From all the reviews so far, I'm thinking I've stumbled upon a meeting of the Monty Lapica Fan Club.... Meanwhile, there's this film I saw last night with an audience that merely got up and walked out when it finished. And this particular indie theater is the kind of place where audiences easily clap when the credits roll -- unless the film is a dud.
This may not be the worst movie I've seen, but it's no Basketball Diaries. For starters, I commend Lapica for his multiple efforts, but he would have done better to have an actual teenager play the lead. I kept looking at this mid-to-late-20s guy and wondering why he was trying to portray a high school angst-ridden druggie. I don't care how intelligent the character (i.e. Lapine) is, he was just too-- neatly pressed, and too old, to be believed.
The dialog was wooden, the acting either stilted (Lapica and various reprobates) or overblown (Bowen), and the cinematography often washed-out and grainy (and not for effect). I'll give editor Kendall points for good flow and no continuity errors. But he had to work with trailing characters who said their lines and went nowhere -- and a big hole in the form of the pivotal but missing father whose death remained unexplained, and whose memory was as poorly detailed as the home movies that featured him.
There was a homogenized blandness to the proceedings that had me wondering if this project was backed by the Mormons or some other white-bread Christian group.... Despite the profanity, it had a fundamentalist ring to it. As a result, I had to keep focusing my attention consciously instead of being drawn in. The story may be based on actual events, but I had a hard time believing in it because almost everyone was isolated and self-centered. And so I remained unmoved by the plight of a handsome young narcissist who miraculously mends his ways thanks to the homeless black angel "Gabe"(riel), reminiscent of a Bulworth plot device.
All in all, it just goes to show what GQ looks and financial backing will do for a fella (who is this Tommy Bell producer-dude anyway?).... but I'm crashing the party here. Both the film and all the gushing about it smacks of major pretense. In fact, "Self Medicated" almost made me wish I was when I sat through it.
