Please Come to My Dream, I Want to Hurt You

Messy and misty black & white. A rattling projector. The camera flies along the turbulently sprouting high rise of smog-enshrouded Jakarta. A woman sings a well-known song by Brecht/Weill. As one's gaze moves down, the slums at the foot of the tower can't be called a revelation. The film maker says he doesn't want to obey any rules of film, but does realise how effective it can be to break the rules. (GjZ)