Almost impossible to describe how bad this film is

"I Love Your Phillip Morris": How do we even begin to discuss how bad it is? It would be easy just to dismiss this mess of a movie with a throwaway line: it proves once and for all that movies about gay conmen/lovers/prisoners can be just as horrible as movies about straight conmen/lovers/prisoners. A big step toward equality on screen. This Jim Carrey vehicle reels about from comedy to pathos and hits none of the notes correctly. It's told in the first person, Carrey narrating the story of his life as a con man and impostor, a story apparently based on a real person's life and memoir, but with who knows with how much embellishment? Lot of parallels here to Catch Me If You Can, by no means a great movie but Citizen Kane compared with Philip Morris. In Catch, the hero is likable and fun and charming, in this one he's odious and cruel and selfish - but I guess we're supposed to be laughing at Carrey's jaunty behavior and faux naivete (a much older version of The Truman Show, with Carey now seeming idiotic as he greets coworkers). One scene after another is preposterous - the sex scenes, his childhood flashbacks, his meeting his birth mother, on and on. Then the movie becomes a gay Shawshank: Hey, prison can be a lot of fun if you're a gay guy, right? Insane. Out of prison, Carrey/Steven Russell dupes a lot of rubes improbably, but with no levity, no sense of fun. Then it becomes a tearful Philadelphia story, all would be OK if Carrey could maintain his relation with the much-wronged eponymous Phillip, but we don't believe a moment of it, nor do we care a moment for either character. This film is beyond hope.