Food of Love

I enjoyed this movie to an extent, but I felt that I was cheated at the end. I really did not know why, but after seeing the casts interviews,I understood. All of these actors were British struggling with American accents. I recognized the actress,Juliet Stevenson, who played Pamela, Paul's mother, in some other movie, but I could not place where. She never developed the character as much as I hoped. I finally realized she was in Bend it Like Beckham, in which she was quite good as the mother fearing her teenage daughter's lesbian tendencies.

Kevin Bishop, who also is British, did a better job earlier in the film, when he didn't have to talk much, but he became quite annoying as his character became more self-centered and selfish.

I did enjoy the relationship between Paul and Richard. It was quite believable, and the chemistry between the two was the best part of the film. Unfortunately, it did not last very long. Paul Rhys, who played Richard, was quite good in his portrayal of a gay man, who would use his celebrity status, to lure the innocent and naive young Paul into his web.

My biggest question is, if all of their actors are mostly British, why wouldn't they change the setting of the film from New York/California to something like London? They changed the title of the film from the novella. It would of made the film more enjoyable to watch, with the actors being in their natural surroundings.

Here is a story with obvious first and second acts, but no conclusion. Act I: the development of the relationship between Paul and Richard. Act II: Paul's move to NYC and his disillusionment (he also becomes a jerk). Act III: oh, wait it's not there. Right when the story begins to reach a climax, it ends. No resolution of any plot threads. A disappointment in an otherwise adequate feature.

Unlike the previous reviewer, I thought Juliet Stevenson and Paul Bishop did a great job with their American accents. I was surprised, since I knew Ms Stevenson was British -- I thought for a while that I was mistaken in that.

The sad thing is that none of the characters really learned anything about themselves. They simply learned that people lie and life sucks. I guess that's how life really goes, but I don't watch movies to see real life. Movies should transcend real life. There's not much to take away from the story without the glaringly missing third act.

I wanted so much to like this film, and I tried very hard to do so. But it is so inept, and has so many flaws, it is hard to know where to begin.

The basic story is simple enough: piano student Paul is seduced by and falls in love with his idol, fortyish concert pianist Richard; he gets dumped inexplicably and spends the rest of the film trying to make sense of it. But add these extra ingredients -- Paul's neurotic mother also falling for the pianist, Richard's lover/manager seducing Paul while the boy is being kept by yet another older man -- and you have a rather heady Freudian stew, indeed.

What these noxious, self-absorbed characters have in common, keeping the handsome 18-year-old confused and depressed, is their duplicity. Nobody tells Paul the truth, rendering him unable to make a decision in his own interest. His beauty makes him desirable. His ingenuous nature makes him an easy mark.

The dialogue is oddly disjointed though lifted directly from David Leavitt's well-written novel, The Page Turner. For some reason, about half of Mr. Leavitt's lines have been deleted, making those that remain a crazy-quilt of non-sequiturs. Adding to the confusion are British actors playing American refracted through the eyes and ears of a Spanish director. Then there are the Spanish actors who have learned their lines phonetically, wildly inflecting words incorrectly. Finally, a classical music consultant could have insured the proper pronunciation of composers' names, or pointed out that most of the pieces Paul plays are embarrassingly inappropriate.

What the film does do well is to depict the haute-gay classical music demi-monde of New York, and the predatory older men who rule from lofty Central Park West enclaves. This exclusive oligarchy devours the seemingly unlimited supply of hopeful young artists, like Paul, who want to succeed but cannot due to inexperience and inaptitude for the game. A 'civilized' veneer covers, but never quite hides, the self-serving artistic Darwinism.

Exquisite Kevin Bishop, who plays Paul so perfectly, is a real find. He has a low-key style, lovely body, and astonishing blue eyes. Barcelona is exotic, the photography is beautiful, and the original score is well done, but the DVD itself has problems. The dialogue is somewhat out of sync, is overly loud in some places (mainly due to Juliet Stevenson's histrionics), and nearly inaudible in others.

Like so many movies, the trailer made this look much better than it was. It's a real dud, starting with a weak and unfocused script. Someone should have decided up front whether they were making a soap opera, a French farce or soft-core porn.

The acting is largely amateurish. Kevin Bishop is relentlessly bland and evokes no sympathy. Even his butt gets boring before long. Paul Rhys has a few good moments, but his make-up distracted me from them. Even the usually sublime Juliet Stevenson can't pull this off.

I'll see pretty much any gay-themed movie that comes out. If you do too, go ahead and see it. But don't expect much.

Maybe it's because this Spanish director never did an English-language movie before, or maybe it's just a superficial screenplay that does this film in--no matter, it just doesn't work. Kevin Bishop (Paul) has the great looks and body to become a successful actor, but his acting in this movie is often wooden, and his manner later in the film is very unappealing, not a likeable hero at all, who sleeps around evidently to improve his lot in life. His mother, Juliet Stevenson (again maybe because of the poor direction) is annoying...we have little sympathy for her either. Paul Rhys and Allan Corduner are quite good in their roles. But the film just bogs down, changing its focus from Paul to his mother in mid-stream, and therefore the film changes from the coming-out strains of the hero to the angst of the mother who has to handle her son's sexual identity. We lose our interest in Paul because of this unwise change of focus in the story.