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After what appears to be a series of linked murders, suspicion is thrown on three film-noir loving brothers. When a strange film appears to shed light on the killings, a young detective becomes obsessed with unraveling the mystery only to be drawn into a world of ambiguity where perception and interpretation are challenged by illusion and reality.

"I can see it all as if in slow motion and I can see myself too as if I were watching myself in a movie. First person meets third person. A black and white movie about me with obligatory noirish low-key lighting, shadowy patterning from venetian blinds and banister rails, and lots of murky shots of people reflected in mirrors, and through rain-spotted glass. Pure chiaroscuro. Plenty of Dutch angle shots. Except whole sections have been snipped out: the loyalties, the connecting part of things, the explanations for things, and everything blowing in the grainy gray cinematic wind. I am another man it seems, a sneering spoilsport, a cynical wise ass. The creature who plays me is coarse and hard-boiled, cocky and reckless, a doofus tooting his own sardonic horn. I’m being played by Elmer Fucking Fudd. Looney Toons does noir."