Did I let the fact that I was a tad underwhelmed by the ho-hum nature of the uniforms the girls had to wear in this movie undermine my enjoyment? What are you fucking kidding? If anything, it actually enhanced my enjoyment. You see, writer-director
Tim Kincaid (
Riot on 42nd Street) is an artist, and like any artist, he knows how to turn something that is bland and uninspiring into something that will uplift and arouse greatness in others. The blue jeans and the white t-shirts were like a blank canvas, and Mr. Kincaid's imagination was the paint. In a stroke of genius, he allowed each inmate to tinker with the structural makeup of their white t-shirt. Some simply rolled up the sleeves, while others just cut them off all together. I don't want to overstate this, but I think the decision to let the girls to endow their t-shirts with individual characteristics was one of the greatest in film history.
In the spirit of transparency, some of the t-shirts were already sleeveless (i.e. they were manufactured as such). But for the most part, the girls did add personal touches to their shirts. I guess when you first enter the dormitory you're given a choice between a t-shirt with sleeves or a t-shirt without sleeves; what you do with after it's been handed to you is entirely up to the person wearing it. One girl who wisely chose to go sleeveless was Paige (
Natalie O'Connell), as her ample bosom would have suffocated underneath all that excess t-shirt fabric. Anyway, mere seconds after arriving at the Port Authority Bus Terminal, Paige finds her ample bosom in a degrading situation. Hoping to make some money as a model, Paige is suddenly topless in the office of a sleazy pornographer. Just as she was about to be violated by a naked man named Roland (
Harve Soto), the operation is busted by some prudish vice cops. And Paige is, you guessed it, sent to a juvenile detention centre run by Miss Madison (
Marita), a stylish Colombian woman.
Earlier that day, in another sketchy part of town, Marina (
Teresa Farley) is left holding a bag of cocaine in a ramshackle room on the third floor of a condemned building. Is she shocked when her boyfriend Paco (
Jeffrey Iorio) and a female drug dealer wearing a leopard print fingerless gloves bail on her when the cops arrive. Actually, I bet she wasn't surprised at all when the spiky-haired drug dealer (her vest was leopard print as well) took off when things started to get out of hand, but she was definitely hurt by Paco's actions. (Why, Paco? Why?) You could totally tell, as she stood there in her black, mesh tank-top, that she didn't expect to be left in the lurch like that.
In the crazy, mixed up world of
Bad Girls Dormitory, there's no time to ask Paco why he bolted or explain to the cops that I'm a simple country girl from Staten Island, because, before you know it, Marina, Paige, and another girl, who we'll later come to know as Eula (
Renata Cobbs), are listening to Dr. DeMarco (
Dan Barclay) and the lovely Nurse Stevens (
Rebecca Rothbaum) lay down the ground rules as they prepare to administer a full body search. Telling them to "lean over," the doctor begins his examination. I wonder if he found anything? I doubt it. In fact, I have a nagging suspicion that the whole ordeal was just an excuse for Dr. DeMarco, and, yes, Nurse Stevens, to get a sneak peak at the latest line of underage undercarriages to hit the dormitory, as both of them, as we'll soon find out, are unabashed when it comes to idolizing the vaginal plateaus of others.
Meanwhile, Miss Madison, who obviously does not share the orificial obsessions of her pussy-starved staff, is giving Ron (
Rick Gianasi), a handsome social worker, a tour of her first-class correctional facility (well, in her mind, it's "first-class"). Informing her that he'll find his own way out after the tour is over, Ron starts poking his head around the place. The first place he pokes his head is the basement, but all he finds down there is Jen (
Jane Donadio), a shy, virginal redhead smoking weed. However, he hits pay dirt with the next place he pokes his head when stumbles upon some young ladies showering. Lathering her taut body with enough soap to clean a small Guatemalan family, Tim Kincaid's camera is in love with LeeAnne Baker (a.k.a. the reputed pleasure droid from
Mutant Hunt). Playing an inmate with short hair, LeeAnne's unnamed character is a pro when it comes to washing her perky frame in front of her bratty peers. Strangely enough, Ron's not interested in the svelte brunette from
Necropolis, no, his lustful gaze is focused squarely on Lori (
Carey Zuris), an equally slender woman with dirty blonde hair. Unlike the other so-called "grown ups" who work in this hellhole, Don's perverted leering is tinged with an air of sadness. Staring at one another for quite some time, Lori, who's too depressed to bother to wash herself with any zest whatsoever, eventually tires of his empathetic leering and curtly asks him, "Seen enough?"
