This movie is quite possibly the worst I've ever seen. What I did appreciate, though, is that it reminds you how, as the audience, we have become used to basic filmmaking techniques. Things like decent sound recording, correct color timing on film, lighting a scene properly, blocking a scene logically, etc. go a long way in allowing the viewer to forget he is watching a movie. In fact most of the schlock that Hollywood produces at least gives us the luxury of judging a movie on the usual major weak points: lack of a logical story, poor writing, believable casting, etc.
We are offered no such luxury with Intimate Deception, though. I haven't seen any of Saunders' other films, but my hope is that he became better after making movies like this one, learning from his mistakes. Not to mention, the writing and/or story in this movie is amazingly bad, and not in a "good way" that would make us love this film on a the usual hipster-approved ironic levels. In the lead role Saunders' onscreen presence leaves a lot to be desired, except for the acute desire that he please get back behind the camera.
I truly believe he could edit this movie down a bit and market it along with a companion guide on filmmaking; it would be a very useful visual representation of what not to do. As for a favorite line, the one about cold milk and handcuffs is good. But my personal fave is where the pretentious art guy character in the gallery asks for a cigarette: "Fag me, Bambi!" ...one can't set out to make a movie this bad, it just happens.
