Director Bruce McDonald splits his screen eight ways to Sunday in The Tracey Fragments, a splintered form ostensibly intended to match the psyche of his protagonist.

Director Bruce McDonald deserves high praise for the chance he takes, here, departing from convention by experimenting with split screens for the duration of the claustrophobic psychodrama.

Self-indulgent and relentlessly unpleasant...

i pseytoabagkarntistiki fioritoyra poy kanei ta 77 lepta na moiazoyn 7oro, prospathei me ti dihos oysia haritomenia tis, na desei monologoys se eniaia afigisi, kai mporei na se ksegelasei otan to blepeis, alla ligo an to baleis sti seira tha akoyseis ton

Likely to overwhelm and annoy viewers hoping for Juno Part II, it is nonetheless an audacious and imaginative work that's sure to remain one of the year's best.

It's a story that could have and should have been told in a short film free of McDonald's gimmicks.

The basic power of the plot's rewound revelation isn't there, shrapneled by the form . . . Some films reward multiple viewings, but this film, offering multiple views, falls short of being memorably singular.

Too insubstantial to sustain the stylistic excesses of the multiple split screen approach