"Josef" (Pascal Arquimedes) arrives at the apartment of his date "John" (Donal Brophy) and is a bit nervous. Going upstairs to fetch his telephone from his jacket on the bed, he espies a tray of chemical goodies and pops a pill. Not long afterwards, he starts to experience some nausea then we are all taken on an hallucinogenic trip as "John" appears to die and the police proceed to question him - themselves in various guises (including a woman wearing a rabbit mask) - trying to establish what is true and what is not. I'm not really fan of surrealist cinema, and although the effort here from Arquimidedes is proficient, the whole thing rather uncomfortably marries the predictable relationship between gay people, randomness and drugs. I lost interest fairly quickly with this over-long fantasy that tries hard to stimulate intellectually but really only delivers a sort of messy, very wordy, psychologically confused drama about a man about whom I couldn't care less. If you wander into a stranger's house and pop one of his pills, well - you kind of deserve all you get. It is imaginative, I'll give it that - but just not for me.

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