This bizarre little film takes the Andrew Cunanan story and turns it into the sort of soft porn film John Waters might make, following the serial killer on his murderous spree right up to Versace's front steps ... and beyond. Yes, it's fictionalised and very twisted. The central character is Henry (Rutherford), who's having problems with his aggressive boyfriend Rock (Powell) as he fantasises about the handsome serial killer (Brumagen) on the loose. As the story progresses, Henry encounters three marauding lesbian manhaters (Zee, Masters and Gnapp), a cleanliness freak (Kohler) and all manner of bizarre partygoers who provide drugs, violence, salvation, sex, whatever.

Unhinged and amateurish, this is like a cheap, homemade TV show with its camp characters, electronic score, surreal sets, a cheesy sense of humour and gallons of excess body fluids. All of the characters are fringe-dwellers, lowlife scum incapable of a coherent thought. The story is pretty chaotic as well, taking long sidetrips into irrelevant subplots and flashbacks. And yet, underneath all the goofiness, there's a real sense of energy and humour here, with some solid laughs and a few razor sharp observations about how we idolise celebrities no matter what they're famous for. In essence this is a satire on the nature of violence, not just in the gay and lesbian community. But it's so eccentric that we pretty much miss the point.

strong adult themes and situations, violence, language, drugs, nudity

5.Apr.01

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