An overly curious journalist sits face to face with a resident of the mysterious district of North Shinjuku. One is trying to understand the codes and unspoken truths of a closed community; the other gradually reveals his world. Daisuke Miyazaki delivers an unorthodox, futuristic sci-fi full of recursive effects and false appearances. Shot in lustrous black and white, featuring a series of still images, this impossible dialogue is like a response from the future to Chris Marker’s La Jetée. Harrowing yet leavened by humour, the story includes street kids, ancestral pariahs and, as you’d expect, yakuzas.

A bartender, a serial killer who skins his face and wears it like a mask after killing a guest. One day, he runs into a suspicious man drinking alone at a bar. After killing him and wearing his face like a mask, the bartender soon becomes engulfed in a nightmare fantasy. In the fantasy, he encounters himself, who is much more cruel and bizarre than usual, and finds out that the man is a much crazier man than he is. His face clings to his skin of a bartender, and his madness is at its peak.