Tanner Cohen can not sing. Why he thinks he can, I do not know. Why others think he can, I do not know. The director seems infatuated with him. He keeps using him.
This dreadful mess lurches and sways its way from one ridiculous scene after another. I mean, how many scenes am I supposed to take that feature singing men in undershorts and or fairy wings? And the songs. Oh God, some of them play out like a Ukrainian funeral march.
Look, maybe it's me. I am a gay man--maybe the only gay man--who doesn't get it. I was endlessly tempted to hit the fast forward to spare myself any more. Is it the fact that I find Cohen less than talented and boring? Honestly I don't know. But I'd rather suffer a years worth of bikini waxes than to sit through this monstrosity again.
This dreadful mess lurches and sways its way from one ridiculous scene after another. I mean, how many scenes am I supposed to take that feature singing men in undershorts and or fairy wings? And the songs. Oh God, some of them play out like a Ukrainian funeral march.
Look, maybe it's me. I am a gay man--maybe the only gay man--who doesn't get it. I was endlessly tempted to hit the fast forward to spare myself any more. Is it the fact that I find Cohen less than talented and boring? Honestly I don't know. But I'd rather suffer a years worth of bikini waxes than to sit through this monstrosity again.