Winnipeg's wizard of the weird, Guy Maddin (My Winnipeg, The Saddest Music in the World) and co-director Evan Johnson plunge us into celluloid delirium with this mad, multi-narrative maze of phantasmal fables.

Honouring classic cinema while electrocuting it with energy, Evan Johnson and Guy Maddin’s grand ode to lost cinema begins (after a prologue on how to take a bath) with the crew of a doomed submarine chewing flapjacks in a desperate attempt to breathe the oxygen within. Suddenly, a lost woodsman wanders into their company to tell his tale of escape from a fearsome clan of cave dwellers, and we are taken high into the air, around the world, and into dreamscapes, spinning tales of amnesia, captivity, deception and murder, skeleton women and vampire bananas. Like a glorious meeting between Italo Calvino, Sergei Eisenstein and a perverted six-year-old child, created with the help of a cavalcade of misfits, thieves and lovers.