Right now, the cinetrix doesn't care what you think about Roger Ebert. The man is all right in my book forever after yesterday's deft trashing of a "little" "indie" "movie" called Tru Loved, which I had the grave misfortune of seeing far too much of at a film series selection meeting this past spring.
Oh my God, what a reeking, sanctimonious piece of shit. Ostensibly a pro-gay fable, what I saw of Tru was so poorly done and smug as to be downright irresponsible. I'll happily provide my homophilic bona fides to anyone who questions my cred, but I needn't. It should be enough that I've seen a movie or two. This flick fails as a movie. That said, an out member of the committee also took exception to this stinker, but the well-meaning cinema philistines had the majority and opted to provide a platform for this poorly done, platitude-riddled pic. Grrrr... Just thinking about it makes my blood boil all over again.
[Deep breath.]
Here's just some of what Mr. Your Movie Sucks had to say:
"Tru Loved" as a movie is on about the same level as a not especially good high school play. Student directors could learn from it. I'm sure its heart is in the right place, but it fails at fundamentals we take for granted when we go to the movies. By lacking them, it illustrates what the minimum requirements are for a competent film. Yes, you can clearly see and hear them, especially when they're missing.
1. Line readings. That's what they sound like, readings. Classroom readings. The actors lack the knack of making their dialogue sound spontaneous and realistic. They sound like bright English students who have memorized their lines but find themselves onstage without having had much experience or training.
2. Body language. One of the first things an actor learns is not to gesture as a way of emphasizing lines unless the lines really call for it. Insecure actors often seem to punch up dialogue physically as a sort of insurance policy.
3. Framing. When you have five characters at a picnic table, you don't (necessarily) want to block those on the other side with the bodies of those on this side. There are ways to do that or fudge it. Or forget it. But don't have those on Side A separated so we can see those on Side B centered between persons 1 and 2, and 2 and 3, and then in the reverse shot, separate those on Side B so we can see those on Side A.
Testify! And he hasn't even gotten to the part about Bruce Vilanch yet, whose appearance in the movie caused an audible "You've got to be fucking kidding me!" to escape my lips that grim, grim day.
You can, and should, read the rest of Ebert's dead-on indictment here. Then head over to his blog for a little background. As a tease, I'll tell you only that his post includes the following sentence: "My editor, a wise and expert woman who has saved my ass many times over more than 20 years, was horrified."
