OFF-the-wall director Gus Van Sant's film is declared fictional but "loosely" based on the last days of doomed rocker Kurt Cobain.

So why, oh why, does protagonist Blake (Michael Pitt) seem to have such a stark resemblance to the Nirvana frontman, even down to the iconic blond mane, rugged stubble and striped woollen jumper?

I was left wondering whether Van Sant refused to shoulder any responsibility for presenting some sort of truth because it gave him the artistic licence to portray his Cobain-esque character in an unfavourable light.

Rarely lucid, Blake is seen wandering around a dilapidated mansion, clutching a gun with a penchant for wearing women's lingerie.

Sometimes he's seen plodding round nearby woods in a parka coat, muttering and whimpering.

It's never clear whether he's mad or drug induced although the frantic pace at which he attacks a bowl of half cooked macaroni cheese suggests the latter. That's the entire film in a nutshell.

But if you don't think you can take all this fast-paced action, it is punctuated with a handful of surreal house calls, and brief glimpse into the lives of Blake's cohabiting but seemingly oblivious band mates.

And the conclusion is forgone, so there are no surprises there.

However, what I will say is that Van Sant's film is strangely watchable, his long and lingering shots were almost hypnotic and Pitt is excellent although whether or not he's actually portraying Cobain is another matter.

EB