Max Train’s eccentric comedy, premiering at the Oldenburg Film Festival, concerns the nihilistic title character’s relentless quest to find his stolen bicycle.

Not since Bicycle Thieves has a film focused so determinedly on the theft of a bike as James, receiving its world premiere at the Oldenburg Film Festival. Which isn’t to suggest Max Train’s eccentric new comedy has much in common with Vittorio De Sica’s 1948 neorealist classic, aside from similarly being shot in black and white. The sort of picture for which the term “quirky” could have been invented, it bears much more similarity to the early works of Jim Jarmusch, especially in its deadpan style. Probably best appreciated at a midnight screening after a few drinks, the Canadian indie is yet another example of the festival discovering a small-scale gem.

James’ life changes when he discovers part of a bicycle’s metal frame in the trash and, after scavenging other pieces, assembles a bike which he uses to get a job as a courier. Everything seems to go fine for him for a while until he delivers a package to a butcher shop. Its exotically named owner, Valentin DeWolfe (James Cowley), is an obsessive collector who immediately recognizes the frame of James’ bike as an extremely rare one created by an Italian designer in the 1940s. After his offer to purchase it for an outlandish price is rebuffed, he hires a pair of petty crooks to steal it. Thus begins James’ journey through the underbelly of Vancouver to retrieve his ride and prevent himself from falling back into a downward spiral.

Despite its flaws, James — the movie, not necessarily the character — proves a low-key, eccentric charmer, at times resembling a vintage silent comedy in its visual humor and central figure who stumbles through life like a modern-day Buster Keaton. And even with its obviously minor budget, the impressionistic debut feature feels extremely polished, with a folk- and blues-infused score (Danny Eberhardt, Sally Jorgensen and Max Train are credited with the music) contributing greatly to its offbeat mood.

The wiry Beatch carries the film ably, finding the dark humor in his protagonist while resisting the urge to play on the audience’s sympathy, and Paulina Munoz delivers a sterling supporting turn as the collector’s sister who finds herself sympathetic to James’ plight.