Pooltime

I try to find one redeeming quality in every film: Here it is the sound and picture quality, which aren't too bad for an indy film. The rest of it, however - acting, directing, script, music - are just about the worst stuff I've ever seen in all my Flixing years. I'd rather sit poolside and watch bugs drown than sit through this inane drivel. I'd suffocate on the smell of chlorine than listen to the idiotic dialogue delivered by characters who run the emotional gamut from A to B. The principal 'boys' in this film aren't too hard on the eyes, but they aren't boys anymore either (which makes their idle poolside chatter even more annoying). Inexplicable appearances by random women - one with a geographically untraceable accent - are absurd. The 100 year old Carla Laemmle is shoe-horned in to the plot and forced to speak in vague gardening metaphors I think neither she nor the foreign women understood. The film's ending - including a laughable montage and an appearance by a long-awaited Pizza Boy (!) - are almost too much too bear. I'm shocked I made it that far. I kept asking "how much worse can it get?" But yet the film managed to constantly exceed my wildest nightmares of banality.