Lost in Adaptation

My mistake. I finished reading "Running with Scissors" a week before I saw the movie version. Somehow, the filmmakers were able to Hollywoodize this John Waters-esque tale about a manic-depressive mother, alcoholic father, and gay son. The book's tone is relentlessly devoid of self-pity, finger-pointing, and sappy emotions. The same, however, cannot be said of the flick. All the actors deserve an A+ (except for Gwyneth Paltrow who ekes by with a D+ performance), but the heart-tugging scenes truly ring false. My advice: to enjoy the movie, don't read the book.