A sweetly optimistic same-sex love story with a mass-murder subplot, “Beverly Kills” answers the burning question, “Do muscular, naked young men performing delectably silly musical numbers belong in such a movie?” with a resounding “Gosh, you bet!” Rambunctious tale of an aging drag queen who vows revenge on greater Hollywood when she’s not cast in Pride Playhouse’s youthful revue, “Balls Out!”, is gung-ho yet basted in irony. Writer-helmer Damion Dietz’s follow-up to campy delight “Fag Hag” (2000) flags a bit here and there, but anyone sympathetic to the Rainbow Flag is unlikely to mind.
To get back at those unable to appreciate her alleged talents, fortysomething Beverly Jackson (Gary Kelley) starts a cult of deadly “celebrity” impersonators. Typical touches include a flaky broad whose audition song is “I’m Gonna Fuck My Way to the Top” and a dancer who speaks no English but is named Strip (“after John Travolta’s character in ‘Moment by Moment'”). Closing credits relay amusing fates, concluding with the sensible disclaimer that “the people, places, and events were fake. Everything was a coincidence.”