Generally well-made, largely unsatisfying ‘true story’ (and pretty true for a change) about a San Fran based gay activist/writer who reluctantly moves to Olympia, WA with the boyfriend, has a medical crisis, finds God, goes straight. Yet, as played by James Franco, remains closeted, a closeted narcissist. (So, great casting, no?) Living as a ‘throuple’ with Zachary Quinto & Charlie Carver, he converts his personal blog into a magazine for queer youth, but unsettled personal issues, especially with his deceased parents, leave him playing ‘is that all there is’ mental games and seeking spiritual landing with a str8 persona to fit his new idea of himself. If only he could find a Junior Miss to arouse him. Perhaps if this weren’t director Justin Kelly’s debut, he’d have seen how much the film needed the sort of explicit sex long common in European films to make sense of just what sexual conversion does for (or is it 'to') the straight married pastor Franco’s character is willing himself into being. Instead, at film’s end, we’re left thinking what this tortured soul really needs is a living parent to come out to (and be accepted by), a decent psychiatrist and a gay priest.
SCREWY THOUGHT OF THE DAY: Ironically, after a couple of decades of manic over-activity, some sort of sex scandal (heterosexual student/teacher misalliances?) has kept Franco in (self) exile, off the screen for the last five years. He’s due back later this year.
ATTENTION MUST BE PAID: Note how they build up Franco’s near 6' frame with layers of shirts & bulky sweaters when he reboots as a str8 married preacher with confidence pumping wife Emma Roberts. And shooting him to bring out a faint, but noticeable resemblance to Rock Hudson. Too obvious to be inadvertent, it’s the one amusing touch in the whole pic.
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