Another Gay Sequel

Directed By Todd Stephens

Review By Camryn Hansen

If you enjoyed Another Gay Movie, or if you happen to be really into jokes about butts, or if the color schemes at Wal-Mart particularly excite you, there’s a good chance you’ll get a kick out of Another Gay Sequel, the new comedy from director Todd Stephens that, in addition to jokes about butts, also makes jokes about poop.  Another Gay Movie, in a gay parody of fun-and-quirky-out-of-the-box-teens-grapple-with-their-budding-sexuality movies like American Pie, chronicled the adventures of four gay teens all struggling to lose their virginity—with hilarious results!  Another Gay Sequel, which seems to be as much a parody of Another Gay Movie as it is all at once a parody of every other stupid teen movie/cult movie/camp movie/porn movie/sequel movie ever made, follows the same four characters down to Fort Lauderdale for a Gays Gone Wild contest, the object of which is to have as much anonymous gay sex with as many partners as possible.  (It’s worth noting that three of these four main characters are played by different actors than in the first film; the original actors having pulled out of Sequel’s production at the last minute, ostensibly because their agents didn’t want them to get a “gay reputation” by doing two gay movies in a row.  This too is parodied in what would otherwise be an inscrutable Wizard of Oz-esque exchange at the beginning of the film, in which Nico (Jonah Blechman) wakes up from a dream to tell the new actors that he remembers them from before, but that they all look different now, winky winky.)  As you’d better expect, if you’ve seen enough movies to get even a fraction of the pop culture references in Another Gay Sequel, the film’s ensuing sex quest ultimately leads each of its utterly unsympathetic and unoriginal characters not into the arms of the “in-crowd” into which they were expecting to be initiated (in this case, a group of disturbingly homo-normative beef-cake gays in tans and skimpy speedos) but to a new dimension of self-knowledge that celebrates the uniqueness of the individual and the selfless true love of another human being.  Barf.  Literally—there is more barf in this movie (made of apple-cinnamon oatmeal, if you can believe it) than in any other you will ever see, ever.  There is also a whole bunch of man-on-man sex, men peeing on each other, men getting their parts super-glued together and gruesomely pulled apart again, men using elephantine butt plugs, men eating poop, men getting crabs the size of chicken wings, men being fisted by zombies, RuPaul dressed as a man, porn star Brett Corrigan dressed as a mermaid, and Perez Hilton doing a curiously terrible acting job playing himself.  While there may be an ounce of humanity and tenderness in Blechman’s fabbed out Nico, as there was in Another Gay Movie itself, there is none to be found anywhere else in this un-intriguing film.  I didn’t laugh.  I didn’t cry.  It wasn’t better than sex.