The Plot:
Three individuals – three different views of perceived self-importance.

Jody George is a famous tennis player, prone to angry antisocial outbursts and rude, crude comments. After finally achieving the number one ranking in the world, his life is shattered by rumors of fling with a past opponent – a MALE opponent.

Sophie – one name, like Cher, or Madonna – is faced with a typical business day from hell. She must complete her proposed music video, finish her tax returns, redesign her entire clothing line and prepare her upcoming audition for a role in Cats. Her assistant J believes she is merely deluding herself.

George, the supervisor of a local animal shelter, fields calls from cranks and concerned clients, all the while conversing with his imaginary friend – a six foot beagle named Mr. Peepers. When the city calls telling him that his request for an administrative assistant has been approved, George's inner life is thrown for a loop.

All three are struggling with notions of notoriety. All three believe themselves to be essential and influential. All three may be deluded. All three may be Fame Whores.

The DVD:
Fame Whore is an experiment in tone disguised as an uneven indie comedy. It features characters that are simultaneously irritating and ingratiating, and walks such a fine line between observant and obscure that its cinematic feet must be permanently creased. Written, produced and directed by Jon Moritsugu (creator of the notoriously average Scumrock) this 1997 effort mixes a real eye and ear for detail with a clever, occasionally cloying style to try and tell a trio of thematically similar stories. The title aspects are best highlighted by Sophie, an heiress with an uncontrollable desire to career multitask. She is so desperate to be a celebrity that she already imagines herself one. The tie to tennis ace Jody George is a little more problematic. As a rich, high profile athlete, his fame is a given. But when accusations of homosexuality start to plague him, the notion of courting stardom seems stymied, almost unnecessary to the narrative. And how our hallucinating dog pound director fits into the overall premise is a question that Moritsugu himself will have to answer. George's puppy problems give the impression of being inserted for their inherent insanity, nothing more.

Still, there is some wonderfully effective material here. Victor Fischbarg, billed as 'Victor of Aquitaine" here, puts on his best Crispin Glover goofiness to give George an endearing quality that makes his mental manifestation (some dude in a beagle outfit) all the more acceptable. Sure, many of his phone conversations are easy sophomoric jokes, and his confrontation with a fur-wearing strumpet de-evolves into typical PETA rhetoric, but Fischbarg makes us believe in his character's cracked view. Similarly, Amy Davis's deluded Sophie is a sensational John Waters-esque riff on the talent and clue less. The banter between this narcissistic nothing and her spoiled, fey assistant sounds like outtakes from Female Trouble, and Davis consistently invents ways – monotone speaking style, blank as a fart facial expressions – to make her self-important stooge stand out. Sadly, the character of Jody George is rather annoying, mostly due to the fact that the tennis star constantly refers to himself in the third person ("Jody George would never do that") and brags nonstop about feminine conquests he's probably never had. Instead of giving us insight into life at the highest levels of success, Peter Friedrich's player merely comes across as a jerk.

Other problems derive directly from Moritsugu's scripting. Since the three stories never link up – George doesn't read about the accusations against Jody, Sophie does not decide to head down to the shelter to adopt a pet – we are left with a triptych of totally separate stories. This means each segment must be strong enough to exist on its own or the whole thing suffers. Oddly enough, the storyline featuring the weakest character – Jody George – ends up having the most complete narrative. What happens after the player is 'outed' may seem extreme, but it does represent how some people would react to such a stigmatization. Similarly, Sophie's struggles seem to be building toward some manner of anarchic apex, but the finale is just flat. It doesn't do any of the antics we've seen before the least bit of justice. George, unfortunately, has the most incomplete plotting of all. Aside from a series of ever-sillier vignettes meant to show how disconnected this addled adult really is, the point of the story seems to merely fade away. Whatever he was attempting with such an omnibus approach, Moritsugu doesn't quite work out all the kinks. He gets parts of his chronicle right, and yet falters when it comes to a completed big picture. Fame Whore is a decent, disarming little effort. Too bad it couldn't find a way to bring all of its elements together effectively.

The Video:
Though obviously shot on film, this DVD presentation of this title is third generation VHS dub dreadful. We are treated to dirt, scratches, flat colors and what appears to be a VCR quality 1.33:1 full screen transfer. While this may be some manner of artistic decision on the director's part (de-saturate the color, avoid clarifying the image digitally) the result is a fairly crappy carry-over to the new home theater medium.

The Audio:
Rather unimpressive and tinny, the mix of Fame Whore is merely tolerable. The Dolby Digital 2.0 doesn't have much to do, and even when Moritsugu tries something tricky (voice-over narrative, telephone calls) the aural elements frequently get lost in the overall sonic dynamic. All dialogue is discernible, and the bad/rad punk music used as an underscore sounds excellent. But there is no ambiance to this auditory offering. The results are lifeless and limp.

The Extras:
None, and to tell the truth, it's hard to see how piling on the added content would improve the quality of the featured film itself. While a commentary, or a collection of actor Q&A's would have been nice, they are not necessary for understanding what Moritsugu had in mind. His motives are readily apparent all throughout Fame Whore.

Final Thoughts:
With more than enough wit to carry us over the stagy, sloppier passages and a real appreciation for the unusual and the obscure, director Moritsugu and his fascinating Fame Whore easily earn a Recommended rating. For film fans who demand a more cogent narrative structure, or anyone unable to connect with self-absorbed, socially retarded characters, this is definitely not the film for you. While any message may be missing in a rambling, insular plotting approach that keeps us from really connecting with the individuals onscreen, we still find ourselves identifying with their personal plights, and suffering/celebrating right along. It is clear that as Moritsugu matured, his desire to make likeable films became a lesser aesthetic priority. Scumrock was nothing but ersatz art as aggravation. Fame Whore is far more successful. As indie offerings go, its better than most, yet still mired in cinematic issues that make the genre the unpopular pariah that most film fans feel it is.

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