A perfectly titled film, since the fleeting mid-story appearance of Antonio Sabato Jr.'s cock was apparently all that was necessary to vacuum cash out of gay male film goers' wallets and into the box offices of gay and lesbian film festivals the world over. Though not without other merits, this watered-down version of James Robert Baker's novel, which was about a man left HIV-positive by his fleet-footed lover, who he then pursues to Argentina. The pesky retrovirus has been cut out of this light rom-com completely, and replaced with charismatic performances from Jennifer Coolidge and the majestic Sonia Braga but, really, not a great deal else.

Dean (David Sutcliffe), a graphic novelist, meets Pablo (Sabato Jr.) and they have a nine month affair. Pablo goes out one night for cigarettes, and never comes back. After encountering Pablo's imperious mother (Braga) at an LA art exhibition, Dean flies to Argentina, and the rest of the film follows his rather dreary attempts to track Dean down. Along the way, we forms a friendship with waitress Sofia (Celina Font), and has an affair with Marcos (Leonardo Brzezicki) who just happens to be a childhood friend of Pablo.

I've never been to Buenos Aires, but if I did ever have the fortune to visit, the first thing I wouldn't expect from a sophisticated conurbation of 12 million people is the Buenos Aires of this film, which is a city so provincial that basically everyone knows everyone else, no-one speaks anything but the most stilted, cartoonishly-accented English, and that every Argentine - man, woman, gay, straight, old, young - is a "Latin Firecracker" style personality that wears nothing but red, is always ready to toss their hair in a dramatic way and resentfully put visiting Americans in their place. Further, I wouldn't walk around speaking English to all and sundry, I'd at least learn the Spanish for "Sorry, I only speak English" or at least let the locals speak to me first.

But I didn't write this screenplay, and so had to progressively lose interest in the arrogant Dean's behaviour as a foreigner abroad, and the two-dimensional Argentinian characters and cartoon soap opera they seem to inhabit. At one point, Dean asks if there are any "jeepneys" around so he can whiz back to his hotel. Taxi cabs are plentiful in Buenos Aires, Dean, and if you're that irritated and unimpressed by a country you're holidaying in, change tack or return home altogether. Unfortunately for my travel plans, the locals as presented in this film veer from bloody boring and untrustworthy talking about nothing but sex and jealousy - and not in a good way, either - and all working as waitstaff or hustlers. Did you know that all Argentinian men are openly bisexual sex addicts? This film will teach you that. Also, there's apparently nothing to see in Buenos Aires, apart from the inside of apartments and one or two bustling back streets filmed in tight mid shot. Couldn't we have have gone inside at least one tango club, or had just one shot of the Avenue Corrientes at night? What a waste.

So exactly why the HIV angle was ditched is anyone's guess, as nothing seems to have been brought in to replace it. The entire middle hour of the 100-minute film consists of absolutely, honestly, nothing more than a string of scenes between Dean, Marcos and Sofia who try their hardest to create sexual tension and wit between themselves, but try ultimately in vain. Marcos talks about his dead ancestors for no apparent reason, Sofia stamps out cigarettes and firecracks all over the place, and as for Dean, he continues to ask where he can find Pablo. For no apparent reason, every now and then one character will point a loaded gun at one of the other characters and a bumbling, no doubt corrupt, local cop will arrive on the scene.

Blah blah blah, Sabato Jr. flashes his cock (now I know why he's called "Junior") and we wait for Coolidge or Braga to reappear, which, unfortunately, they hardly ever do. The inertia of the film is at odds with the hormone of its title, and David Sutcliffe, who looks like Russell Crowe crossed with Guy Pearce, floats around in a Valium-haze and leaves us wondering how he'd snag a boyfriend in the first place, let alone have the motivation to chase an escaped one halfway around the world.