The Irish Times

The animation, nodding to anime, web cartoons and DIY punk aesthetics, has a rough-hewn, heartfelt charm. Not every joke lands, but the generous, camp sensibility buoys the material.

It acknowledges loss without overshadowing its protagonist, passionately insisting on personhood and dignity even as the heroine’s awareness drifts away.

The gags are plentiful. Old pals are still upright. But the sense of a finger wagging throughout can’t help but temper some of the fun.

Dosa and her editors resist catastrophising, allowing cracking ice, flowing water and silence to shoulder the film’s emotional weight.

At its best, this classy production reminds us why any film by this director deserves to be treated as a major event.

Stripped of the bells, the whistles and the cheering crowds, what remains is impossible to romanticise: an exhausted, tortured animal, a man performing hypermasculinity to the point of self-annihilation, and inexcusable barbarism.

At just 71 minutes, Erupcja is more sketch than statement. But its potent snapshot of roads not taken stays long after the credits have rolled.

Unfortunately, the film takes too long to get to a destination – a festering hive of human corruption – that’s inevitable given the first 20 minutes of boozing, humping and double dealing. The dialogue feels inauthentic. The decadence is forced. Nothing about this is very much fun. Mr Barry Lyndon need not beware.

All solid good fun. All professionally honed. A minor miracle.

For all the unfortunate messiness of the film’s later stages, Tuner, shot energetically by Lowell A Meyer, remains engaging throughout thanks to consistently original performances and notably witty dialogue.