One would think that a film about a young person's coming to terms with his burgeoning homosexuality would be anything but boring. Think again. This production should be bottled and sold as a cure for insomnia because it's about ten times as potent as any sleep aid on the market. It's almost as if the film maker *considered* making a movie, but got lazy and decided instead to run a series of random (and randomly BORING) images and go-nowhere scenes, throw in a couple of actual scenes featuring actual acting, pretend that good lighting ins't important in the film-making process, and wrap it up under the auspices of an "arthouse" film. This is exactly kind of crappy product that makes it easy for a lot of traditional film-makers to poo-poo the indie film movement, and which keeps the general public from more easily embracing indie films.

If you're interested in films covering this subject matter, you'd be much better off tuning in to some of the great short films available at Logo's website or renting Get Real. Better yet, read Stone Butch Blues. Whatever you do, skip this long-winded piece of dreck.