User reviews

`Food Of Love' marks the debut of Ventura Pons first English language film and is based on the novel, `The Page Turner' by David Leavitt. As the film began I thought to myself, `This is going to be one of the best gay films I've seen in recent memory', and although I really enjoyed it, what began as a really good coming of age love story, midway through it took a completely different direction and became an after school special, centered around a mother dealing with her son's homosexuality. Having not read the book I can't say how it compares, but as a movie, it left me hungry for more. All the performances are great although the mother (Juliet Stevenson) at times seemed too over the top and almost cartoonish. Kevin Bishop who plays Paul, is a cute, blue-eyed, blonde that showed a wide range of emotions throughout the film, from his first sexual encounter, to his disappointments with school, and frustrations with his mom, and so forth. Paul Rhys also gives a wonderful performance and appears sensitive, intimate and charming towards towards the boy and his mom.

It begins in San Francisco as 18 year old Paul Portfield (Kevin Bishop), an aspiring piano player and soon to be Juliard student, gets a job as a page turner for his idol Richard Kennington (Paul Rhys), a renowned concert pianist. During the concert as Paul reaches to turn the pages as Richard plays feverishly, you get the beginning glimpses of the sexual sparks between them. After the concert, Richard invites Paul out for a drink only to be interrupted and taken home by his overprotective and at times manic mother (Juliet Stevenson).

After finding out his dad has left his mother for another woman, Paul and his mom venture off to Spain on vacation. While wandering the streets Paul spots a concert poster featuring Richard and he sets out to find him. Paul tracks him down and drops by his hotel room where he's soon seduced by the pianist in an intimate and gentle way. Paul becomes totally infatuated with Richard and after a week long fling Paul and his mom are off to Granada while Richard, unbeknownst to Paul, returns home to New York and his manager/lover Joseph Mansourian (Allan Corduner). Months go by and Paul is now attending Juliard, seeing an older man, and trying to get over Richard. It's a rollercoaster of a ride especially when a classmate of Paul's gets signed by Mansourian while Mansourian wants Paul to be a page turner yet again at a dinner party. In the midst off all this Paul's mom is trying to cope with divorce and, after finding a porn magazine in Paul's suitcase, her son's homosexuality. This is where the story takes a turn that was not completely satisfying. The mother attends a `mom's with gay sons' meeting and it just seemed totally misplaced and campy. Also, while attending school Paul seems to always be in the company of older men. I considered maybe that was his way of looking to a father figure or something but why wasn't he going out with guys his own age? His roommate looked cute enough. Also the portrayal of the older guys seemed to suggest they preyed on younger men. Those are just a couple of the issues I had with the story and I was a bit disappointed that it didn't stay focused on his relationship with Richard.

Events unfold and secrets are revealed, but many questions are still left unanswered at the end. Overall I would recommend it but still wish the story had centered more around Paul and his relationships than that of his mother and her issues. I'd love to see a sequel that's for sure! The acting is fine and the locales and direction I thought were great. There are a number of scenes with brief nudity and homoerotic touches that give this picture an `R' rating. The picture quality of the DVD is crisp and clear and so is the audio. It also features extras that include interviews with the cast members, the director Ventura Pons and even David Leavitt, author of the novel. Numerous trailers of other features from TLA Releasing as well.

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 just saw this movie at the San Francisco International Lesbian & Gay Film Festival. It was a sold out screening and the director was present. While the performances were good (though sometimes overboard) and the production qualities were excellent (the style reminded me of Whit Stillman which was odd since some of this movie was shot in Barcelona and Stillman made a movie called "Barcelona"), this film was hampered by a terrible script. The first few scenes establishing the characters were passable but about 15 minutes into the movie, when Paul and Richard meet again in Richard's hotel room and Richard gives Paul a "massage", the dialogue started turning laughable. For the rest of the film, the audience was in a uproar, laughing during serious and sometimes sexual moments. In the end, the movie was fairly enjoyable as in "I don't believe what I'm seeing or hearing". That was too bad since the story itself is a compelling one.

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.

A piano student (Kevin Bishop) meets his idol, a successful concert pianist (Paul Rhys). Rhys seduces him and they begin sleeping together. The student is falling in love...but with the wrong guy.

A not too bad story. Bishop is a very attractive young actor. He's very good in some scenes and has a couple of very nice nude scenes. Rhys is is also good. But this movie does have problems.

