“In the event that you find certain sequences or events confusing,” Soderbergh says at the start of the film as he addresses the audience, “please bear in mind this is your fault, not ours. You will need to see the picture again and again until you understand everything.”

I was up for the challenge for unpacking any hidden meaning as soon as the film was introduced as weird. I think I gave up well before the 10-minute mark of the film. Not because there was no inherent meaning in Schizopolis, but I suppose Writer-Director Steven Soderbergh (Ocean’s trilogy) would want us to watch it that way. And it’s a lot less frustrating to watch a film like this when you’re not desperately analyzing why Fletcher Munson (Soderbergh) is making those faces in the mirror, or why there’s a pantless man being chased with a giant net. I got less impatient when I relaxed and let the film take me whichever crazy way it wanted to go.

But even with such an unconventional film like Schizopolis, it is consistent with one thing: it refuses to make it easy for you. Opening and ending credits? Nope, you get a black-shirted man with no pants on, chased by orderlies. Act transition cards? Nah, we’ll use house numbers for all three acts. Smooth, natural transitions? No. Deal with whiplash from the jump cuts. You will be taken wherever Soderbergh wants. Dialogue? The film gives you plenty of dialogue alright. Take your pick from husband and wife (Betsy Brantley) exchanging generic greetings, to nonsensical yet seductive exchanges between lonely housewives and an exterminator who’s more than happy to keep them company (‘Nose army?’ ‘Nomenclature’).

Schizopolis could have been a lot simpler: an overworked husband, an under-appreciated wife, growing apart. But Soderbergh just plain refuses to tell this story in any simple, conventional manner. Showing their detachment is Fletcher and his wife speaking to each other in passive, rehearsed didn’t-bother-to-fill-in-the-blanks dialogue. Even their extramarital affair is with each other (or rather with their doppelgängers, played by the same actors). And insert broadcast news clips, a porn parody side plot, and all other shenanigans in between, with seemingly no regard for sequencing. Seemingly.

I find it interesting that Soderbergh’s film falls under experimental comedy, but it surprisingly has more structure than you’d think. It feels more as if Soderbergh was following a strict template or formula, at least one that I can’t understand, but probably makes perfect sense in his mind. Narrative-wise, we know it follows a three-act structure, consistent (although bizarre) transitions, and a recurring play on communication. It seems that there iss a method to the madness after all.