Not really a movie, exactly; it’s a filmed performance of three short plays/monologues by Neil LaBute.   I’ve defended LaBute in the past, but his apparent need to flay the skin off human nature for the audience is beginning to weary me, and I didn’t love the casting of this, except for Ron Eldard, who went completely native with the creepy and did a great job.   Still, all of them had trouble selling parts of the stories, especially Paul Rudd, who seemed way overmatched.   Maybe it’s the venue, but a lot of it felt like the director had coached them a little too far with the diaphragm breathing or something; it got awfully shouty in spots and that didn’t work for the material.   But what I know about the theater wouldn’t fill a thimble, so…

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