In this Case, ‘Watchable’ is High Praise

Don’t be dissuaded by the text, “A Rob
Williams Film.”

I wanted to churn out one more post before the year ended*, so I went on Tubi and entered the search term “New Year’s.” From those results I picked the 2013 indie horror movie, Antisocial, about a group of college students attending a New Year’s Eve party just as an epidemic is sweeping the globe, like, all of a sudden. The virus was of the zombie-creating variety because 2013, but otherwise a movie about a New Year’s celebration derailed by an epidemic seemed ideally suited for 2020. Also, the title spoke to me.

Then I checked out the external reviews on IMDb and saw that plenty of other people had already reviewed this movie, and that my lil’ ol’ blog would likely get lost in that long list of other blogs. So, I passed on zombie horror in favor for the gay holiday comedy SHARED ROOMS, a choice made with such haste that I didn’t even notice that I’d selected a Rob Williams movie. Well, I knew this day would come eventually.

In all fairness, Rob Williams isn’t the worst writer-director to pick up a digital camera. Even his weakest movies aren’t as bad as the works of Jeff London, or that Tommy Wiseau of gay cinema, Sam Mraovich (that said, Ben & Arthur is a must-see for fans of bad movies, regardless of how one identifies sexually). But his earlier movies — Long-Term Relationship and Back Soon — left me hoping that before Williams made any more films he might consider taking some classes in how that’s done.

Well, maybe he did. Williams showed marked improvement with his 2010 romance Role/Play, and Shared Rooms is better still. Keep in mind, though, that the bar Williams needed to clear is pretty low. 

Shared Rooms follows the three different sets of gay Los Angelenos during the week between Christmas and New Year’s Eve of a much happier time (2016, presumably, the same year this movie was released; alas, we still can’t escape a reference to the soon-to-be-former-President of the United States). The movie opens with Cal (Alec Manly Wilson) and his screenwriter husband Laslo (Christopher Grant Pearson), making catty comments to their dinner guests about mutual friends who have adopted a baby. “They go from gay dates to play dates,” Cal quips. Their guests, Blake and Ivan (respectively Eric Allen Smith and Christopher Patrino, both men mugging so hard they risk popping blood vessels) then sheepishly announce that they’re having a baby through a surrogate. (“We’re pregnant!”) 

The nuanced acting of Eric Allen Smith and
Christopher Patrino. 

 

 

Woodstock becomes a real boy!

Later that evening, Cal and Laslo reaffirm their commitment to remain childless. “But,” Cal adds, “we can keep trying the old fashioned way.” As fate and plot devices would have it, however, the couple must reconsider their decision to give fatherhood a pass when Cal’s 17-year-old gay nephew Zeke (twitchy Ryan Weldon) shows up on their front doorstep, kicked out by his mother for being an “abomination.” Cal, who’s sister’s homophobia lead her to cut him from her life before Zeke was born, feels the teen is owed a safe space. Plus, the boy can whip up an all-the-carbs-you-can-eat breakfast in no time. (Seriously, movie, coffee cake, stacks of toast and pillars of pancakes? Even Honey Boo Boo would consider that excessive.)

If your breakfast for three can’t be shown in a single
shot, you’re eating too goddamn much.

Elsewhere, Cal and Laslo’s accountant, Julian (Daniel Lipshutz), is entertaining lanky, salt-and-pepper stud Frank (David Vaughn). Frank is not Julian’s date, as it first appears, but a paying guest, renting Julian’s roommate’s room (unbeknownst to the roommate, naturally) while he’s out of town on business. That said, Julian is quite eager to provide Frank with some extra personal service, if Frank would just pick up on the signals.

Julian’s signals aren’t exactly ambiguous.

But then the roommate, Dylan (Robert Werner), returns much earlier than expected, complicating Julian’s plans to seduce Frank, to say nothing of his clandestine subletting scheme. Dylan’s pissed that his room is being rented to strangers (“You call them strangers, I call them customers,” Julian says), though not nearly as angry as he should be. It turns out Dylan’s harbored a secret crush on Julian ever since they moved in together. Being forced to share a bed with Julian for a week might be what it takes for his deceptive roomie to see him as more than one half of the rent payment. Personally, I found Julian’s charms to be strictly physical (as played by Lipshutz, Julian is so oily it’s a safe bet he’s embezzling from his clients), but then Dylan wouldn’t be the first gay man to let a nice ass cloud his judgment.

