This film is the definitive example of pretentious French film-making at its worst. What could have been a sharp and witty satire on sexual identity is instead a rancid bouillabaisse of tedium. The main protagonist's character is utterly lacking in anything remotely positive and his "conquests" are as equally vapid. Everyone in this film either scowls or pouts and there is nothing likable about the whole bunch. For a film that is suppose to be a black comedy the one glaring omission is humor. It has the feeling of a movie that wishes to be many things but can't quite make up its mind as to what. What it ends up being is just relentlessly tedious. The only humor to be found is in asking ones self, "Do people really talk to each other this way?" One only wishes the ex-con at the end would have wiped out this whole sorry bunch of narcissists and brought some life into this dull mess.
Review of La confusion des genres
