It's easy to see why Charles Bukowski loves this interpretation of his work. The linking of three Bukowski short stories shows one boy/youth/man's progression from one carefree, fairytale pre-pubescence, through a sexual education which starts conventionally (and wittily) enough but which is derailed in the second episode by the development of the most heart-rendingly grotesque case of acne. De Pauw, as the older Harry Voss, proves a startlingly good actor, leading us gently and sadly from the standpoint of the youth's growing alienation from love and women, down a strange path to an awful place typically reeking of Bukowskian angst, spunk, death, booze, and loneliness. Norra lorra laffs? Untrue. The film is mordantly funny, stunningly designed, exquisitely photographed, quirkily directed, and all too brief. This director, in his debut, knows how to tell a story. Bizarre and beautiful.