Remember Keaton in Batman? Sure you do; that pouting mouth, those ridiculous eyebrows, the dull-eyed ebb of all artistic integrity, draining, bitterly slow, as soul is traded for merchandising opportunity. Oh, not that last one? You sure? Then that sounds like a job for Super-Existentialist-Man!

A slow burning adaptation, with moaning teenagers, weird pregnancies, and fellas in caves.