Feminine chaos is best way to describe what transpires next, as we're ushered into the dorm's mess hall. A veritable cornucopia of charming tough chicks, the cafeteria is awash with cigarettes, soda pop, plastic utensils, chocolate bars, white t-shirts, big hair, and, of course, the sound of
Man Parrish's expertly programmed sequencers and drum machines. Now, I should warn you, people who are unaccustomed to seeing this many attractive women gathered together in a small space might want to look away during this sequence. As for the rest of us, let's dig in.
The mess hall scene is probably the most important in the entire film, as it introduces us to all women we'll be spending next eighty or so minutes with. Having already been introduced to the so-called "fresh meat," this section of the film gives us an opportunity to meet the dormitory's more hardened residents. And you can't get any more hardened than Lisa (
Jennifer Delora) and Rebel (
Donna Eskra), two gals who take bullying to new and exciting places. Eyeballing Lori almost immediately, Lisa stakes her claim by telling her she has pretty eyes. However, she's distracted when she discovers that Barb (
Frances Raines) is cutting Jen's meat. The "Red" of the
Bad Girls Dormitory universe, the excessively blonde Valeska (
Charmagne Eckert), the dormitory's most alluring "guest," tells Paige, Marina, and Eula that she's the girl to talk to if you need anything (whether it be a nail-laden baseball bat or a slightly used box of tampons), because she's got "connections."
Even more eyeballing takes place when we encounter Dottie (
Kate McCamy), a shock-haired cauldron of bewitching unpleasantness who takes exception with the fact that Deke (
Parri Shahmanesh), a butch lesbian, and her bubble-headed gal pal Lenka (
Cathryn Bissell), are giving her the stink-eye. I'm guessing the reason behind their stink-laden stares might have had something to do with Dottie's plastic fork-themed attempt to flirt with McCoy (
Bill Peterson), a guard/rapist who works at the dormitory. At any rate, employing an undercooked hot dog to help accentuate the overall impact of her hand gestures, Dottie tells them point blank, "Don't make me get up. If I do, I'll be twisting some tits." After she finished uttering that line, I couldn't help but notice that I was starting to develop strong feelings toward her. As this was happening, I began to think to myself: Try not to get too attached, you never know which of these girls is going to die horribly.
Luckily, we only see Dottie two more times after her verbal spat with Deke and Lenke, as the more I thought about her, the more I wanted to swoop in and rescue her from this banal existence. After lights out, we see Dottie, who I didn't recognize at first, screaming, "Shut up, you stupid fruitcake" to a disruptive individual in another bunk; her brash demeanour reminded me of Antonia Basilotta (a.k.a.
Toni Basil), as I could totally picture the famed actress, singer, choreographer, and all around fabulous person telling someone to be quiet in this manner. Her final appearance takes place during visiting hours in the mess hall when she is briefly seen talking to her boyfriend. Well, "talking" is a bit of a stretch, as he says, "Hey, baby," to which Dottie responds, "You motherfuckin' scumbag!" I'm no expert when it comes to inner workings of the human brain, but I think Dottie even realized that "motherfuckin' scumbag" might have been
way harsh. But then again, her assessment could have been right on the money. Hey, maybe he was a "motherfuckin' scumbag." Who knows.
Okay, with Dottie out of the picture, who am I supposed to obsess over now? I liked the transition Paige makes in the film, as she goes from being a naive bumpkin with large breasts to a savvy sex pot...with large breasts. The way she slumped in her chair, opened a couple of buttons on her button-fly jeans, and told Dr. DeMarco, "I'm a whore," in response to his question, "Why are you here"? was, I'll admit, pretty bad ass. Yet, I still found her to be too soft. No, I like my bad girls to be always hard.
How 'bout Rebel? Oooh, I loved her. She was complex, horny as fuck, scrappy (she picks a fight with Marina in the mess hall after mail call), and always full of surprises. Choosing a sleeveless top to express herself, Rebel is essentially Lisa's big haired sidekick (one who gets told to "shut her hole" on occasion), but she wasn't a mindless sycophant. Far from it. Her decision to help Gloria (
Sherry Hoard), a girl who is trying to hide her pregnancy from Miss Madison and the guards, was very out of character. (You would think that Dr. DeMarco and Nurse Stevens would have noticed that Gloria was pregnant–you know, with them being on the cusp of the medical profession and all. But I doubt they took their jobs seriously. In fact, I bet the only reason they worked there was to capitalize on the abundance of cheap heroin and guilt-free poontang.)
