I reckon Randy Quaid hits the nail on the head quite well here as his frequently boozed-up but always bigoted “Flynn” finds himself sharing a flat with “Bill” (Eric Stoltz). This latter lad is an erudite and dapper young man who is suffering from AIDS and who earns nothing but disdain from his new room-mate. “Flynn” isn’t without his own demons, though, and despite the best efforts of his long-suffering father (Charles Durning) is a man with his own self-destructive streak. What chance they can ever even tolerate each other, much less anything else? Well, on that front it’s fairly clear from the outset what is going to happen. That’s not so important here, though. It’s the almost visceral effort from Quaid that raises the eyebrows as he really does deliver quite a remarkably convincing performance as an odious and inconsiderate man. Stoltz is far more understated with his “Bill” but that works just as well as a parry to the emotional turmoil emanating from his barely tolerable new companion. Durning and Elizabeth Peña also hold the fort well as they serve as foils for the excesses of one and the decline of another, and they also help to restrain the more sentimental elements that are often just a bit too close. Though made a good ten years after the worst of the AIDS hysteria, it still shines quite a light on the prevalent levels of ignorance that thrived even in the early 1990s; on the irrational hatred that engendered and with the subtle but effective use of dark humour now and again, it tells us a very human and touching story in a manner that is as engaging as it can be exasperating. Quite possibly Quaid’s best effort, but keep the tissues handy.