In the still of the deep night, only the garbage helicopter buzzes slowly from gate to gate, piloted by an anarchist poet from the future, serving a life sentence of collecting the slops of our imagination. That surreal image invented by the Swedish poet Gunnar Ekelöf opens a film about a no less idiosyncratic journey. An elderly Roma woman yearns for her wall clock, which has been in the repair shop for a year. So she calls her granddaughter to pick it up and bring it. Shortly thereafter, a Saab takes to the road, carrying the clock, three people – including one obsessed with crossword puzzles, a giant roll of bubble wrap and a device for detecting speed traps. The film’s unmoving, black-and-white cinematography captures moments in an almost never-ending trip that takes the audience into the bizarre centre of Swedish society and, along the way, subtly exposes a few things about the way it deals with minorities.