Sunday

A man leaves a flophouse in Queens, New York. He's greeted by an actress who recognises him as one of her old directors. He's monosyllabic, bewildered, and quite possibly not who she says he is. She takes him home. He tells her a story, about being mistaken for a film director by a woman on the street. They make love. The masquerade continues (if it is a masquerade). This beguiling first feature won the grand prize at the 1997 Sundance festival, gathered great reviews, then disappeared in the States. It's a small picture, little more than an anecdote on the surface, but immensely tantalising.