Great googly moogly, what have these filmmakers and stars gotten themselves into with Unconditional Love?

In a plot that I can only describe as inspired-by-peyote, Kathy Bates decides to head to rural Britain for the funeral of a murdered pop star after hubby Dan Aykroyd abruptly dumps her. Dressed in sequins and seen mainly in Six Feet Under-like flashbacks/materializations, Jonathon Pryce plays the pop star. As it turns out, pop star is gay and has left his estate to his lover (Rupert Everett). Bates and Everett then take it upon themselves to hunt down the murderer. What follows includes both Barry Manilow and Sally Jessy Raphael.

Just typing this I'm groaning aloud. I can't imagine anyone thought this sounded like a good idea for a movie. Obviously New Line agreed, sending this dreck straight to video to avoid the embarassment of a theatrical release. It's a sloppy mishmash of stories -- as is easily evidenced by the previous paragraph -- none of which stand on their own and which crash disastrously when combined. Bates comes off as dippy and distant. Everett comes of as mean and crusty. Pryce is just inexplicable with a gray pompadour and blue sequins. And Manilow rocks. Er...

Ultimately, this one will undoubtedly find an audience among hardcore fans of the cast members, but for the general public it's impossible to recommend.



So wrong. So wrong.