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Robbie Samuels is not being clever when he refuses to name his film. Words have a life of their own in this surreal 10 minuter and to risk using them above the credits might be tempting fate.

Jim's life starts to go letter-shaped when he clicks the remote and his television disappears. Instead, there are two alphabetical things suspended in its place - T and V.

In the street, sentences fly past, like banners off the tail of a biplane, and in his favourite jazz record shop the air is thick with the names of albums and musicians.

"I think I'm going crazy," he tells the doctor, whose reply snakes out of his mouth like a tapeword. He stands on the bridge, looking down river, and instead of buildings rising on either side, there is a descriptive view - LONDON SKYLINE.

Jim (Jim Ruaraidh Murray) is in despair ("I want solid objects; I want solid people; I want solid TV") and cannot understand why speech has to be seen as sub-titles, rather than listened to as conversation. He is, literally, trapped in a jungle of words.

The effects are as imaginative as the concept. If language were birds, Samuels suggests, every day is a Hitchcock movie.