Any examination regarding the gay explosion in cinema during the 1970s might well begin with this picture, though it isn't a movie that exalts in its theme. Mart Crowley's play about a gay birthday party gone sour has been brilliantly visualized by director William Friedkin, though the material is essentially a downer (and dated and sexually timid besides). The ringleader of the "Boys", Michael, also serves as the picture's emotional core: this is a homosexual character who detests himself and loathes the gay lifestyle in general. Even more telling, he is disgusted by his friends and the fact they're not as unhappy as he is. He spends the entire film trying to expose the others for the miserable liars they surely are. Some of them may well be miserable, and they all get to show different sides of themselves, but Michael wants more than surface tears; he wants to tear down walls, to humiliate and annihilate. The film is full of bitchy comedic relief, but it's really a movie about self-hatred. It makes terrific usage out of the one set (Michael's apartment) and features an incredible array of actors. Also, Burt Bacharach's personal arrangement of "The Look Of Love" is memorably utilized. Nevertheless, this is a picture filled with drowning people, and a "friend" who keeps pushing them under. Apart from the snappy, lively opening montage, there's hardly a pleasant moment in it. *** from ****
Review of The Boys in the Band