Juliet Stevenson plays Kevin's mother and she's WAY over the top. She plays every single scene in a wide-eyed hysterical manner. Sometimes it fits--other times it really annoying (and laughable). She has a fairly large role in the film and unfortunately drags it down.

Also, the story is very sketchy about Kevin and his attraction to men. He is gay but you're never quite sure why he's with certain guys. Also there's a very unpleasant scene between him and an older gay man.

Still, it's well-done on a very low budget, has beautiful music, some good acting and is reasonably interesting. A little sad also but truthful. Worth catching.

Here is the most apt example I've seen lately in which everything is just a bit off the mark. Although I'm not familiar with Leavitt's novel, I have read other pieces of his work and find it equally uneven. For example, his central theme here of music being the "food of love" (one of Shakepeare's most quoted lines) just never reaches a level of complete fulfillment within the context of this often pretentious and sappy melodrama. Although the original title ("The Page Turner") implies a subtle judgment that the main character is doomed to eternal mediocrity, and opening scenes of the film confirm that hint, "Paul" is nevertheless forced upon the audience as a worthy protagonist whose professional and personal fate is vitally important. That kind of maybe-he-is and maybe-he-isn't paradigm is plain confusing, and it shows. Plot weaknesses are also apparent throughout. Similarly, the very high production values of the movie are constantly being undercut by laughable presumptions that an American audience could ever accept British actors straining to sound correct in their roles within an obviously European setting being palmed off (sorry) as California. Or am I being too picky? Geraldine McEwan as a Czech (?) piano teacher sounds exactly like Robin Williams playing Mrs. Doubtfire. And Juliet Stevenson comes across as a sort of über-California caricature. Moreover, the background scenes of New York are clearly scissors-and-paste.

Be that as it may, I give this one a 7 out of 10 for showing Barcelona as not only a fascinating place, but also as an excellent locale for making a movie.

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.

Forgive me, but I'm a retired proofreader, and Juilliard is almost never spelled correctly except by people directly connected with the school.

More to the point, I quite liked the film. Everything worked for me -- acting, direction, story, production. Not that I thought it a great film -- I did think there could have been more attention paid to motivation in several instances, such as Kennington's not answering Mansourian's many messages, Paul's involvement with Alden, and Paul's leaving Juilliard. Not to mention how Paul went from being good enough to get into the highly competitive Juilliard to not being good enough for a career as a musician in just a few years. Another 20 minutes could have fleshed out many aspects of the sometimes sketchy narrative.

While the wide range of opinion expressed by others above is not unusual in film commentary, the diametrically opposed views on so many points is fascinating to me. Perhaps hot-button subjects such as homosexuality, abortion, etc. inspire hyper-sensitive, if not hyper-critical responses -- pro and con.

What concerns me is how little or how narrowly most of the commentators -- gay as well as straight -- seem to understand the uniqueness of everyone's gayness, everyone's coming-of-age, everyone's taste and attractions. Of course, the same is no doubt true of heterosexuals.

For many, experimenting and/or interacting with peers is the "right" or "best" way to come to terms with one's sexuality. For others, far older or younger people are more appropriate partners, whether for short-term liaisons or for longer relationships. While some of this no doubt derives from our individual (sometimes twisted) psychological underpinnings, I'm convinced that such variations often are merely part of the great breadth of human nature.

Regardless of gender, many older people do gravitate to the younger for intimacy, but it's also true that many younger people gravitate to the older. Of course, some are manipulative, even predatory, but by no means is it always the older taking advantage of the younger. Regrettably, I think only one of the commentators above noted that Paul was using the older men, just as they were using him. Often, such "unequal" relationships are mutually beneficial.

Speaking of my own non-sexual experience, as a child and well into adolescence, I felt (and others observed) that I related more comfortably with adults than with my peers. In adulthood, it's been just the opposite -- I've been more comfortable with people 10, then 20, now 30 years and more younger. The only period when I was in-sync with my peers was my college years and shortly thereafter.

Frankly, my development as a gay person might have been much less difficult had someone 25 or 35 or 45 initiated an intimate relationship (sexual or not) with me in my adolescence. My few halting attempts to find intimacy with adult men were met with abject terror of even being suspected of pedophilia. Left to my own devices, I didn't really figure it out until I was about 30. Not that I ever thought I was, or tried to be, straight; I simply didn't have a sexual or emotional life. It's been rich and rewarding since, but I can't help wondering how much I might have missed. But enough about me.

