Eva is a legit actress, who also does debt collecting jobs on the side for her ex-husband, loan shark Al. She doesn't want to go on with collecting, but Al asks her to do one last job, finding a missing $600,000 stolen from him by Flav.
A group of unemployed theater actors survive by working as illegal money collectors. The loan shark they are working for owns an Off-Broadway theater. As he decided to play "American Buffalo" there, a bloody battle for the favorite roles begin.Written by
Soeren Ney <SoerenNey@aol.com>
Even though Ron Perlman is billed on the cover/poster for this film, he is only in two scenes, and only one is a dialogue scene. See more »
[Eva left acting class]
So when are you coming back to class?
It's a shame, little Eva. You're the only one I ever picked to make it. You got fucking talent, you know? You got a fucking gift.
Yeah, well, I got lots of gifts.
Yeah, I know...
[looking at the breakfeast menu]
... I don't know why I bother browsing this fucking thing. I know the fucking thing by heart. I always order the same fucking thing.
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After the credits there's an epilog to be seen. See more »
They say actors will literally 'kill for a role', and in the long forgotten, bizarre NYC set indie flick Frogs For Snakes, that's the very concept. A handful of Bronx lowlifes all directly involved with criminal kingpin Al Santana (Robbie Coltrane, before he went all Hagrid on us), discover he is putting on a play, and promptly begin to literally murder each other for parts. Now, such a premise should provide a downright brilliant film, but sadly that's not the case with this dreary gutterball. The possibilities are just endless, and all these miscreants do is just languish in alleyways, decrepit apartments and dive bars, monologuing about.. nothing much at all. It hurts when you have a cast this good in such fuckery as well. Al's ex wife (Barbara Hershey) works as a debt collector for him, while she pines for her thespian boyfriend (John Leguizamo) who spends the majority of his scenes reciting overblown monologues that have nothing to do with the story, or lack thereof. There's all manner of creeps and hoodlums running about like New York sewer rats, played by an impressive lineup including Harry Hamlin, Lisa Marie, Ian Hart, Clarence Williams III, Nick Chinlund and briefly Ron Perlman, but none of them have much to do and seem to aimlessly shamble through their scenes as if they were never given much of a script. Being the weirdo that I am though, I did get a sick thrill out of hearing potty mouthed Debi Mazar explicitly describe giving a blowjob to Coltrane's character, a mental image I won't soon erase from my head. It's a whole lot of nothing for the most part though, and kinda makes you wonder how the thing ever got green-lit, let alone attracted such talent. If the film itself were a play, it would be run out of town on opening night.
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