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A seriously deranged dramedy about finding yourself through terrorism, Be My Oswald attempts high-wire artiness on a bargain-basement budget.
A miniscule budget is probably at least somewhat to blame for Be My Oswald's dull sets, audio in which voices are drowned out by reverb, and digital video that frequently looks worse than my MiniDV-shot home movies.
An appalling mix of bird-brained satire, sub-protozoan thesping, and (non-)direction.
Writer-director Don Cato's handling of what might have been an intriguingly subversive black comedy can politely be described as Grade D student filmmaking.
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