“Because circuit parties started out as AIDS fundraisers, I knew it was a controversial, provocative subject matter to depict on film. I wanted to show both sides of the circuit phenomenon. The light and the dark side. Circuit parties can be many things to many people.” - Dirk Shafer

Writer/director Dirk Shafer’s overblown 130-minute expose on circuit parties turns out a glorified mess, an amateurish R-rated After-school Special melodrama written by a dysfunctional soap opera team. It’s no surprise that many of the actors have soap opera experience.

Originally, Shafer planned to strive for the edgy tone of Boogie Nights and Trainspotting; unfortunately he is too close to the scene:

“. . . we decided that too strident a portrayal wasn’t fair to the majority of gay men who attended. Circuit parties can be many things to many people, as the film depicts.”

Therein lies the biggest weakness of Circuit—it gallantly attempts to be all things to all people to make a politically correct social statement, and forgets about being a dramatic film with any real impact. It’s no wonder that Shafer’s next film project is for MTV.
To attempt for this “objective” view of the totality of circuit parties Tad (Daniel Kucan) is selected as storyteller through parts of the film. A natural choice since Tad is a struggling filmmaker, working on a documentary about the Circuit party phenomenon, a gay Rave scene—flashing lights, loud thumping electronic House music, widespread drug and steroid use, and hundreds of gyrating body-building hunks in sweaty bare torsos at an all-night party. Sex during and afterwards in many cases.

The main character, John (Jonathan Wade-Drahos) is a former cop, who flees an unnamed Illinois town after being “outed”, to join his cousin Tad in West Hollywood. The naïve John can’t believe the openness of the gay scene in his new environment, so he eventually goes overboard into the fast paced drug-laced glamour scene after overcoming his natural reticence. Along the way, a large ensemble assembles to portray the LA Circuit. Instead of using the large cast as an elaborate Altman-esque mosaic, Shafer opts for the simplistic Aronofsky-like stereotypes that practically cue the audience to hiss the villain and scream, “Don’t use drugs!” Among the major contributors:

Hector (Andre Khabbazi): Latin hustler, primarily concerned with his age (nearing 30) physical appearance, which includes upper body workouts, steroid injections, and plastic surgery. Despite his declaration that he only engages sexually for profit, he is pre-destined to fall for John.

Gino (William Katt, TV’s “Greatest American Hero”): the manipulative party promoter, whose every action spells a.s.s.h.o.l.e. Yes, feel free to hiss this villain, a straight (of course) drug dealer, who stages AIDS benefits through Circuit parties that he knows will serve as conduits for his drugs. He even gets into life insurance scams, betting the lives of his performers to collect massive profits.

Bobby (Paul Lekakis): the video star, the guy who loves the Circuit stage, comparing the annual Palm Springs White Party to the Super Bowl of gay life. Bobby has the most painful to watch scenes with his steroid injections to his male member (one time that EVERYONE should be thankful for the cinematographer’s choice of avoiding full frontal nudity—YIKES!)

The predictable plot plods at least 40-minutes too long, and could better serve as an After School morality play on television for gays into the Circuit party scene with some cuts. The problem with that scenario is that hardly any of the intended audience would watch it without the promise of titillating sexuality, but by striving to appeal to an intended gay audience while hoping to draw a crossover audience unfamiliar with the Circuit party, the film satisfies no one fully. Boogie Nights succeeds by pushing boundaries, but Circuit fears offending, so it stops short of allowing true to life decadence and depravity.

The film isn’t helped by Wade-Drahos’ wooden acting. Protagonists should be carrying the movie instead of slowing it down. Looking like pre-accident Christopher Reeve stuffed into a Jim Carey frame, he methodically sleepwalks through his part without conveying any true emotion. But so do most of the other actors, making what happens to them irrelevant and forgettable.

Only supporting actors Warren, Kucan, and Lekakis invest moments human realism to their roles, but this is largely due to the inept screenwriting. Kucan appears more realistically because he plays a filmmaker, and Warren delivers a necessary light touch to the “drama” because her role calls for a stand-up comic—Shafer has to give her a few humorous lines. Lekakis delivers realistically during showtimes since he’s an actual pop music singer, who once frequented the Circuits.

One noticeable case of lazy film writing occurs during a scene inside Gil’s house, where DJ Justin (Tad’s new boyfriend) dons headphones to prepare for a coming show. The sound comes up, signaling a possible nice transition to the next party scene, but no—it’s to cover up the absent dialogue between Tad and Gil, who awkwardly stomp and throw cushions at each other to substitute for an angry exchange.

Other clichés dominate throughout. One especially embarrassing choice is a cover of the Jefferson Airplane’s “Go Ask Alice” during a montage of drug taking—about 40 years too late to be considered original.

Steven J. Wolfe states that he wanted to produce Circuit because “it was a hard-hitting, edgy look at a controversial social phenomenon most people were never going to personally experience but had intensely strong opinions about, pro and con.” The writing compromises the edginess of the film, but give the filmmakers credit for successfully showcasing a flamboyant world that very few people have experienced first hand.

The low budget film does get a boost from its intimate access to film on location at five jam packed circuit parties in the LA area—identified separately as Red Party, Blue Party, and Green Party. It also shoots at the three day White Party, held at the Palm Springs Convention Center over Easter weekend, allowing a Cecil B. DeMille-like cast of 10,000 dancing extras for the big finale.

The film will likely be popular in San Francisco, Atlanta, Miami, New York, and Los Angeles where large gay populations that frequent circuit parties are located. That is until word of mouth gets out on what a banal bore the preachy Circuit turns out to be. It’s moralistic enough to play at Boy Scout conventions.

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