Film Student Maya Newell had walked past Richard Blackie’s inner-Sydney toyshop for a decade before she found herself going inside. Blackie, the proprietor of this toy collector’s paradise, was known in the area as an eccentric, and a ‘Peter Pan’ who’d also found brief, minor celebrity in his teens as ‘the boy with Michael Jackson’s face’ in tabloid magazines. Blackie’s shop was a reflection of his life’s work and obsession: collecting pop culture. Newell’s camera squeezes into Blackie’s claustrophobic, cluttered store to record his thoughts, dreams and philosophies. They tumble haphazardly from his mind, informed by long hours alone in the presence only of his beloved puppies.