In Marc Forby’s hands, Kaiulani’s story amounts to almost nothing, given how one-dimensionally she’s characterized.
The past is a terrible secret that can’t be suppressed in Boy A.
If they taught this film in schools, the class might be dubbed The Art of Boosting the Self and Ragging on Women Through Tired Aesthetics.
Mad TV fans will no what I’m talking about when I say: Viva Dorothy Lanier!
The film is chock-full of randy boozing and comic non sequitors more mystifying than amusing.
The film is a tart, observant look at the seductiveness of revenge and its generally empty aftertaste.