While the unexpected kindness she displays was a nice touch, the Rebel I prefer is the one who's constantly craving sex and facilitating the murder of her friend's rivals. The best examples of the former come when she finishes appeasing the carnal desires Dr. DeMarco and Nurse Stevens with the mollifying moistness of the throbbing fissure festering between her legs. Sapped of their strength, Rebel takes advantage of their post-coital lethargy by ridiculing them. My personal favourite was the way she told the doctor he was the "worst lay" she's ever had while simultaneously flipping her hair with her hand (the best after sex hair flip I've seen all year). Actually, telling Nurse Stevens, "I don't want a bitch, I want a man," while she smoothed out the creases in her white pantyhose was pretty great as well.
In terms of facilitating murder? Hmm, I'd say the look on Rebel's face when Lisa dispatches one of her rivals in the basement with piano wire was the best example of this specific character trait. Oh, and if the nonchalant look on the Rebel's face while Lisa murdered her rival reminded you of the equally nonchalant mug the luminous
Laurie-Ann Gill wears in the music videos for
Nudimension's "
Amour Programmé" and "
Living On Video" by
Trans-X, then we share the same brain.
In one of the film's more bizarre scenes, Rebel agrees to escort Gloria to the bathroom (she is suffering from morning sickness). However, instead of helping her, she winds up getting sidetracked when the opportunity to have sex with a male guard (
Mark Umile) comes along. The back and forth between the two, as Rebel fucks and Gloria pukes, was memorable because it's set to the music of
Man Parrish, the electro pioneer behind such classics as "
Hip Hop Be Bop (Don't Stop)" and "
Boogie Down (Bronx)." The result is a strangely musical scene, where Gloria's repetitious cry, "Rebel, I need you," and Rebel's reply, "Just a minute...I'm coming," come across as lyrics when paired with Man's beats and synthesizers.
If the scene with Rebel and Gloria was the most bizarre, the mess hall sequence set to "
Hose Me Down" by Man Parish and
Beth Rudetsky was definitely the most awesome. Determining that the girls need to blow off some steam after the recent rape-induced suicide of one of their own (permitting male guards to work at a girls dormitory was a questionable decision), Miss Madison chaperones what has to be the greatest mess hall dance party scene in the history of cinema. Since she allows their boyfriends to attend, the scene suddenly becomes veritable haze of headbands, tank-tops with Japanese writing on them, Jheri curl, faint facial hair, studded bracelets, Polo cologne, and fingerless gloves. The way their break dancing duds combined with the residual new wave and punk styles that were still prevalent at the time was quite the eyeopener (the gap between masculinity and femininity was virtually nonexistent). Anyway, not only do we get to see
LeeAnne Baker dance, we also get a glimpse into how shoddily run the dormitory actually is (while Miss Madison is overseeing the dance party, drugs are being sold and guards are groping girls right under her nose).
Judging by her pushy nature, you knew she was doomed the moment she started boasting to the new fish about her talents when it came to acquiring smuggled goods (which, as everyone knows, is Lisa's racket). But you got to give up to the gorgeous
Charmagne Eckert for being so delectable as Valeska, the slenderest slice of womanly excellence to ever stalk the grimy halls of a girls dormitory. Sporting a natural gift for self-promotion, and, not to mention, the most lickable thorax in the known universe, Valeska's downfall may have been rapid, but her knack for laughing at the misfortunes of others was downright adorable.
Since they probably didn't shoot enough material to qualify as a feature length film, someone decided to include three drawn-out fight scenes to pad things out. And since
Jennifer Delora (
Frankenhooker) is a black belt in judo, why not have her fight one of the female guards? Sure, the rivalry between Lisa and a guard named Harper (
Rachel Hancock) isn't really explained (I guess they just don't like each other), but their brawl in the girls' sleeping quarters was still pretty great. However, midway through their rematch in the basement, I couldn't help but notice that I was starting feel a tad sluggish. It got so bad, that I almost fell into a coma when another extended fight scene breaks out between a male guard and Marina's boyfriend. The fact that this fight occurs immediately after Lisa and Harper's second dust-up had ended was just plain egregious. In spite of that, I'm happy to report that
Tim Kincaid's first non-gay porn foray into the lube-free realm of exploitation cinema is a smashing success.
