Set amidst the dreary corridors of the Budapest subway system, Kontroll is a visionary dreamscape of contained madness and collective loneliness, an entrancing flight of subtle surrealism that seems to exist in a sort of chronological stasis; we get the impression that the characters have very little, if any concern for the logical progression of time.

A synopsis of the plot would appear as hazy as a dream’s description. There is an intrinsically diverse coterie of ticket inspectors who perambulate the subways in search of ticket offenders. One is a somnolent introvert consistently eluding his past, another a choleric narcoleptic who can’t seem to shake off the frustration that comes with his line of work, and then there’s a hooded serial murderer that prowls in the shadows for his next victim. The plot, or lack thereof, unfolds like a gorgeous oil painting.

Beautifully shot and marvelously portrayed, this is a film that will leave you pining for an immediate second viewing.