MR. WRITE AND MR. RIGHT—Reviews of Blue Tooth Virgin and Mr. Right

Blue Tooth Virgin is one of those films that celebrates dialogue and talking heads in movies. Many people would consider this a reason not to see it. They would be wrong. I first saw Blue Tooth Virgin at the Hollywood Film Festival in 2008 and it’s a delightful gem. The topic may seem too esoteric; it’s about an L.A. screenwriter who gives his latest opus to a friend for feedback and the friend doesn’t like it—hilarity and dramatic conflict ensue. I have a friend who sent me a review that basically stated that if you weren’t in the industry, you probably wouldn’t enjoy it. I said that is like saying you couldn’t enjoy the Three Sisters unless you were Russian. The director (Russell Brown who also wrote) does impressive work in such small locations and the script’s a pip. But it does have one flaw: the author is never clear enough as to whether the writer has actually written something good or not. The screenwriter bristles at his friend’s inability to understand key turning points in his script. The screenwriter then goes to a script consultant who basically gives him the same feedback. So is the writer misunderstood, but more talented than his friend who writes formulaic crap, or is he just a screenwriter who can’t take criticism? The author of the movie seems to want it both ways, which throws everything off balance. But it’s still well worth seeing.

The reviews to Mr. Right suggest it’s about a woman who only dates men who turn out to be gay. It’s not. Not even close. Not even in the same universe. It’s a character study of a group of gay friends and their changing romantic relationships with an occasional scene about the woman friend thrown in at random moments for some unclear reason. The real movie, the gay relationship ensemble dramedy, is perfectly all right (no pun intended), though it takes no chances, has no real edge, and pretty much resembles every other gay (or straight) relationship ensemble dramedy you’ve ever seen before, i.e., you’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll kiss ten bucks goodbye. Written by David Morris (who also directed along with Jacqui Morris), the author’s big targets are modern art, DIY shows and small theater (the last most amusingly and convincingly). The most interesting through line revolves around a rugby player whose little girl keeps sabotaging his attempts to start a new relationship. The least convincing is a DIY producer who finds his own relationship in trouble when the kept boyfriend of a friend comes after him; he actually decides to give up his dream of traveling to be with this shallow, fallow creature.