Fresh from brilliant adaptations of two Haruki Murakami stories, Yamakawa teamed up with hip novelist Takahashi to reach for postmodern heaven. Billy (Mikami), aged 21, waits tables in the Schlächtenhaus Saloon, last refuge of humanity from marauding, nihilistic gangs; co-workers include a samurai, Marx-Engels, an artist and the Tokyo telephone enquiries number made flesh. This bastion of global history and culture is duly invaded (the heavies leave a hole in the roof where the rain gets in), clearing the decks for our spiritual and cultural rebirth. Yeah, right. But it's executed with great flair (it has the style and production values of a vintage studio movie) and it's rich in paradoxes: elegiac farce, tragic social satire, you name it. Dreamers, comics addicts and fans of all-girl rock bands such as Zelda will likely very much enjoy it.