A campy crime/love story intersects with random vignettes from the lives of various hustlers on Santa Monica boulevard. The protagonist, a pretty and altogether amoral dumbster hustler, robs a hippy trick and steals his car, running over and maiming a skinhead in the process. A prissy writer comes to the city and becomes obsessed with the same hustler. They get together, talk about the history of hustling on the boulevard and end up snogging on the beach (after a near fatal jacuzzi accident & miraculous resurrection). The surrounding vignettes are more outré, with a singing cowboy saddling and riding a young stud, s&m mortician snuffing out an amputee and a white twink "raped" by half a dozen hung black men. All in a day's work seems to be the moral.
A postmodern plunge into some pretty disconnected lives, with references to Warhol, Baby Jane and Sunset Boulevard thrown in for good measure.
A postmodern plunge into some pretty disconnected lives, with references to Warhol, Baby Jane and Sunset Boulevard thrown in for good measure.