A blotchy pap smear masquerading as filmed entertainment, this movie is not only a blight on cinema, but a stain on humanity as a whole. The people who made this should be ashamed of themselves. I mean, we all want to meet someone who has similar interests, but this is ridiculous. Hi, what you are currently watching me do is something I like to do from time to time, and that is, feign outrage over the film I just watched. You see, I want to be shocked and appalled by the stuff I look at, but I just can't seem to muster any genuine indignation. What can I say? My parents were non-practicing Satanists who forced me to make high end bean bag chairs out in our nonexistent garage. While I'd like to pretend my moral compass was irreparably damaged after seeing what transpires throughout the low rent horror comedy Psychos in Love, I was too busy wading in a warmish pool of my own giddiness to care what my fake conscious thought of the film. A combination of everything I hold dear as a moviegoer, or, I should say, "moviewatcher," as I don't exactly "go" anywhere anymore, the film is surprisingly witty, wonderfully gory, and totally sexy. Yeah, that's right. It's a triple threat. Wait a minute. Are you trying to tell me that it's funny, grisly, and titillating? Is that what you're saying? Hey, man, that's exactly what I'm saying. In terms of comedy, it takes the hatred of grapes and all other grape-related products to levels of absurdity that even I didn't think existed. Gore-wise, the fake blood budget must have been through the roof, because the red stuff flows quite liberally from start to finish. Well, actually, they must have had some cash left over, because the clothes worn in this movie, especially some of the frilly numbers the female characters wear from time to time, were downright delicious with a capital delish. Oh, and before you start thinking to yourself that this sounds like yet another slasher flick about a man who kills women in order to satisfy his psychosexual bloodlust, you should know that men and women are both murdered in equal measure.
Men get slashed, stabbed, and, on rare occasions, bludgeoned to death with rocks just as often as women do. However, it doesn't start off that way. We're barely ten seconds into it, when a woman in a striped blue and white dress played by Carrie Gordon is strangled to death just as she was about to deface the walls of a bathroom stall (the way her white panties dangled helplessly around her supple ankles as she expired was oddly appealing) and another woman with mysterious eyes (Carla Bragoli) is killed in a similar fashion, but she gets strangled out in the woods. And it doesn't stop there, a naked woman (Patti Chambers) is stabbed and/or slashed in bed, while another, who actually has name, Dianne (Angela Nicholas)–the others in this sequence are credited according to where they were killed, for example, the woman who who was strangled while urinating is credited as "Girl in Toilet"–is repeatedly stabbed while taking a shower. As all this mayhem was taking place, I thought to myself: I hope the entire movie isn't going to be like this.
It might start off like your typical slasher film, but Psychos in Love takes a bit of a left turn at around the five minute mark. Would it surprise you to learn that this film, co-written and directed by Gorman Bechard (Galactic Gigolo), is actually quite romantic? It's true, on top of being funny, gory, and, of course, sexy, it's got a sweet and tender side. I don't know why I'm acting all surprised; after all, the word "love" is in the freaking title. It's just that I was genuinely moved by the film's love story, as it touched me in places I haven't been touched in years. And, no, I'm not talking about my genitals, I'm referring to my heart.
Extolling the physical virtues of a woman named Dianne (yes, the same woman from the shower), Joe (Carmine Capobianco) suddenly switches to the subject of Kate (Debi Thibeault), a woman with similar physical attributes to that of Dianne (he describes their legs as "long" and "sensuous" and their eyes as "deep" and "penetrating"). Lying in the exact same position as Dianne (on her stomach in pink panties), and reading the exact same book ("21 Abnormal Sex Cases"), the way Joe talks about Kate as she lay on her bed was borderline poetic. Hold up, you mean Joe isn't going to kill Kate in the shower, too? I don't think so. While the "Girl in Woods" and the "Girl in Bed" were attractive and junk, Kate is downright gorgeous. There's no way he would kill a woman that lovely, especially one who was able to pull off the short hair look while still managing to retain her femininity; it just wouldn't make sense.
