An absolute peach of a film about a "quiet man" Steven Penny (played by director John Paizs himself) and his desires to pen the greatest colour crime movie ever told. His attempts are lovingly documented by his chipper and inquisitive neighbour Kim (Eva Kovacs), who becomes fascinated by Steven after reading scraps from his discarded screenplays, which Steven has thrown to the trash. For you see, Steven is a tormented artist. He can write the beginnings and endings of screenplays, but not the middles... and what screenplays they are! They tell sordid tales of hapless and violent Elvis impersonators; murderous Amway recruits; self-destructive self-help gurus! Yet, however sordid these cutaways become, the film retains a giddy innocence amidst the darkness. It also achieves a feat that very few films achieve, which is to use kitsch in a way that is wholly earnest and sincere, rather than ironic. The whole film has the feel of an after-school special, or those awkwardly mannered edutainment titles reserved for the classroom, but the spirit of parody remains wholly affectionate and the film is often touching and beautiful. This is especially impressive for a film with such strong meta-fictional elements, since it would be easy for such an exercise to become distanced and cynical. However, when Kim educates the viewer about persistence of vision, passing on the knowledge given to her by Steven, we are simply caught up in the joy of it, rather than smirking some knowing smirk as to how clever-clever the enterprise is. With the entrance of criminally insane script doctor Dr. Jolly (Neil Lawrie) the film threatens to become rather dark, yet still retains a lightness of touch. It's a magical piece of filmmaking, quite unlike anything you've ever seen before, one infused with the joys of filmmaking, friendship and the wonder of childhood with the experience of being an adult. It's a beaut.