The first five minutes of this film had my friend and me squirming in our seats, convinced we were about to see another tired gay comedy with stereotypical characters and an all-too-obvious plot line.
But looking back, I think we were purposely, and perhaps masterfully duped by the director to trigger our own stereotypes and preconceived ideas about what it means to be young, gay and living in New York. He flipped the stereotype switch gently, providing everything from drunk boys in bars, to gratuitous and seemingly premature skin shots. It was a useful tool that invited us to confirm the unspoken notions of our gay identities in order to bring about a more genuine deconstruction.
The art of the film lies not in the acting, which sometimes stumbles; save of course, for Cory Grant who delivers a consistent and unique authenticity. Instead, the film's soul is truly in the scripted storyline and in the very digestible way we are taken on one character's drunken and stumbling path to the first spark of his own electric and glittery evolution.
But looking back, I think we were purposely, and perhaps masterfully duped by the director to trigger our own stereotypes and preconceived ideas about what it means to be young, gay and living in New York. He flipped the stereotype switch gently, providing everything from drunk boys in bars, to gratuitous and seemingly premature skin shots. It was a useful tool that invited us to confirm the unspoken notions of our gay identities in order to bring about a more genuine deconstruction.
The art of the film lies not in the acting, which sometimes stumbles; save of course, for Cory Grant who delivers a consistent and unique authenticity. Instead, the film's soul is truly in the scripted storyline and in the very digestible way we are taken on one character's drunken and stumbling path to the first spark of his own electric and glittery evolution.