Byron and Kenny find themselves in a Greek tragedy of horrendous proportions as the gay guys that the cynical, drunken one of this Irish pair of 'working' lads has persuaded his more innocent friend to make money from start dropping dead. Ripped clothes and rent boys are in evidence as the lads start looking for the loot in the orthodox jew's bed, and they need a tool as big as two cans of Red Bull to get there. Luckily one is endowed with good fortune! The twits stumble through plot twists amid a succession of caricature characters and the film looks like South Park in live-action Brixton. Since every sensibility is deliberately offended, it reminds me of the attitude in Stephen Pickles' brilliant book of the pre-AIDS eighties, 'Queens.' No visible dicks may upset gays more than seeing themselves portrayed for laughs, but the lads are quite engaging, and humour not pornography dominates. It has won at gay as well as straight comedy film festivals (notably Montreal and Dublin) and the anxious straight critics needn't worry that they ought to be offended for their gay sisters. It's a tease: there are a couple of good twists about stereotypes near the end, and one of the lads realises he is enjoying the *** with men, while the other goes home to his mammy. In other words the film's biggest stereotypical statement is less about queens, dwarves, vicars, fat women, minicab drivers or black men than it is about Irishmen!
