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By
Giacomo Tramontagna
Tomorrow Will Come
Rating: 2 Stars
Directed by Sam Abdul. Starring Gregg Rockwell, Dino DiMarco, Brad Hunter, Lucas James, Anthony Mengetti, Juan Antonio, Eduardo, Bruno Bianchi, and Leonardo.
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Glum, sad-eyed Gregg Rockwell, disconsolate and horny, flops around in shortie denim overalls that look like a toddler's playsuit. He hopes the man of his dreams is just around the corner, but he's living in
the past. Two years ago he was traumatized when his lover (Brad Hunter) walked out, perhaps fed up with his whining. Their relationship "wasn't perfect," he tells us in a droning voice-over, "but it sure seemed right." He goes
on agonizing about his sex life, or lack of one, in excruciating, half-audible detail, but you can always kill the sound.
The sex in this lugubrious outing is mostly provided by the Rockwell character's friends, who don't seem to mind taking time out between tricks to listen to him
kvetch. Dino DiMarco and Eduardo have an acrobatic fling in DiMarco's exercise room. Bruno Bianchi shares soapy bliss with newcomer Leonardo in a bathroom. Lucas James invites a couple he met in an Internet chat room (Juan Antonio and Anthony Mengetti)
over to his house for a three-way. Rockwell, however, only has sex inside his head: we're treated to an uninspiring reminiscence of the first time he and Hunter made tepid whoopee. Although some of the performers in
Tomorrow Will Come appear to be enjoying themselves, or trying to, the Rockwell character sets the tone. Before the end of the first half hour, you may long for one of his improbably patient buddies to give him a good swift kick.
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