It strikes me as troubling that so many, perhaps most people lack the certain instinctual knowledge that everyone's experience, everyone's psyche, is different. They may know it intellectually, but not viscerally. And so they can't help judging other people, as well as art and literature, as if everyone's life experience were much the same.

We're all entitled to our own thoughts, reactions, opinions. But to judge the characters, situations, motivations in a piece of fiction as unrealistic because they don't match one's own life experience is simply off the mark. Virtually everything in the novel as well as the film is familiar to me, so I guess that mean's it's realistic...no?

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.

If the story had been pared down to an examination of the central two characters, rather than lavished with grotesque, utterly implausible and terribly acted caricatures, then this film might have had some potential for being saved from itself. As it stands it has little.

There is no great skill to being catty and negative, but seeing as Food of Love is, by its shoddiness and carelessness an open invitation to cattiness and negativity...

Where to begin? Here are some criticisms: Amateurish, peculiarly dull, predictable, plodding, fraudulent, first-draft dialogue unshorn of the clichés by which any self respecting writer would be haunted, insensitive, prosaic, pedestrian and irritating. Acres of text could be written, if I had a little more energy, about the individual flaws (How about the accent of the piano teacher -- teetering on the brink of being new york Jewish in her first scene, definitely wispy and elderly Scots at the beginning of her second before being revealed, we assume when we learn her name, to be Russian, is used to deliver the sort of lines a piano teacher really *would* never say, reminding her student, for instance: "it's called the Well-tempered clavier not the ill-tempered clavier." The fact that such a dreadfully banal witticism was found funny enough, or perhaps enlightening enough to be included speaks volumes. Clearly no one with any serious interest in or knowledge of music could be bothered to turn up on the day that scene was filmed to ensure that they didn't put the first prelude from the 48 -- something a beginner might play, in the fingers of someone who is supposed to be a music student), with perhaps a few lines to note the strengths.

The idea that a young sensitive gay pianist might be happy in the sexual or romantic clutches of leering, ugly, bald, rich, smug men who seem all to be in their fifties is to stretch the idea of a young man's rebellion far past its natural limit.

No, I can't go on. I'm too furious that I paid money for it, on the recommendation of The Times, of all things, and must go and lie down; but before I do I will say this. Is this really what passes for an American art-house film? God help us all.

I really liked the development of the characters of Paul and Richard and the true to life nature of the plot. It seems that the story is one that is easy to relate to on at least some level for many viewers, although not too ingenious, it makes for a good film.

One problem I had with this movie was in the later half. The plot just kinda fizzled and didn't really have any place to go. I was expecting a complete resolution and didn't get it.

I just got done watching this film. Overall the production values were really good. The script went from absolutely perfect to a complete disaster every 5 min. It seems the writer has absolutely no talent when it comes to setting up a sex scene. But perhaps that is how most homosexuals talk in real life. But even so I wouldn't imagine using some of those lines, and I am a homosexual. It really is a shame, the rest of the script was wonderful and very moving. And very realistic.... they portray the pain and confusion that is associated with a homosexual lifestyle perfectly.

The cast does a good job for the most part, with the exception of Juliet Stevenson. She is flawless in this film! She really did deserve an Oscar nomination for this role. Her performance alone is a reason to watch this film. It is just a shame that that is the only reason to watch this film.

