Paul Verhoeven has created a masterwork from Joe Eszterhas' controversial script. Several sex scenes become a leitmotif, as the participants appear to pummel, rather than love, one another with their nether parts. But the most rugged and the most erotic scene occurs between Detective Nick Curran, Michael Douglas, and his colleague, Beth Garner, portrayed by Jeanne Tripplehorn. He throws her against a wall and then against the back of a chesterfield. That is only the foreplay. In this film sex is violence, and that is Verhoeven's theme. But there is more. Sharon Stone as Catherine Tramell has a beautiful blonde form in that Beach Boy / California girl manner. She plays her 'flashing' scene in the police interrogation room with wit and a touch of class. Throughout the film she is arch, intelligent, electric. Her foil, Nick Curran, a troubled detective, realizes she might be a murderer, but finds her personality and her allure, irresistible. Douglas' performance is driven, masculine, affecting ... yet he would be well advised to keep his trousers on henceforth, for his sagging bottom is simply too comical. There are several echoes of Alfred Hitchcock's Vertigo (58). Both pictures have as a setting the picturesque San Francisco area. Jerry Goldsmith's music recalls Bernard Herrmann's symphonic score. The stairwell in Curran's apartment building resembles the vertiginous staircase of the Mission bell tower. And as with Hitchcock the dialogue is often simultaneously risque and humorous, although more vulgar in keeping with the tenor of modern times. Eszterhas' script is carefully crafted, and it does not cheat. Life proves ambiguous at many levels, and so does art. The mystery is dark; the action, including a car chase, thrills; and the locale continually shifts, from a cop station to Catherine's lovely seaside house to a colorful bar where Catherine's jealous female lover and Curran engage in a sensual battle for her charms. Day, night, sun, rain, streets, highways, scenery, ocean, sex, emotion, confrontations, death ... the film envelops everything, perhaps even love. Here, Verhoeven, Eszterhas, Douglas, Stone, have achieved some screen magic of the past.
Basic Instinct 2
It's not like I have overwhelmingly fond memories of Verhoeven's original pants-down shocker - it always struck me as a glossy, well-made airport-novel-of-a-movie. Thrilling, sexy trash, but trash nonetheless. It was also a film that tapped into a certain sexual zeitgeist. After a decade of anti-sex AIDS-induced hysteria, a film about a wildly-sexual hotbod who thrill-kills to heighten her sexual pleasure was pretty enticing stuff. Basic Instinct 2 was always going to struggle to provide the same social relevance and immediacy, so the fact that it's desperate attempts at raunchiness are so lame can sort-of be overlooked. All it really had to provide was that thin veneer of titillation and a mildly engaging story and all would have been watchable. That it resoundingly fails on so many levels, and in such a way to be a career nadir for everyone involved, is really quite extraordinary to watch. Let's state the obvious for starters - Sharon Stone is too old for the part of sexual magnet Catherine Trammell. What was so photogenic thru Verhoeven's lens looks like mutton dressed as lamb in the hands of gun-for-hire Michael Caton-Jones, who's flat, drab colours and static camera render her undeniable beauty totally moot. I like Sharon Stone a lot, but if the first film launched her career, BI2 could kill it. She has no chemistry with stuffed-shirt David Morrissey - their only sex scene is embarrassing too watch. His dough-faced mamma's boy of a character made me yearn for the swaggering, orange-skin machismo of Michael Douglas. Supporting turns by David Thewlis and Charlotte Rampling waste these fine actors on talky exposition scenes and cliché-heavy posturing. And what of the much-touted sexual shenanigans? Poorly-lit, fleetingly-glimpsed, as utterly mainstream as an episode of Desperate Housewives - the European sensibilities that Verhoeven brought to the sexual content of the first film are sorely missed. Don't watch this film for carnal thrills - there are none and what there is is tragic. The film is, as a whole, convoluted to the point of utter confusion, boring and laughable. The last 40 minutes in particular, where you come to the realisation that the film is, in fact, not going to go anywhere of interest at all, are particularly gruelling and hilarious in equal measure. As a failed sequel, Basic Instinct 2 will come to occupy similar cinematic ground as Exorcist 2 The Heretic, Beyond The Poseidon Adventure and XXX2. As a vanity project, it rivals Battlefield Earth in its misconception. As a multi-million dollar piece of Hollywood film-making, it's a travesty that will be hard to top as the years worst.
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Sunday, December 28, 2008
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