Alejandro Jodorowsky continues the autobiographical saga he began in 2013’s The Dance of Reality, exploring his own life from the time of his family’s move to Santiago, Chile through his early adulthood (played by his own son, Adan Jodorowsky) trying to become a poet among other bohemian artists, and up to his departure for Paris in 1952. There’s a wildly episodic quality to the narrative, despite some vague attempts to connect everything to Alejandro’s contentious relationship with his father (another Jodorowsky son, Brontis), that never quite connects with the sense of regret suggested by Jodorowsky at times appearing as himself to comment on the action. But while he traffics at times in surrealist clichés like little people and garishly colored clowns, the filmmaker’s uniquely weird flourishes always make for fascinating viewing—whether that involves black-clad stagehands occasionally removing props, elderly café servers moving in slow-motion or Jodorowsky’s mother (Pamela Flores) communicating exclusively in operatic recitative. Jodorowsky may romanticize his youthful experience with larger-than-life creative people, but that doesn’t mean he isn't able to turn his nostalgia into a visually arresting experience. By Scott Renshaw