In a way, by comparing Dianne and Kate, Joe was soothing the sciatic aches and pains of his crippling depression. You see, being a psychokiller isn't all chocolate giraffes and low-cost cunnilingus, it can be a rather lonely vocation. In a world filled with people who like grapes, Joe sees Kate as the anti-Dianne. Sure, their organic structures boast a lot of the same nooks and crannies, but does she like to kill strangers? Or more importantly, how does she feel about grapes? Now I've seen love blossom over a number of different things, but never have I seen it bloom because the two parties involved shared a mutual animosity towards grapes.
When he's not killing women at random, Joe tends bar at the strip club he owns; actually, to call his establishment a "strip club" is a bit of a stretch since he only has one dancer, Nikki (Cecelia Wilde). But, on the other hand, she does strip. Anyway, Joe's life changes the moment Kate (who is wearing a black lace tank-top and a matching skirt with a slit down the side) walks into his strip club one Saturday night. Grabbing a seat at the bar (the slit on her aforementioned skirt allows her to sit with an added degree of comfort), Kate asks Joe for a light. After lighting a customer's cigarette, it's customary for bartenders to ask them what they want to drink. However, instead of suggesting a beer or a shot of bourbon, Joe decides to test Kate's mettle right out of the gate by offering her a glass of grape juice. Does she pass his grape test? You bet she does, and with flying colours, I might add; she expresses her grape disgust by reciting Joe's anti-grape mantra word for word.
Since we have already seen what Joe can do– murder-wise, that is–it's only fair that Kate get her chance to shine as a murderous fiend. Keep in mind, though, Joe still doesn't know that Kate is a serial killer; this sequence is strictly for the audience watching at home. It turns out that Kate is a manicurist, and usually comes across her victims through her nail beautifying service (she makes house calls). I'm confused, what kind a man gets his nails done in the 1980s?!? It's best you don't ask questions like that, and just go with the flow. We're shown Kate dispatching two men, well, three men, but let's focus on the two I remember. One is a sleazy swinger, and the other a picnic enthusiast who likes grapes. But more importantly, this when we get our first real peak at Debi Thibeault's sexy legs. True, we do get to see them during Joe's fantasy sequence and again when she's sitting at the bar, but it's only when she's in the throes of murder that we begin to fully comprehend the magnitude of Debi's irrefutable legginess.
When it came time to kill the swinger, Kate forgoes the whole frying pan routine (the cooking utensil of choice when it comes to eliminating pesky swingers with one fell swoop), and instead shoots him in the face with a shotgun (my kind of woman). The picnic guy is killed in a more spontaneous fashion, as he's rewarded with a knife to the stomach (complete with projectile blood vomit). Either way, both are an excellent showcase for Debi's stems: the swinger gets to see them encased in a luscious pair of black silk stockings, and the picnicker gets to rub suntan lotion all over them in the light of day.
Somewhat apprehensive about dating the short-haired goddess, Joe tells the audience, "Sure, she was gorgeous and she didn't like grapes. But come on, a manicurist?" Nonetheless, they agree to dinner, a movie, and a manicure ("a manicure is the best way to end an evening"). After the movie at the drive-in is over (this scene, by the way, has a funny bit about Taiwanese plastic forks), the two go to his place to assumedly engage in sexual intercourse. Well, actually, Joe was planning on killing her. But instead, confesses to Kate that he is in fact a psychokiller. Yet, to his surprise, he has no desire to kill her. The scene's adorableness, which is already at the breaking point, gets even more adorable when Kate tells Joe that she's psychokiller as well, and like Joe, does not want to kill him, either.
After their body disposing discussion runs its inevitable course (while he likes to chop his victim's up into little pieces, she prefers to toss her's in rivers, in dumpsters, or wherever is convenient - Hello, New Jersey Turnpike!), Joe and Kate decide to continue seeing one another ("I'm so glad I found you"), and, of course, stick with the murdering. Seriously, just because they don't want to murder each other, doesn't mean they're going to stop murdering others.
Now murdering as a couple, Joe over poisons a woman in a sauna and Kate kills some random dude with a chainsaw as synthesizer music throbs effectively on the soundtrack. All of a sudden, the camera starts to slowly pan up a pair of shapely legs. Who's legs are these, I wondered. Electra-wow! They belong to none other than LeeAnne Baker! You know, the actress who played the Pleasure Droid in Mutant Hunt. And, get this, it looks like she just walked off the set of Future-Kill, as her face is covered with globs of irregular make-up.
