Since premiering on the festival circuit in 2002, this small masterpiece has been one of the best films around not to secure a proper theatrical release, and while one week on a single L.A. screen at the height of the crowded holiday season may not exactly qualify as proper, it's nevertheless a joyous happening.

This is a droll, laid-back film noir steeped in Crescent City atmosphere and music that culminates in the colliding worlds of genuine and virtual reality.

Isn't for everyone. It seems certain to confound as many viewers as it will inspire. But pic will foster a core critical contingent that will find itself transfixed and, ultimately, deeply moved by the film's ravishing power.

When Amelia takes the full multimedia plunge in the movie's final moments, Happy becomes something inexplicably (and metaphysically) beautiful.

Beautifully acted and filmed, with the Internet imagery rendered in Pixelvision.

It's perhaps most remarkable as a sweet, mysterious portrait of pre-flood New Orleans, which Almereyda not incorrectly portrays as a land of wandering, uncertain souls.

The soundtrack includes great songs by Andre Williams and Shirley Ellis, and music by local R'n'B legend Ernie K-Doe and electronic organ freakazoid Quintron, who both appear in the film.

Like some other contemporary films that try to stitch together a small army of characters into a community of sorts, Happy Here and Now feels like a symptom in search of a cure.

Rarely interesting, always confounding.

A few relevant themes do bubble up from this visually intriguing swamp of self-indulgence, but Arquette's pseudo-philosopher seems to speak for Almereyda when he says, "If there was a point, there wouldn't be a story."