Zazie - a name given him by his many Tokyo waterfront buddies, ex-girlfriends, and ex-members of his successful punk-rock band 'Junk' - is trying to simplify his life. He resists flattery ('You're a legend, man'), and also invitations to join the re-formed band or get back together with his girl. He takes to wandering the waterfront and mooching about his large, dilapidated house, filming and talking philosophy to his new acquisition, a state of the art video camera. A waitress at his favourite café gently mocks his attempts at honesty ('It's a form of selfishness'); Buddha is invoked in hyperbolic comparison ('He had no responsibilities'); Zazie starts finding it easier to communicate with people by sending them videos. Riju's film wears its heart delightfully on its sleeve: exploratory, noisy, energetic, stylistically experimental and very moving though it may be, it avoids self-consciousness by a special brand of wry humour and its mood of knowing introspection. What surprises is Riju's control and vitality; his camera finds interest everywhere it shoots, and beauty too, not least in the bright industrial Tokyo landscapes.