. . . but I just couldn’t pull it off.
I saw the movie Boys Don’t Cry and read a book about the same, I liked them both. I figured the documentary video “The Brandon Teena Story” would be fairly interesting.
How wrong I was.
Instead of feeling sad for the victims, all I could think about while watching this piece of hokey crap was how everyone in Brandon’s life had to have been inbred stump-jumpers.
I had a really hard time feeling compassion for these people “After eyes 'erd maw dawter was kilt but hers baby weres okay, eyes headed on down to da bar an hads me 4 er 5 beers” then he goes into some drivel about talking to a bar patron about fixing something on his car. You would have thought the guy would have at least put on a clean t-shirt to film a documentary about the death of his daughter (I forget her name).
If there were a picture next to the words “Trailer Trash” in the dictionary, this group of people would be smiling their toothless grins from the page.
I do feel compassion, but I really did have an awfully hard time getting past the image of these people long enough to see the story, not to mention the twangy, overbearing music.
I really am not heartless, so please tell me I am not the only one to get this impression.