Dylan considers a midnight snack.

Finally, there is Sid (Justin Xavier Smith, delivering every line in a mocking drone), who has arranged a Christmas hook-up with Dylan’s ex, Gray (yet another actor with three names, Alex Neil Miller), through the Grindr-like app Manhandler (or is it Manhandlr?). Sid is so eager to get down to business that he greets Gray in all his full frontal glory, and quickly helps his sultry-voiced trick out of his clothes, giving us another penis to admire, albeit briefly. The pair remain naked for most of the movie as Gray stays for a second round, then a third, and ultimately until New Year’s Eve. When the couple isn’t fucking they’re discussing David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest, (“I read every chapter, every footnote, every end note, and I can’t even begin to tell you what it is about,” says Gray), spirituality (Sid believes in God; Gray’s an atheist), and Americans’ hypocritical attitudes about nudity (Sid tells of an actor friend who refuses to do full frontal nudity for acting roles but posts dick pics on Manhandler). These conversations, plus more personal revelations, soon transform their impersonal sexual encounter into a full-fledged relationship.

Justin Xavier Smith and Alex Neil Miller go
full frontal early but not often.

The three storylines converge at Cal and Laslo’s New Year’s Steve-Not-Eve Party, where Williams doesn’t tie things up with a big red ribbon so much as slap one of those dollar store self-adhesive bows on top before wishing us a Happy New Year. 

Laslo and Cal toast the conclusion of Shared Rooms.

Still Room for Improvement

As I said, Shared Rooms is one of Williams’ better movies. Unlike the aforementioned Long-Term Relationship, Shared Rooms almost manages to pass itself off as a made-for-TV movie rather than the work of a beginning YouTuber. The issues with pacing, tone and acting that plague his earlier movies aren’t as abundant this time out. Though the movie has its sluggish moments, particularly during the Sid and Gray scenes, it makes more efficient use of its 75-minute runtime. There are fewer tonal shifts, too, though the Zeke storyline threatens to take this bubbly gay rom-com into turgid melodrama territory, but thankfully Williams settles on letting it become A Very Special Episode with jokes about butt fucking.

Alex Neil Miller’s hair is on purpose, apparently.

It’s the cast who get the most credit for making Shared Rooms pleasant viewing. Wilson and Pearson are well matched, making their characters believable as a couple as well as funny. Pearson’s mocking the script he’s writing for a Lifetime-esque Christmas movie is a particular high point (“And the award goes to…something other than this crap.”) Werner and Miller were also standouts, as much for their persistent bed heads as their acting. What did they do that caused hair and makeup to refuse brushing their unruly mops, I wonder?

Just because this is one of Williams’ stronger films doesn’t mean the director has fully overcome his weaknesses, however. Though his script has plenty of funny moments, it has just as many hack jokes (“That’s what he said.”) that even his best actors can’t save. Williams also continues to be way too reliant on contrived situations, being especially fond of characters withholding information for dramatic/comedic effect, e.g., Zeke’s inability to make direct statements about, well, pretty much every fucking thing, be it his identity or his underwear preferences (yet freely sharing that he’s a bottom). Williams isn’t the first screenwriter to resort to hack jokes and plot contrivances, of course, but they don’t do his movie any favors.  

This looks sweet, but it’s a totally impractical way
to watch a movie. Does Sid not own a TV?

Still, it’s good to see Williams is learning from his past mistakes. As it stands, Shared Rooms is a pleasant little gay rom-com, with enough laughs and gratuitous nudity to put one in a forgiving mood when confronted by its shortcomings. It’s not essential viewing, but it’s watchable, and for a Rob Williams movie, watchable is high praise.

*A goal I obviously failed to achieve. Happy 2021, regardless.