I keep having this dream. It's dark, and there's a house with two women. There's a car and it's raining. At least that's how they start. The liquor is in crystal decanters and Etta James is on the record player. There's lingerie and nudity and sex, but there's also a fair amount of regurgitation. People die, but they come back to life. It doesn't have to make sense, because it's a dream.
Another movie by Nikolaidis featuring women locked into a house chasing shadows and getting madder day by day. It lacks the anguish of Euridice BA 2037 and the extreme of Singapore Sling, but still plays with noir tropes as this last one. Sometimes Nikolaidis' cinema looks a little bit pretentious, but anyway it should be dug up from the grave where it lies given that it's stunningly shot.