House of Boys

The performances have heart, and a sorrowful tenderness courses through the self-described "fairy tale," even at its kitschiest.

There's nothing wrong with social message melodramas that tackle the AIDS crisis and certainly not every gay release has to please crowds like "Priscilla, Queen of the Desert," but Schlim has a good-time movie with a likable cast.

A gay tragedy in three acts and more than a dozen excellent songs, House of Boys conveys an emotional honesty that overrides its dated style.

Call me crazy-stupid, but locker-room anal sex aside, didn't Christina Aguilera just enact this scenario last fall in "Burlesque"?

Thesping is more engaging than accomplished, as Anderson's constant smile cracks around the edges and Northover's dourness is a bit overdone.

And yet, for all its hanging on the details of the boys' heavily eroticized performances and its graphing of the relationships between the young performers, the film is at once too drawn out and underdeveloped.

Once AIDS rears its head, this nostalgic look back goes into melodrama mode - and quickly descends from bad to much, much worse.