April's Shower
reviewed by Sam Osborn
rating: .5 out of 4
Working as the Director, Writer, and Lead Actress, the failure of April's Shower weighs primarily on Trish Doolan's shoulders. This is a miserable film from start to finish; melodrama not worthy of even daytime cable television. And in the midst of such subtle, humanistic portrayals of homosexuality (Brokeback Mountain, Walk on Water, De-Lovely, Capote, etc.), April's Shower stands as a bluntly annoying exercise in morality.
As its title suggests, Doolan's creation documents the outlandish happenings at April's (Maria Cina) wedding shower. It opens tamely enough; with Alex (Trish Doolan) scrambling to finish the myriad of dishes she's cooked for April's party, guests slowly trickling in one by one. Each of these guests has only one agenda and they each spout this agenda over and over and over again in some strange and grating attempt at repetition humor. For instance, one woman has lost her baby and is trying for another. She wanders around bemoaning her inability to become impregnated, yelping in tears whenever somebody mentions a child. Another is a psychotherapist who constantly dishes out unintentionally funny "therapeutic" advice, handing out her business card with every turn of a character's frown. None of these characters have depth past this one dimension. When they all gather around later, in Doolan's attempt mimic the great back-and-forth girl talk of, say, Sex and the City, each character seems to be talking to herself, repeatedly offering the same advice or lamenting the same loss. This is one dimensional writing at its worst.
As the party continues on and April strides in feigning surprise (she knew of the party in secret beforehand), it's soon revealed that April and Alex were once passionate lovers. Here we're presented with Doolan's rendition of tension between homosexuals and heterosexuals. Her strokes are broad and blatantly without passion. It's as though she has no interest in delving into these problems, but simply labeling them and denouncing them as a whole. In one instance, April's mother is shocked to find her daughter once was a lesbian and prays to an alter and a muttered Saint. Later we find her having a heart-to-heart with another mom and soon April and her mother are reconciled and she accepts her daughter's homosexuality. There are good intentions here, sure; but no sentiment or enthusiasm. The small zest Doolan does contain she throws into the bouncy, sitcom-esquire score that flips about all the scenes posing as comedic.
In fact, the comedy is sometimes the most maddening aspect of April's Shower. Doolan refuses to allow her audience to be absorbed within her drama; instead hesitating and falling back to half-hearted comedy at every drop of a tear. Her humor is assuredly unfunny and detracts from whatever fragment of heartfelt drama she might have mustered. In some cases, her humor even undermines the morals she's forcing into view. One young girl begins asking each of the guests if they've ever kissed another female. Eventually, when one character takes the cue and leans in to kiss her, the young girl's closet-opening moment is made into a gaudy bit of weary satire. One scene later, we're back to solemnly discussing the tension of hiding the characters' homosexuality.
It's frustrating to see such a screwball mess result from a justly capable premise. Where Doolan's characters and story threads could be thoughtfully interwoven, they're instead pieced together with desperate, clumsy hands that would rather reach to the moon for a laugh than take a glance at the real world and find honest drama. Where good intentions and smart messages should be injected with subtle grace among the narrative, they're made centerpiece, forcing unearned melodrama out of what could have been quietly forceful developments.
I wanted to like April's Shower. I hoped for it to work as a superbly modern entry into the recent wave of gay/lesbian film. But even when the production values reached skywards with smooth and richly colorful camera work, April's Shower still broke down quicker than a rusty lawnmower. Its fault is in its creator. Trish Doolan's film shows that her understanding of film's elementary elements falls frightfully below rudimentary. Her intentions and ideals are good and fine, but her execution on them is dirt poor at best. All the characters scream and guffaw and squirt tears, but forget their duty is to spark these same reactions from the audience. We're left bored and weary from the crying shoulders and clunky messages, checking our watches at the end of each scene, wondering when the teary mess of April's Shower will finally be done with.
reviewed by Sam Osborn
rating: .5 out of 4
Working as the Director, Writer, and Lead Actress, the failure of April's Shower weighs primarily on Trish Doolan's shoulders. This is a miserable film from start to finish; melodrama not worthy of even daytime cable television. And in the midst of such subtle, humanistic portrayals of homosexuality (Brokeback Mountain, Walk on Water, De-Lovely, Capote, etc.), April's Shower stands as a bluntly annoying exercise in morality.
As its title suggests, Doolan's creation documents the outlandish happenings at April's (Maria Cina) wedding shower. It opens tamely enough; with Alex (Trish Doolan) scrambling to finish the myriad of dishes she's cooked for April's party, guests slowly trickling in one by one. Each of these guests has only one agenda and they each spout this agenda over and over and over again in some strange and grating attempt at repetition humor. For instance, one woman has lost her baby and is trying for another. She wanders around bemoaning her inability to become impregnated, yelping in tears whenever somebody mentions a child. Another is a psychotherapist who constantly dishes out unintentionally funny "therapeutic" advice, handing out her business card with every turn of a character's frown. None of these characters have depth past this one dimension. When they all gather around later, in Doolan's attempt mimic the great back-and-forth girl talk of, say, Sex and the City, each character seems to be talking to herself, repeatedly offering the same advice or lamenting the same loss. This is one dimensional writing at its worst.
As the party continues on and April strides in feigning surprise (she knew of the party in secret beforehand), it's soon revealed that April and Alex were once passionate lovers. Here we're presented with Doolan's rendition of tension between homosexuals and heterosexuals. Her strokes are broad and blatantly without passion. It's as though she has no interest in delving into these problems, but simply labeling them and denouncing them as a whole. In one instance, April's mother is shocked to find her daughter once was a lesbian and prays to an alter and a muttered Saint. Later we find her having a heart-to-heart with another mom and soon April and her mother are reconciled and she accepts her daughter's homosexuality. There are good intentions here, sure; but no sentiment or enthusiasm. The small zest Doolan does contain she throws into the bouncy, sitcom-esquire score that flips about all the scenes posing as comedic.
In fact, the comedy is sometimes the most maddening aspect of April's Shower. Doolan refuses to allow her audience to be absorbed within her drama; instead hesitating and falling back to half-hearted comedy at every drop of a tear. Her humor is assuredly unfunny and detracts from whatever fragment of heartfelt drama she might have mustered. In some cases, her humor even undermines the morals she's forcing into view. One young girl begins asking each of the guests if they've ever kissed another female. Eventually, when one character takes the cue and leans in to kiss her, the young girl's closet-opening moment is made into a gaudy bit of weary satire. One scene later, we're back to solemnly discussing the tension of hiding the characters' homosexuality.
It's frustrating to see such a screwball mess result from a justly capable premise. Where Doolan's characters and story threads could be thoughtfully interwoven, they're instead pieced together with desperate, clumsy hands that would rather reach to the moon for a laugh than take a glance at the real world and find honest drama. Where good intentions and smart messages should be injected with subtle grace among the narrative, they're made centerpiece, forcing unearned melodrama out of what could have been quietly forceful developments.
I wanted to like April's Shower. I hoped for it to work as a superbly modern entry into the recent wave of gay/lesbian film. But even when the production values reached skywards with smooth and richly colorful camera work, April's Shower still broke down quicker than a rusty lawnmower. Its fault is in its creator. Trish Doolan's film shows that her understanding of film's elementary elements falls frightfully below rudimentary. Her intentions and ideals are good and fine, but her execution on them is dirt poor at best. All the characters scream and guffaw and squirt tears, but forget their duty is to spark these same reactions from the audience. We're left bored and weary from the crying shoulders and clunky messages, checking our watches at the end of each scene, wondering when the teary mess of April's Shower will finally be done with.