This first feature by Chicagoan Jennifer Reeder, best known for her "White Trash Girl" videos, is a study in anomie in which a group of emotionally detached characters (among them a therapist, a private detective, and a claims adjuster) somnambulate through a nameless city, only dimly and intermittently aware of one another's presence. Reeder's long takes and isolating compositions evoke profound alienation, but she leavens her dystopian theme with oblique absurdist humor. A woman graphically describes the onset of her period but then claims to have slept through it. The closest thing to a human connection that occurs is a failed flirtation involving the pickup line "Are you from Tennessee? Because you're the only 10 I see." Airplanes passing repeatedly overhead are like additional characters trapped in their own occluded worlds. Most of this works splendidly, but even where it falters the scope of Reeder's ambition has to be taken into account. Showing as part of the Women in the Director's Chair Encore Festival. 80 min. Women in the Director's Chair Theater.