While it's obvious that LeeAnne Baker, who is credited as "Heavy Metal Girl," is going to be Joe's next victim, I didn't seem to mind. Instead of bemoaning the fact LeeAnne's presence in the Psychos in Love universe is probably going to be short-lived, I have decided to celebrate the little amount of time she has onscreen; treat it like the gift that it is. Of course, given that LeeAnne Baker is one of the most compelling actresses of her generation, she was able to make a lasting impression as the spiky-haired metal groupie with an alarming ease. Whether uttering inquisitive lines of scripted dialogue pertaining to coitus and cocaine, or singing the lyrics to vulgar heavy metal songs, LeeAnne Baker displays a wonderful sense of comic timing, which is an essential skill to have when acting alongside Carmine Capobianco, who, despite the fact that a lot of what he says in this movie was groan-worthy, is no slouch when it comes to delivering the funny.
I think most people will agree that it will take more than a cannibalistic plumber (Frank Stewart), a video store membership, Eric Lutes from TV's Caroline in the City (he plays a mechanic with dirty fingernails), Lum Chang Pang's alcoholism, and a thousand cans of Diet Slice to prevent Joe and Kate's love from changing into the warped butterfly it was always meant to be. In order to commemorate the majesty of their love, a montage is created. And not just any montage, this one comes fully equipped with one of the most maddeningly addictive songs ever created. In case you haven't figured it out yet, the song I'm talking about the theme from Psychos in Love, as sung by actor, writer, composer Carmine Capobianco and actress/costume designer Debi Thibeault (yeah, that's right, on top of being a leggy delight, she's the film's costume designer as well). Clawing its way into your brain and refusing to leave no matter how much Nitzer Ebb you spray on it, the film's theme song proves once and for all that you need to make a catchy song are some deadpan lyrics about hating grapes and a properly motivated Yamaha RX-15 drum machine.
Even the most stable of unstable relationships has its ups and downs, and Joe and Kate are no different in that regard. While a chatty yoga instructor named Heather, played by the alluring Donna Davidge, is talking about her aura, Joe realizes that he's just not that into killing anymore. He tries to re-energize his homicidal tendencies by bringing home Susan (Ruth Collins), a stripper Joe is thinking about hiring–you know, so that both of them can kill her as a couple–but she's too tired. It was interesting to see ennui portrayed from the perspective of a couple of psychopaths. Nevertheless, just because their first attempt at a threesome failed so miserably, doesn't mean they're gonna stop trying. Bringing home a stripper they're more familiar with, Joe and Kate (who is dressed in her sexiest lingerie yet) try again with Nikki, but ultimately end up killing her four times, or wait, was it five? It doesn't matter. What does matter, however, is that Joe and Kate are losing their killer instinct, and losing it fast.
Regaining their itch–albeit, briefly–when Kate stabs a weatherman in the eye with one of her manicure tools and Joe slashes the throat of a woman who spoke with an accent that sounded vaguely familiar, but it's still fading. Getting back to the woman with the accent that sounded vaguely familiar for a second. Curious to know where I had heard that mellifluous voice before, I decided to check out the rest of her filmography. And you won't believe what I found. Her named is Kate McCamy and she played "Dottie" in Bad Girls Dormitory. You remember her, she delivers the classic line, "Don't make me get up. If I do, I'll be twisting some tits"with a saucy assuredness. At any rate, the reason I didn't recognize her was because she looked totally different. In the Tim Kincaid-directed, Manhattan set women in prison flick, she's got spiky red hair and is wearing hardly any make-up, whereas in the Waterbury, Connecticut set Psychos in Love, she's all dolled up like a Long Island princess, or, to put it another way, a vision of Massapequan loveliness.
Since killing sprees don't last forever, can Joe and Kate's relationship survive without murder? It's a question that all serial killing couples will have to answer at some point during their marriage. Oh, didn't I mention? They get hitched; you should have seen the honeymoon (a wild night of clubbing, complete with Liquid Sky-style dancing, and fishnet stockings). Anyway, Psychos in Love tries to answer this probing question, and I think it ultimately succeeded in the end. I don't know 'bout you, but I felt enriched, even, dare I say, moved by the experience.
