Hate Crime did have my complete interest and care for its characters and it did make me cry like a small child with a freshly skinned knee. Its status as a direct-to-video production did not exactly maintain that grace. What I described in my first sentence here is a film that satisfied three major and vital departments as an audience. There are much better films that should do such a good job making us care, making us cry, but unfortunately this is not a better film.
One of its major detractions is in the acting. Seth Peterson, who stars, is off the hook with me, because he was very convincing and the only actor in the film that was not so stilted and did not make every line so visibly scripted. Even Lin Saye, whose past credits include the hilariously disgusting landlord in Kingpin and the eavesdropping chain-smoking neighbor in There's Something About Mary, loosens the film's grip on you. This can be bearable until the stomach- churningly misfired dramatic scene between Cindy Pickett and Sean Hennigan, where their painfully insecure deliveries are further crippled by the stale and two-dimensionally written scene.
See, while the movie is very enjoyable, it carries some of the stereotypes of direct-to-video productions. On the bright side, it's one more movie for people to see about homophobia and its often devastating effects, it's one more movie to satisify those who have an appetite for vindication and comeuppance, and it fulfills those three said vital elements of watching a movie.
