Polish master Jerzy Skolimowski shuttles between the stories of several characters over the course of eleven minutes on a single day in Warsaw. These minutes turn out to be crucial for their ultimate fate.
Some people might think this is a brave piece of film making from a true maverick; others will see it as 11 minutes of their lives (repeated over and over from different viewpoints) they'll never get back.
An extravagantly pointless exercise in protracting the buildup to some meaningless carnage, garnished with metaphysical pretension so cutesy and vague that it feels actively insulting.
