A young woman, sicker than those who dare eat the food at the all-night diner she's perched in, catches an eerie reflection of herself as a child, inspiring a topsy-turvy cataclysm, hermetically sealed within a huge wheel rolling through a movie studio, in Phillip Barker's astounding mind-fuck that proves, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the greatest manifestations of worlds in collision are etched upon the rivulets of an artist's cerebellum and subsequently fed through cinema's sausage tube of joy to produce mounds of minced delights encased in rapture. — Greg Klymkiw, Canada's Top Ten, Toronto International Film Festival

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