Amor à Deriva

Do gay-themed movies get any more self-consciously awful than this garbage?

What the filmmakers didn't realize is that all those trite avant garde movie cliches are bearable only if you have characters that one actually cares about. Otherwise, the constant juxtaposition of old scenes with new ones becomes as obnoxious as the characters and equally hard to love.

As I watched with my friends we tried to amuse ourselves by coming up with more fitting film titles (between snores, of course). I think the one that fits best is "Groundhog Drift."

I gave it a 3 but am wondering if that wasn't too high?

I liked a lot about the movie. It's earnest and well-intentioned. The execution is a bit uneven, and as others have said, some dialog does not ring true.

I was startled when, well into the movie, scenes seemed to repeat. For a moment I wondered if the DVD was stuck. I had no clue previously that I was about to see alternative versions of the storyline. I'm not sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing. Generally, I like to be surprised, but this sudden shift was a little confusing. Again, not entirely a bad thing. I've never read the Dogma manifesto (and this is shot Dogma-style) so I don't know if this movie follows those rules to the letter. However, I think my surprise stemmed from not expecting to see alternate realities depicted realistically (Dogma-ish), if that makes sense.

Overall I think it's worth seeing, if for no other reason than, well, how many gay Dogma movies are there? I think if you approach it as something impressionistic rather than realistic, you'll be more likely to enjoy it.

_Drift_ is an independent movie about a Canadian Asian guy living in L.A. who decides to break up with his boyfriend of 3 years to find his "soul mate." The movie shows 3 possible paths his life could take. I found the first 30 minutes to be reminiscent of film school productions I've seen, with unoriginal dialogue and earnest but amateur performances. I'm glad I stuck with it, though, because the writing and the acting got much better during the 3 different variations of the protagonist's destiny. In the end, the movie rises above its gimmick.

This little scenario scripted by Quentin Lee plays like a merry-go-round. As lovers love, break up, reunite, have misgivings, rekindle, and entertain more regrets, the viewer begins to wonder just what point Lee is trying to make.

A key may be the tentative nature of the title. It's also set in a town where lots of folk are in a state of flux, not really settling down after making a commitment, and forever looking for the "perfect" partner.

The search, however, is as fickle as the atmosphere of the terrain itself, where the consciousness can be a jumble of mixed emotions. Unanchored attitudes prevail, reacting to the mass of humanity crowded into the region, from mid-state down to the southern border.

It's not an ideal place for anyone who isn't strongly grounded in both their self worth and professional projects. The tragedy of this story is that there are no solid anchors, only driftwood floating and bobbing along uneven tides. One day wanting this, tomorrow that.

Unfortunately, Mr. Lee's script rather meanders as well, and allows itself to even take a "Memento"-type turn midway through--with unprepared for flashbacks that have a strange feel.

There's nothing wrong with the acting, though, and the youthful cast renders subtle and heartfelt performances.

Maybe it's because I don't appreciate the joy that drama queens bring to life. Maybe it's because I don't appreciate the angst of living in the life today. Who in the real, work-a-day world speaks like this? If I met such an emotional train-wreck as the lead character, I would sprint at high speed in the other direction. It seemed every time Ryan opened his mouth out spilled a Greek tragedy punctuated by his belabored, self absorbed, oh-woe-is-me breathing. The acting was good, the story line was mediocre. I found myself looking at my watch and checking the box the video came in to see how much longer the pain was to continue. I would have been the guy in the back row of the theater groaning every time one of these poor widdle boys dug himself into a hole and then waxed poetic.

I have this visceral feeling of...oh sorry, it's just indigestion.