MOVIE REVIEW

Stories of 'Sadness' Make a Striking Film

By KEVIN THOMAS, TIMES STAFF WRITER

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Friday April 4, 1997

     In an era of short attention spans, Barry Yourgrau has emerged as a performance artist who holds audiences spellbound with his storytelling ability. He has now raised the ante by performing before a camera in "The Sadness of Sex," composed of 15 vignettes drawn from his collection of short stories of the same name.
     He and his director and co-adapter, Rupert Wainwright, have been remarkably inventive and resourceful in making their film as cinematic as possible, enriching rather than undercutting Yourgrau's considerable presence.
     Although filmed principally in Toronto, with the baroque interior of a lovely old theater as its key setting, "Sadness" actually opens with Yourgrau walking down deserted South Broadway in downtown Los Angeles, where he pauses before the long-shuttered Tower Theater and imagines himself performing there.
     Right off, he establishes a direct connection to his subconscious as he recalls his childhood--or rather a childhood that may or may not be precisely his own--and finds himself imagining his father as a cross-dresser and his mother as a dominatrix.
     He also begins projecting himself as a perfectly sane individual who nevertheless confronts us with the idea that men--and maybe women, too--can have a lot of bizarre thoughts about sex if they're honest with themselves and, further, that honesty holds the possibility of healing and bonding. The notion that particularly threads through the often darkly humorous vignettes is that men can get stuck on a perpetual psychological seesaw in regard to their attraction to women, alternately fearing and desiring them.
     In the midst of a given story, Wainwright will deftly cut away from Yourgrau to a kaleidoscopic variety of visuals, including stills, clips from old movies and some staged moments in which Yourgrau and others actually act out a scene. Golden Palominos, Cowboy Junkies and Daniel Lanois, among others, provide rich and evocative musical accompaniment, which flows with the stories.
     This distinctive narrative technique culminates in an inspired parable, outrageous yet serious, that is dramatized as a mini-film noir. In it, Yourgrau suggests powerfully how men and women can feel sex and emotion divided within themselves. He emerges as a kind of private eye in search of a way to bring them together.
     This tour de force vignette also underlines how ideal Yourgrau is for the camera. Lean and rakish, he looks great in a snap-brim hat and wide lapels as he plays a Philip Marlowe-like detective. Although the goatee he wears gives him a Mephistophelean look, its ultimate effect is to make him seem emotionally vulnerable, something with which everyone can identify.

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The Sadness of Sex, 1997. Unrated. A Tara release of a Skyvision Partners production. Director Rupert Wainwright. Producers David Lancaster, Rupert Maconick. Executive producers Jim Reid, Howard Rosen. Screenplay by Yourgrau and Wainright; drawn from stories in Yourgrau's collection, "The Sadness of Sex." Cinematographer Andre Pienaar. Editor Brian Berdan. Costumes Mariska M. Nicholson. Music supervisors Budd Carr, Amy Krell. Production designer Franco De Cotis. Set decorator Peter Faragher. Running time: 1 hour, 25 minutes. Barry Yourgrau as Host-Narrator. Peta Wilson as Girl of His Dreams.