This 2002 film is emphatically not one of those movies. It is instead one of the strangest films I've enjoyed (more or less) in a while. Kathy Bates plays a bored and boring woman whose husband leaves her just as her singing idol (think Barry Manilow/Elvis/Liberace) is killed on the day she was to see him in person.
It becomes a strange quest for the killer, accompanied by the dead guy's lover (Rupert Everett) and a dwarf in a red raincoat. Don't ask. It is, of course, also a search for self on the part of all these characters, with a moral of being accepted for who you are. That's broader than the obvious lesson here that homosexuality is not a reason to ostracize someone, as the singer and his lover have been.
Kathy Bates is not particularly good in this role. I like her better when she's loud and assured. Her timidity here seems off. Julie Andrews makes an occasional appearance, singing in bizarre situations. But it's the strangeness that makes the film compelling. You keep watching to see what they'll come up with next.
What they come up with is not always good and sometimes is awful. At one point Everett is attempting to yank a gun out of his sequined pants through the fly and his pulling is made to look like he's jerking off in a deserted parking garage. It just isn't necessary. The constantly fluctuating tone of the film makes me think it was written by committee and adds uncertainty to the bizarre events.
The only thing that isn't surprising is that this film was released straight to DVD, instead of making it to theaters.