Oh dear. Makhmalbaf has always been an erratic filmmaker, prone to bouts of visually spectacular but hollow rhetoric, but here he really falls flat on his face. Tajikstani dance instructor Jôn resolves on his 40th to wage revolution against himself. What that means, in effect, is to reminisce about and reassess his relationships with four different women, prompting much musing on the nature and transience of love, amid lots of prancing about in his studio to music which is very pleasant but so repetitive as to soon wear out its welcome. It’s all very pretty, in a decorative kind of way, but hardly coherent or convincing – let alone dramatically involving.