Pact-with-the-devil pics are certainly nothing new, originating in literature with classics like Faust and The Devil and Daniel Webster and coming to the screen in forms ranging from the classic (Angel on My Shoulder) to the off-beat (Highway 61) to kiddie fodder (The Devil and Max Devlin).  Crocodile Tears is another variation on the old Faust tale, this time with a gay twist and some healthy satire that allows it to come off as a bit more original than, say, the pointless remake of Bedazzled.

    Screenwriter/producer Ted Sod stars as Simon Desoto, a gay middle-school art teacher with weird dreams.  Shortly after a drag queen friend of his commits suicide with all the dramatic flair she can muster, Simon tests positive for HIV and begins investing all his time and money in fringe and holistic cures.  A public access personality convinces Simon to write a letter to the devil, which he does, after being convinced that Elanor Roosevelt did it too.  His ex-lover Carl (“Savage Love” columnist Dan Savage) and second-hand clothing store owner Lana make him tear it up.  (“Simon, are you writing letters to Satan now?” Carl asks in a great deadpan voice)

    Unfortunately for Simon, the devil has a much more economical postal system than the U.S. Mail, and soon enough, a demon (William Salyers) is on Simon’s doorstep.  After showing Simon a videotape of himself during the contraction of the disease and several photos of his deathbound future, and then telling him he has three years before he dies of lymphoma, the pair strike a deal.  Simon must perform three tasks and he’ll be cured.

    The first of these tasks has Simon becoming a racist, sexist, homophobic comedian (“a socially acceptable form of release from your taboos” for the straight, white audience), which Simon agrees to, though he washes his mouth out with soap immediately after his first performace.  The demon and Simon’s new agent change Simon’s last name to “Seyz” (so nobody will think he’s some kind of foreigner) and force him to get married by convincing Lana that he’s turned straight.  Meanwhile, the ghost of the dead drag queen shows up to warn Simon of his impending doom.

    Simon’s life continues to get worse, and, in proper Faustian tradition, he tries to get out of the deal.  Crocodile Tears earns a good deal of respect for its’ ending—an uncompromising climax in which nobody gets off easy.  It’s a welcome relief to the finales of more similarly-themed comedies; It’s only fair that if you’re going to use deals with the devil as a plot point, getting away shouldn’t be as easy as a littler clever wordplay.

    And, yes, Crocodile Tears is a comedy, albeit a very dark one.  Sod (who also wrote the play upon which this film is based) is just as willing to poke fun at the silliness of gay culture and internalized homophobia as to point fingers at homophobic comics and anti-gay propaganda.  Serious subjects are treated with just about the right combination of respect and smirking, and a fair share of goofiness (a funeral features a musical number, and a polka band member upstairs from Simon keeps him awake at night with his practicing) keeps things from getting too morose.  The humor doesn’t always work, and during the last third the film seems to lose most of its wit, but much of the film holds up quite well.

    Simon comes off as a fatally flawed, but terribly believable character whose irritating qualities seem human.  Savage does a fine job, especially for someone known almost entirely as a writer.  Sure, some of the minor cast don’t quite pull off their parts (the character of Simon’s agent seems woefully underdeveloped), but hell, it’s clearly a low-budget flick.

    Of course, the fact that this treats HIV with some degree of humor and doesn’t chicken out in the end means that mainstream gay audiences will probably ignore it like the plague, and its’ gay content and packaging limits the number of people who would be interested in the first place.  It’s a shame, though, because Crocodile Tears is a hell of a lot more clever than 80% of the gay-themed drivel out there.