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By
Giacomo Tramontagna
Hand of Fate
Rating: 2 Stars
Produced by Scott Masters. Directed by Derek Kent. Written by Tom Walsh. Videography by Ross Cannon. Edited by Kevin M. Glover. Music by Rock Hard. Starring Richie Fine, Drew Andrews, Rod Barry,
Casey Morgan, Michael Rivera, Chris Rock, Troy Ryder, Sandy Sloane, and Aaron Wilde.
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Richie Fine has the sweetly spacy imperturbability of a young gonzo slacker in an early Richard Linklater film. He's a velvet blond with a sad little catch in his gentle, stoned-sounding voice. When he
says, "Nothing interests me," it's convincing. But his waifishness is seductive. In
Hand of Fate, he makes you want to take him in and feed him soup. When his selfish casting-agent keeper (Chris Rock) comes home with a
snotty new protégé (Rod Barry), and both treat Richie like dirt, you want to kick them.
What he does is not quite acting, but as the protagonist of this loopy porno melodrama, Fine sustains interest even when the story feels stalled. In his two sex scenes he comes to life and even changes
facial expressions. The best of these is the opening sequence, when he succeeds in talking Rock into having sex with him for the first time in three weeks. Slurping his way down Fine's slender outstretched body from armpit
to crotch, Rock brings an urgency to the scene that's missing from Fine's ultimate encounter with ranch hand Sandy Sloane, his true love. Between these two episodes there's a silly plot in which Fine is pointed toward self-
realization by a psychic (Troy Ryder). It's a measure both of Fine's appeal and the shortcomings of the sudsy narrative that when a four-man orgy breaks out in the psychic's antique-filled waiting room, you may feel
cheated by Fine's absence.
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