini-DV camera. In fact, I have a theory that the extremely abrasive girl in the train corridor - the one with the greasy hair, dead-pan stare, ipod and nervous tic - probably shot it herself in a creative phase.

If you made it further than the ten minutes I did, don't bother trying to fit what you saw into the context of the European Artiste mentality praised above. This is a true and complete waste of time, money and film that would have made William One-Shot Beaudine cringe.

The unfortunate part is that the endless series of vacuum-packed characters is representative of what now passes for much of humanity.

What's next? Six directors shooting social intercourse at the Wal-Mart snack counter?