Long and tedious, dull and boring. This seems to be the qualifiers for some independent films these days and "Particles of Truth" is the mark of how these descriptors fit. It is difficult enough to to act, much less direct, write, and "star" and Jennifer Estler is the major problem with the film. Delegate or hire. Although the disjointed stories are meant to intertwine with one cogent story emerging, the blunt edits jump between lost in Yonkers and angst amid the concrete streets of inhospitable New York. The characters themselves are less worthy of self-pity as to simply ignore them as too dysfunctional to bother with an intervention. An artist with a rough childhood, her father dying of Aids, an OCD writer, a failed architect, his wife with breast cancer, one lousy mother, alousy grandmother, and a born-again clinging room mate with a bully boyfriend. None of the stories has sufficient merit to warrant the time to sit through this film. <br /><br />In need of several edits and possibly a director who is not wearing too many hats, "Particles of Truth" strains to bring forth any form of truth. With the exception of Gale Harold of "Street Time" and "Queer as Folk," performances are less that attention-grabbing although some might find this kind of film a style of restrained acting worthy of note. It's not. <br /><br />While actors don't bump into the furniture, they don't bump into other characters and thus, the film fails to hit a cohesive tempo. On initial viewing I kept waiting for the actors and action to hit stride, on second viewing, the film took on an altogether student film quality. I'll pass on the third viewing.