Time and again I have exposed myself to be a connoisseur of nostalgia, a peddler of mix-tape romance, and a champion of the proverbial crash and burn. If this film were a fanzine then it would most definitely want to be Chickfactor. But the obvious rough edges and hepatitis colour grading proves that it is not the case. Some say that it can be The Scenester, but then again this film wields its influences and acidity like a battle-axe rather than like a samurai. At best, this is Nine … that old beloved rag that everybody had forgotten before it even begun. Time-travel … yeah, that’s how the Nine people used to roll. It’s comforting to know that there are still people who make things because they just want to watch the world, or in this case their hearts, burn.