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I just want to know: how did American director Wallace Potts go from dating Rudolf Nureyev to making this French gay art film to writing and directing Psycho Cop??
Regardless of how it came about, Potts' sole French feature is a good one -- a narcissistic self-portrait of Parisian hustler Karl Forest that fits somewhere between Peter Berlin's Nights in Black Leather and the Joe Dallesandro trilogy by Paul Morrissey. Forest's backstory is fairly rote, but Potts' reconstruction of it is anything but, using a set of audio interviews as the grounding for a series of increasingly stylized fantasy vignettes that are as weirdly funny as they are clever. The finale -- a solo featuring Forest, a mirror, and one of his interview tapes playing on a reel-to-reel deck -- is kind of an indelible depiction of pure narcissism.