Here’s a shorter and simpler version of Hollis Frampton’s roughly contemporaneous avant garde milestone nostalgia (1971). In that film Frampton, with the assistance or complicity of fellow trailblazer Michael Snow, knocks image and sound provocatively and disturbingly out of synch. Wegman doesn’t seem too invested in disturbing anyone, unless it’s when he eats things that had just a minute ago been lodged in his nostrils. But these characters are mixed up, aren’t they? The guy who is supposed to be able to see is the one who looks like his eyes are impaired. A comment on perceptions and realities? Possibly. Nice shaggy dog lark? Definitely.