Former pop singer, now living in Los Angeles in the 1960s, is suspiciously defensive over memories of her now-deceased twin sister; she wages a series of battles with her estranged husband, hateful daughter, gay son, tippling maid and an overly-curious gigolo while bodies start piling up. Self-conscious, self-reverential camp comedy, based on the kind of play that brings down the house in hip urban dives, has its tongue too far in cheek. Playwright and star Charles Busch, a built-like-a-brick diva, gives himself the juiciest lines but doesn't seem to realize the funniest movies in the camp-genre are ones which don't realize just how over-the-top they are (camp, per se, is best served accidentally). This piece does have some very funny lines (such as Busch's Bette Davis-like "I'm clearin' out the deadwood!"), a great acid-trip sequence, but a reedy murder-mystery plot with a severe case of "Dead Ringer"-itis. **1/2 from ****
Review of Die, Mommie, Die!
