In general, a film in which the protagonist exalts his friend on a city sidewalk, raising his arms to the sky and proclaiming, “You’ve worked your magic on me, and I’ll never be the same again!” should not be seen by anyone. Cowboys & Angels, the sophomoric freshman feature from David Gleeson, is no exception. A vanilla-bland civil servant meets his fabulously gay flatmate and decides, with an embarrassing lack of subtlety, that art school is the key to existential fulfillment. Ostensibly a less colorful, feature-length Queer Eye, the film also examines the apparent social trichotomy of modern Ireland, where you’re either a fashion designer, a drug dealer, or a complete square.
This article from the Village Voice Archive was posted on September 7, 2004