Claire of the Moon

Every stereotype in the history of lesbian movies applies in this insipid piece of coitus interruptus from Portland, Oregon, director Nicole Conn. Not only doesn't she have the courage to write and direct something that is uniquely her own--she pulls almost verbatim from Donna Deitch's better, more masterful lesbian drama Desert Hearts--but she banters to every inane heterosexual cliché, including slow-burning looks, endless cigarettes, and long, slow-motion walks on the beach. This horribly acted love story between legendary writer Claire Jabrowski (Trisha Todd) and sex therapist Dr. Nicole Benedict (Karen Trumbo) unfolds as the two (gulp) become roommates at a New Age writers workshop. The romance then relies on flirting and inane banter to involve the viewer. After an hour of scary lesbian dyke drama, we're all ready to change sexual preference. It's poorly acted, silly, and titillating in that it will provoke bored straight women more than gay girls. In the end this regressive movie will appeal most to lost souls who believe true love will be found in all the wrong places. Too, it's an insult to freelance writers everywhere who struggle hourly to make a living. Watching Claire--of the moon or of whatever planet--walk beaches while she reaps paychecks and accolades from unknown sources (never do we see her type a word) is ridiculous and false. I'm here to tell you they do it (finally) in the end, but the long wait isn't worth the boring soft porn finale. Look instead to Patricia Rozema's When Night Is Falling for real thrills. --Paula Nechak (from amazon.com)