I guess I was fooled by the classical music setting into thinking this would be a `sensitive' or `classy' portrayal of a young gay artist's coming of age. But I realized halfway into the first ham-handed seduction scene (`Hello, nice to see you again.what's your name? Would you like a backrub?') that it was just another case of prostituting the `gay theme' with a half-baked story that meshes the worst aspects of porn and soap opera without offering any payback in sentiment or even titillation.and then throws in a gratuitous round of `bash on the clueless mother'. I generally love m/m romance and drama and I forgive a lot of weakness in terms of plot and character development, but this was so badly drawn on so many levels, from the incongruous actions of the characters to the unimaginative and obvious plot mechanisms. Maybe it's because I watched this back-to-back with Roger Dodger, an excellent film that leaves you sympathetic with an extreme jerk because his character is so brilliantly defined. In contrast, Food of Love left me annoyed and unsympathetic with every single character by the end, even the tender, confused young protagonist, who I really wanted to like. What is the denouement supposed to mean? Talented young pianist quits Julliard because he can't stand being ignored? Mother and son come to a mutual understanding that life goes on, even after your ideals are shattered? Love and enchantment are fleeting things, so take it one day at a time and always wear a condom? These are far too prosaic outcomes to be arrived at in such a heavy-handed sequence of contrived scenes played by characters so devoid of either depth or charm. Richard the pianist was a despicable ogre-okay, he seduces a barely-legal young man who worships him, I could deal with that. Then drops him like a hot coal. No, sorry, that's where he lost me. But what really sends this guy to Hell in a handbasket is how he ignores his life partner, who tries for days, in great personal distress, to reach him while he is pursuing his affair with Paul. Not that I liked Richard's letchy old man much. And the way the two of them turned against Paul in the end to save themselves from a little honesty in their own relationship was disgusting. Obviously the scenes of Richard ignoring his lover's frantic messages were mindfully included to make us realize that Richard was a self-absorbed jerk and Paul's obsession with him was setting Paul up for a big fall. But why? Was the point to set the artistic aspirations of the young man against the gauntlet of sexual awakening and see if the art survives? I guess I was EXTREMELY disappointed that Paul's art did not survive the challenge, and I was left wondering who he really was and why I should care. I know that's probably the point of the movie-that's what he was struggling with too, but the movie never answered the question, as phrased by his mother, of whether that awful Richard Kensington had something to do with his desire to quit. It is said that good dramatic action is like a roller coaster-ups and downs-but for Paul and his mom it's all downs. Jeez, this filmmaker could have done anything he wanted here, so why not open up some kind of window for young Paul at the end? Okay, Ventura, naturalism is all well and good, but the audience WANTS the protagonist to be exceptional-if you set him up as an aspiring pianist and then you take that away, then give us something else. And the mother was so stupid and hysterical it was an outright insult to all women. Her attempted seduction of Richard was unbearable, as was the support group. Wake up, Ventura-women, even mothers, are now aware of gays and likely to recognize them well before the point of becoming the laughing stock of a humiliating party scene. Just a depressing outing all around.

I think that the mother in the movie is the best, her performance is excellent. The typical housewife, sensitive, caring, nervous, and sad, sort of like the typical soccer mom. and she is not even a US actress.

After the movie, I watched the extra material on the DVD, it seems that all those actors were from British. I have seen the young guy from that movie called Spanish apartment. he was hilarious in that movie with his British accent. And i was surprised that he speaks perfectly American English in this movie. however, i am not sure if that is his real voice. sometimes, i have the sound and the mouth don't match.

He always look sad in the movie, don't know why. which is so different from the happy character in the movie Spanish apartment. I think that his performance was solid. hopefully, we can see more of him in the future.

as for the pianist, he looks just too feminine gay, I think that it is a little too much.

If you have never seen any Ventura Pons's films, this is just the chance to. Personally, I think this is one of his best movies ever and the cast is simply excellent. It is not a film about homosexuality and I particularly like the way in which the young leading role (Kevin Bishop performing) "lives" his sexual orientation. He just lets it go, with no feeling of blame. Nevertheless, it's the relationship between mother & son that makes the film worthy. The mother (outstanding Juliet Stevenson) gives the down-to-earth counterpart to his son's love story, although she spends most of the time living in the Disney-like life that she herself has created to respond to her failed marriage. Ventura's look upon family matters is a peculiar one, since he rebuilds the relationship between mother & son through the collapse of the son's story with the pianist. I very much appreciated how Paul (the boy) wakes to love and lives it as a young person; he's full of contradictions and keeps being angry with anything or anyone pretending to be "his conscience". In a way, I think he rebels against it; he doesn't want to have "conscience", he just wants to live what he feels and as he feels. I strongly recommend this film to those who like true stories on the screen.

This is an adaptation of David Leavitt's ' The Page Turner ', a novel which should have landed in better hands. I am not saying it is a bad film, but neither is it the good film it could have been. Italy has been substituted by Spain, and in a painting by numbers way we see some of the best of Barcelona. Those scenes were worthy of Jean Negulesco and at one point ' Three Coins in the Fountain ' is mentioned. Perhaps this was a sigh of regret concerning the loss of Italy. This is a ' Gay ' film and very self-conscious of the fact, and sadly it shows. Apart from Juliet Stevenson who gives a perfect performance the rest of the acting cast did not. Kevin Bishop does his best as the youth who is the focus of wealthy, influential men and at times he emotionally convinces, but his detachment from the sexual scenes ( mild though they are ) is painful to watch. I will give no spoilers about the plot, only to say that the well-off can be as unhappy as the poor, but as a wit said it is better to be unhappy with money. Ambition and power is shown at its most pathetically corrupt, and that the world of the arts is no better than that of any other less glamorous business. Sexuality is up for grabs and in the scene with a male prostitute that point strikes home with brutal reality. Perhaps David Leavitt would not have approved, but if he was still alive at the time of the film's making Rainer Werner Fassbinder could have done a tremendous job at dissecting this particular ship of fools.

