Commencing with a crotch shot before launching into a rambunctious laundromat sex scene, Saint-Narcisse puts us on notice: Bruce LaBruce is going to take us for a ride. It’s 1972 in Montreal and gorgeous Dominic states his narcissism by snapping Polaroid selfies and gazing longingly at his own hot and hunky reflection. When he learns that his birth mother is still alive, he embarks on a quest to find her. Not only does he discover her living with another woman, but he also learns that he has a twin brother Daniel who’s serving as a whipping boy-toy for a particularly depraved priest. Laying eyes on Daniel, Dominic can see the appeal. LaBruce puts his own irreverent spin on the notion of self-discovery in this occasionally twincestuous tale of doppelgängers, doppelbängers and skewed family values. Bawdy yet affectionate, ribald yet resonant, this singular redemption tale will leave you reeling until the end credits roll in this deliciously camp quest for identity.