Walk A Mile In My Pradas

Big butch Tony who’s obsessively homophobic takes umbrage when he is forced to work with Steve his Boss’s nephew who is obviously gay because he wears Prada shoes. (Don’t yell at me, I didn’t wrote this plot!) Tony makes no attempt to hide his repulsion and things almost comes to blows between the two men at the Boss’s Christmas Party. In a fit of pique instead of fisticuffs they both wish out loud that each other could change sexuality to see what life is like batting for the other team.  And naturally as this is in the presence of the magic Christmas Angel, before you can say ‘poof’ Steve no longer is one, and Tony is.
 
And from then on, the stereotypes just keep getting worse. According to actor-turned-director Joey Sylvester this means that as Tony is now gay he likes prancing around in pretty aprons as within 24 hours he has become a gourmet cook and is now obsessed with buying new Prada loafers, whilst Steve miraculously discovers overnight that he is a talented motor mechanic, and a total sports fanatic and has lost complete interest in clothes.
 
They are not the only luckless ones in this ill-considered attempt at making light of a serious problem like homophobia as the plot is riddled with other stereotypes like the gay bar patron who throws himself at any/every man in the bathroom stall, or the poor stupid fat girl (she thinks homophobia is fear of houses!) who is so desperate for a date she aggressively chases any/every man who happens to be single.
 
I didn’t expect a great deal of depth from a movie with such a frivolous title, and I guess I could have accepted a reasonable amount of political incorrectness humor if the whole piece had been the slightest bit amusing, but it was painfully unfunny. Even more surprising given the fact that this wee indie movie had a couple of big hitters in the cast  …. Tom Arnold and Bruce Vlanch …. but the latter in particular could add nothing with his wincingly embarrassing turn.
 

Available on DVD and VOD …. but you would be better on keeping your money in your piggy bank to save up your own pair of Pradas.


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