The first part of this movie was the best part. If only the director/writer had stayed in Spain and changed the course of the plot entirely, then this could have been a charming movie. But the central character, a young gay aspiring concert pianist kept showing more and more character flaws as the plot thickened. Typically, a writer shows a positive evolution of a central character towards a more enlightened person. In this instance, we got the reverse. Some of the stuff the teen screamed to his mother was just pure evil and totally inexcusable. I am 60 and gay, and my friend is 70 and gay....we watched in horror during these scenes. The actress playing the mother and the British actor playing the concert pianist were good. The production values were good, but none of that could rescue the horrible script.

I was rooting for this film, but ultimately found it cynical and rather unpleasant - this may be more of a reflection of the difficulty in adapting a full-length novel to the screen (even Kurosawa occasionally stumbled on this front) than anything else.

In ways FOOD OF LOVE manages to approach a certain realism - characters are lovestruck (or sexstruck) at the most inopportune of moments, and accordingly don't behave logically, and the cynicism and opportunism of all definitely reflects the real world (and certain segments of gay culture), though the film's handling of this is quite clumsy. I would confess a certain bias going in - I've never been a fan of David Leavitt's fiction, finding it stuffy and insular, offering only the narrowest and most unimaginatively upscale and well-scrubbed vision of the gay world, and in this FOOD OF LOVE succeeds, but only in producing a soulless, good-looking film that offers nothing of substance.

Not nearly as bad as certain dreadful gay dramas (THE FLUFFER, CIRCUIT), but nowhere near the heights hit by BEAUTIFUL THING, WILD REEDS, or EAST PALACE WEST PALACE - FOOD OF LOVE was quite a disappointment.

"Paul" (Kevin Bishop) is an impressionable young pianist who is delighted to be asked to turn the pages for the acclaimed "Richard" (Paul Rhys). That's that! Well, no - not quite. "Paul" is travelling with his mother "Pamela" (Juliet Stevenson) and when they arrive in Barcelona he realises that he has just missed the latest concert from his idol, but finds his hotel and goes to visit. A drink leads to a back rub leads to some over-large boxers and... Talk about love at first sight? Well that's a non-starter and so he gets back to study at Juliart in New York where he studies piano whilst sleeping with as many wealthy old men as he can - usually in the same building. Coincidence! More to come as one of his partners knows another who happens to be the manager/boyfriend of "Richard". Small world? Smaller when mum goes through his suitcase and finds a porno magazine and a photo she thinks is incriminating. That's when all hell is let loose with enough home truths to sink a battleship. There are times when this is quite touching, and Bishop does put some effort into his performance, but Stevenson (and her accent) are dreadful, Rhys is little better and by the conclusion I had really lost interest in this shallow character study of hormones and tantrums that really does fall off the cliff in the last half hour. On the plus side, there's some nice Mahler and photography of the stunning Gaudi architecture.

This film had so much potential, but many things were just off. Most grating to an American were the accents, of which Stevenson's was the worst. Bishop's accent is a wooden attempt at the Midwest, especially Ohio. Stevenson's was an attempt at Los Angeles, with some Brooklyn thrown in. Most of the scenes are set in America, but it's clear they were not filmed there. Everything, right down to the Christmas tree, the kitchen appliances (small European refrigerators!), telephones from the 1970s, the Spanish-looking New York apartments, is from a different continent. Even Bishop's wardrobe reflects a misunderstanding of American culture. Are we to believe that this young, gay pianist who grew up in Boston and San Francisco dresses like a frat boy from Georgia in 1987? This director learned everything about America from old movies, and had no concern for accurately depicting a culture. How can any of his films, set in America or elsewhere, ring true without an eye for details? Actually, this "American" film directed by a Spaniard was an education of sorts. I came away appreciating how distracting it must be for British film goers, for example, to see American actors ham-hand their accents. With the film industry so dominated by Hollywood, I have gotten a taste of what a mess American actors and filmmakers often make of non-American subjects.