My TiVo automatically records shows with Gale Harold in them, and that is the only reason this movie ever even came across my radar. From the moment I started watching it to the blessed moment when the credits finally rolled, I was stunned at the sheer awfulness of this movie. It very obviously tries *so hard* to be deep and meaningful, and falls flat at every turn. The jarring and distracting camera work, "moody" insufficient lighting, and cliché-ridden plot made the film nearly unwatchable. I kept watching only because I thought maybe it would pull together by the end. It never does.<br /><br />What this movie is, is a pile of disjointed plot fragments, inane dialogue, and Dysfunctional Archetype characters, lurching around for an hour and forty-five minutes. Gale, who I think is a very talented actor, was completely unbelievable as a germophobe. I blame this on writing and directing. In some situations he is shown as extreme--using an alcohol wipe to open his own medicine cabinet door, for example--but then the next second he is touching people and objects willy-nilly and not appearing to be bothered at all. It's very inconsistent and completely fails at credibility.<br /><br />The "style" of the movie is to cut away from shots and scenes before the audience can figure out what they are supposed to mean, because that's "deep" and "mysterious" or something. By the end you are supposed to assemble the rubble you've been shown into some sort of cohesive unit, but not only does it not all fit together, but I was left not really caring one way or the other. It was so disjointed that I never came to care about anyone or anything being shown. Too many elements are extraneous and never used--for example the entire storyline (if you can call it that) of the roommate, which neither goes anywhere nor adds anything.<br /><br />I only didn't give it one star because of the existence of "Manos, Hands of Fate" in film history.