A highly personal project, in which the Japanese director often hailed as the worlds greatest living film-maker trots out eight of his dreams in plotless little anecdotes that range from the wistful to the embittered.
About half of the pieces are charming, especially a colourful encounter with Martin Scorsese as a one-eared Van Gogh, but there is a feeling of ho-humness about most of the picture, with a few touches of unintentional humour as a segment about nuclear meltdown on Mount Fuji seems like an extract from a Godzilla movie or an old man in a village whinges endlessly about how modern life has gone to Hell.
There are a few astonishing bits, with gorgeously costumed dancing foxes and peach blossoms or a regiment of ghost soldiers, but on the whole this is like being trapped in a corner by one of those hippies who insist on telling you about this amazing dream he had last night.