Credits
D-
In this limp psychological thriller about a Gen-X menage a trois that turns dangerously sour, the ''white trash'' narrator dude and his wealthy, amoral brother and sister spend most of their time lounging around in their undies, ogling one another's perfect bods, popping pills, and mumbling hiply inarticulate dialogue that would make Calvin Klein's copywriters green with envy. In the midst of this fashion-spread languor, a murderous secret is revealed, causing a rift in their relationship and an implausibly turgid denouement. Ben Neihart could even use some pointers from Bret Easton Ellis. D-
Posted Apr 30, 1999
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