Sonny (2002)

Some people are born into it. Think of the young Rockefellers, the later-day Kennedys, the chick in high school whose dad made all that money in waste removal. By an accident of birth, these lucky youths were set smack in the middle of what the rest of us must strive a lifetime even to approach. The same can be said for actor Nicolas Cage, whose family showbiz connections certainly enhanced his career access. It is fitting, then, that Cage’s directorial debut should come with Sonny (2002), a film about a regular guy who just so happens to have been raised in a New Orleans bordello that his mother owns. Talk about luck! And still the guy wants to break away from this life of promiscuous sex and easy money. Such ineffable mysteries of human nature are the stuff of great drama and also of Sonny. James Franco turns in a skinnariffic performance as a male prostitute, and well, what’s he going to wear on the job but nothing at all. Thought the camera does quite a bit of skilled bobbing and weaving to avoid filming his manmeat, you do get to see every other part of that delicious Franco sandwich.