Practically unwatchable documentary that best serves to make one appreciate the talent behind "The Celluloid Closet." The narrator/host (Dan Butler) is first seen inserted into a movie still, a device that grows quickly tiresome. Then he talks. And talks. And talks. The stunning amount of narration swamps whatever pleasure one might have in watching the film clips, a few of which would otherwise have merit.
Furthermore, the filmmaker goes to ridiculous lengths to promote his "spot the closet case" premise: Rappaport (also the director and writer of the vastly overrated "Rock Hudson's Home Movies") seems to believe that any display of love or affection between men is "gay."
16 out of 36 found this helpful