Any Which Gay You Can

The gay-themed Testosterone needs more than an injection—this flick needs a whole transfusion. Strand Releasing's dark comedy is about as funny as a limp wrist and as profound as an episode of Will and Grace.

A witty series of illustrations introduces artist Dean's (David Sutcliffe) affair with Pablo (Antonio Sabato, Jr.), a South American stud whose hard-bodied affections apparently rock Dean's world. While Testosterone depicts Dean's infatuation with Pablo as romantic love, their time together seems strictly one night stand. It's not Sabato's fault; the former Calvin Klein underwear model does his best with a lousy role.

Pablo suddenly disappears, apparently returning to South America, and Dean is supposedly devastated. After taking a flight to Pablo's native Argentina, he confronts Pablo's scornful mother (Sonia Braga), and a pair of locals whose role in Pablo's life is especially peculiar (Celina Font, Leonardo Brzezicki). Jennifer Coolidge (Legally Blonde), as Dean's fag hag agent, gets the raunchiest lines and she delivers them with relish.

But Coolidge, like Sabato and the rest of the cast, is stuck in the sort of cinematic sneer at humanity that's typical of gay city culture, with characters as kind as a Doberman Pinscher on steroids. When Dean's not hurling profanities at everyone in Buenos Aires, he's either scoring drugs, cruising for sex, or checking out a bellboy's ass. No wonder Pablo—whom Testosterone wants us to hate—ditched the dude. Dean is pathetic.

Testosterone portrays the gay man as a hedonist: cheap, shallow and ready to mount the nearest lamppost. The gay marriage, or any seriously committed coupling, is regarded as both undesirable and unattainable; the gay male is poised for perpetual prowling, not for happiness.

Miss Braga and Coolidge are fun to watch and Marco D'Ambrosio's music is playful. Testosterone's finest feature is Celina Font, who plays a mysterious waitress named Sofia. With intense eyes and a petulant mouth, Miss Font acts as if she's playing the lead on Broadway. She isn't, but she makes Testosterone—with its disdain for the civilized gay man—less painful to endure.