While on the sickbed I watched Bad Boy Bubby. It is a bad movie, a sort of reverse Candide in which a character goes from fantastic deprivation and abuse to, at the end, a life of family and fulfilment. Blew that ending for you there, didn't I? Not sorry at all. The story's wanderings and changes in logic from allegory to outrage to cutesiness to impersonations of Nick Cave fronting a very boring bar band pretty quickly dissipate any power the earlier scenes of misery had and makes Bubby a tool for the director to pick at whatever scab he's interested in picking at, and prior to Bubby's encountering the outside world, that scab is YOU, dear reader: there just isn't much reason for the preliminary torture. Bubby could as well have come from the sky or from a coma.
I saw it without any preconceptions or expectations and looked it up later: it's evident that some of the shots were just inserted to showcase the sound design, and that some of the scenes may have been fragmentary due to the use of multiple photographers. So it's a technical exercise.