With deep investigations into the catacombs of self-indulgent smut, one often comes across less than ideal handiwork. While not the best piece of self-indulgence I’ve seen, it’s one with the craftsman’s charm of a dispassionately made wooden bear trinket at a remote tourist destination. Which is to say, the blasé attitude of the man behind the counter who’s been carving these for 40 years gives it its own strange charm from how automatic and numbing the activity became. Homemade, yet polished in indifferent mechanical process. It lacks liveliness, but is without factory cynicism; giving insight into one who has been at it for far toolong. A steadfastness when creating these same baubles countless times, that despite the lack of enthusiasm in his present self, one can see the skill built over those years. The light is gone, but the precision is still there.

That’s roughly how I felt watching this. It lacks the inspiration of other eccentric or unhinged shows, but is still droll from its overall presentation. I can’t help but be smitten by the aesthetics, in spite of the half-heartedness of motivation that seems to emanate off of it. If you like pretty pictures, silly magic, and cute lasses like myself, I’m sure you’ll find this worth a watch.