"Sun Stroke" would be a better title - if not to describe the disorienting feeling of viewing it, then to describe the leading men - who can't seem to stop doing it to each other. The first 30 minutes are plausible, if slow and poorly written, but then the story becomes a muddle of flashbacks, flash forwards and God knows what else. The director admittedly wanted to 'disorient' the viewer (inspired by Bunuel, he claims) and, well, he succeeded! Sadly, the photography is as poor as some of the dialogue. The film looks to be shot on end stock, which is distracting enough. The dialogue is similarly clunky. "You ask a lot of questions," one hunk says three times to a writer whose shacked up in a desert to finish his novel. But not once does the guy have the wit to follow up with "What are you writing, a book?" Although the leads are fairly credible, the few others are not so good, including the actor playing Crispin, the mysterious owner of said shack. By the end of this extremely languid 90 minutes, I had no idea what was what nor did I care. I suggest a sequel set at the McDowell Colony in January. Call it "Frost Bite".