The Bad Batch isn't the post-apocalyptic, cannibal love story anticipated by its plot summary, at least, not the kind one would conceive of. A two-hour film with maybe ten minutes of actual plot development, it largely amounts to a mind-numbing array of scenic desert landscapes and Jodorowsky-esque imagery.

The energy expressed throughout is fairly sombre and ratchets up to a high pulse rate in the film's first act, where protagonist Arlen (Suki Waterhouse) is ejected from the United States into Mexico - now a wasteland of rejects and criminals; a turn of events which costs her an arm and a leg (literally). Rescued by an odd hermit (a low-key performance from Jim Carrey), she finds sanctuary in the village of "Comfort," a hippie paradise that inexplicably contains a skateboard park and a Ramen noodle cart (this was produced by VICE after all), led by The Dream (Keanu Reeves), a Messianic figure who is also a dead-ringer for Andy Kaufman's Tony Clifton persona. Arlen decides to take revenge for what she's lost, later leading her to straight up murder the wife of "Miami Man" (Jason Momoa), a musclebound hulk and cannibal leader, whom she later falls in love with as well as assuming the motherly role of his child in a discomforting turn of events.

For her sophomore feature, Ana Lily Amirpour goes headfirst in terms of making something which borrows from a range of influences and feelings to deliver an atmosphere which feels so familiar yet disconnected from what we're used to seeing, even in this subgenre. It can't be said that she goes into the deep end, unfortunately most of the film is resolutely shallow. The Bad Batch becomes a gruelling exercise with long stretches of silence and a kind of incoherence which beckons the viewer to keep going to the end to find some form of deeper meaning. It is a unique experience, clearly, one which few other filmmakers would undertake, especially with its premise and ensemble. Those expecting a minimalist Mad Max are sure to be disappointed, as the characters contained within lack dimension and, in some instances, overall purpose.