Fulboy

Even though this was presented at a few gay film festivals and has been marketed as a gay film...it is NOT a gay film...neither is it a documentary - to call it such would discredit the word.

It's not even a film about football...for not a ball is seen to be kicked.

We all know that footballers have not been blessed with intelligence...although unnecessary, here's the proof.

Yes, it's very well-photographed, in a few places...dreadfully, in others. And...what's the deal with all the close-ups? Trying out the new macro-lens?

This is a combination of a poor-man's Dieux du Stade and those soft-core video magazines of 80s & 90s...i.e. before the internet...when titillation was a little harder to come by.

Farina seriously exploits his subjects...were they aware that his camera was firmly fixed upon their man-scaped crotches? For those interested...there are a few willies to be seen...but, the majority of the film is made up of dull, dire conversation.

Does the odd willy and drudgery constitute a gay film? If it does...we are doomed.

Despite a few 'pretty' pictures, the sound is bad throughout. Farina's narration is a monotonal dirge...his words are more flatulent than a raspberry-blowing competition...

And, pray tell, why all the badly-filmed haircutting scenes? Obviously, content was hard to come by...not surprising considering the subjects...but, haircuts?!?

Farina obviously adores his brother...but, this is less hero worship...more of a worrying fraternal rimming.

A masturbatory, monotonous monstrosity.

Trailer...