Rub & Tug (2002)

One of my all time favorites.

Must See Movie...

Blistering performances.

Each character in this movie — down to the smallest one — is an individual rather than a type, prone to spontaneous changes of mood and sometimes amusing outbursts of pettiness or ill humor.

I'm afraid this one is pretty dreadful, despite several good performances and generally competent acting-for-the-camera direction. It's a first and last attempt by writer-director Soo Lyu. "Rub and Tug" (2002) is one of the unfortunate by-products of Canada's program to promote home-grown film-making. While the program encourages worthwhile efforts like "New Waterford Girl" it opens the door for untalented novices like Lyu who did not have to aggressively pitch this project but was green-lighted without an adequate examination of her script or her credentials. You don't mind the low budget because the shabby production design, bad lighting, poor audio, and dreary docu-style shot selection is consistent with the subject matter; the workers in Canadian massage parlors. But the dialogue and the plotting doesn't give the actors anything to work with, the editor much to assemble, or a viewer any mental challenge other than suspension of disbelief. When your story is this simplistic the last thing you need is a muddled storytelling technique; even though nothing happens, the movie is hard to follow and point-of-view impossible to pin down. Don McKellar's performance as Conrad is several notches below his similar characterization in "Exotica". Lindy Booth's Lea is her standard quirky airhead; as always she is likable but here she is little else. Kira Clavell's Cindy is a pleasant surprise, a kind of Asian Shelley Duval. The only other role of any consequence, Tara Spencer-Nairn's street-wise Betty, more than cancels out her excellent performance in "New Waterford Girl". Her shallow performance in "Rub and Tug" should curtail any tendency to seek out other films in which she has appeared; unless you need further confirmation of "Waterford" director Alan Moyle's skill in working with young actors. You quickly conclude that Lyu's reptilian brain cannot grasp concepts like plot complexity, so the need to insert a lazy and lame "deus ex machina" device toward the end is hardly a surprise. Still it could be worse, the listless story has so little internal logic anyway that the unlikely ending is not as painful as would normally be the case. Then again, what do I know? I'm only a child.

Spoilers herein.Folded film: the performance of the movie and the performance of the girls in the movie. A simple fold, typical of a film school project. It ends with another fold, an additional performance.Another project that has an intelligent idea behind it, but without the skills to make it happen. Nice try. But should have switched it around so that Lindy was the redhead.Ted's Evaluation -- 1 of 3: You can find something better to do with this part of your life.

Seems to be a very true-to-life portrayal of life in a body rub parlor. The movie tries not to be judgemental about the work these women do, but does present it from their point of view. A lot of daily challenges, of going far enough without going too far, keeping it legal, etc.Don McKellar was brilliant as the nerdy manager of the parlor, who seemed to be in way over his head with this job. He gradually got very good at this job in a big way.There's a very twisted humorous ending that came out of nowhere. Extremely imaginative. It sort of kept true to the nature of these people, where nothing is as it seems on the surface.

Rub & Tug is promoting itself as a real account of life in the seedy body rub parlors of Toronto. Director and co-screenwriter Soo Lyu spent a year researching the project, but there is none of the grit you would expect from a movie that explores the underbelly of the sex trade. Instead Rub & Tug is a starkly clean, sanitized look at three women who work in that hazy area between masseuse and prostitute - a sexual sitcom. There have been steamier episodes of Three's Company. Don McKellar as the conniving parlor manager acquits himself with his usual bumbling charm, although isn't given enough to do. The same goes for parlor employees Lindy Booth, Tara Spencer-Nairn and Kira Clavell, who fumble through the predictable material. Lyu imbues the script with the concept that sex workers aren't victims, and we shouldn't pity them. The trouble is we don't really care about these characters, so the whole thing falls flat.