Before I Forget

Before I Forget is, in the broad sense, "gay-themed." But it's also one of the loveliest, most direct and most devastating pictures about aging that I've ever seen.

Exquisitely sad, idiosyncratic film à clef about an aging gay gigolo grasping at the embers of memory before they--and he--turn to ash.

It all comes down to Nolot's marvelous performance: His Pierre is sulky, morose, self-centered and curiously likeable, and Nolot leaves you wanting to know a bit more about just where this odd figure might be headed.

An unblinking portrait of a complicated, solitary gay man who has outlived his working years.

A film one can admire, but it is not "likable," per se, nor does its director wish it to be.

It's hardly a rosy picture of what it's like to be gay and 60 in Paris. But it's an engrossing picture.

If you've pondered how to order a round of fellatio as one orders a pizza or wondered what gay gentlemen of a certain age talk about, this touching glimpse of faded beauty and looming decrepitude fits the bill.