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March 04, 2006
So with the impending release of Basic Instinct 2, I've been traveling down memory lane, fondly recalling the Joe Eszterhas glory days of the mid-90s. The world is definitely a better place because Joe Eszterhas movies exist. (The question of whether Sharon Stone looks too wrecked to appear in an erotic thriller in 2006 is, however, still very much open.) Primarily, we had Jade, Sliver, and Showgirls, three movies that sent critics' heads spinning. These movies, however, have stood some sort of test of time with their own twisted--albeit almost unwatchable--beauty. (A discussion of the tidal wave of bad non-Eszterhas Basic Instinct rip-offs from the 90s--Guilty As Sin, Malice, Color of Night, Consenting Adults, Body of Evidence--will have to wait for another day.)
The world has not been so kind to fans of Jade. The movie, which was part of the monumentally unsuccessful year-long big-screen roll-out of David Caruso after he left NYPD Blue, completely bombed in its initial release. Although Paramount put out a 13-minute-longer director's version on VHS, the DVD is full screen and only the theatrical cut, hardly the presentation you'd want for an overproduced, would-be sleek thriller. However, I've watched both cuts within the last week and am happy to report that all the things that made me laugh in 1995 are still funny 11 years later. We've got every possible Eszterhas cliche, from respectable high-society wife Linda Fiorentino turning out to be a high-priced callgirl, to Richard Crenna as the governor of California appearing in ineptly photoshopped blackmail photos with Angie Everhart. (click for the best soundbite from the film) The movie is completely useless as a thriller, as it turns out that several different people did the murders, so guessing who the killer is won't help. Also, much like Sliver, the actual perpetrators are obvious from near the beginning of the movie. It's a bold new vision of the screen mystery when your prime red herring character actually turns out to be the killer. As an exercise in pointless style and/or a comedy, the movie succeeds, if only because William Friedkin, evidently still convinced he's directing The Exorcist, gives us hilarious split-second "subliminal" jump cuts and overblown line readings that make the audience laugh out loud. I can't decide whether the theatrical cut, which is incomprehensible at 94 minutes, is improved by the 13 extra minutes of the VHS version. It certainly explains some of the more inexplicable things about the theatrical version, but do we really want more exposition in this movie? Bonus points go to whatever music editor tracked in the ridiculous music, including lengthy passages from Stravinsky's "The Rite of Spring," the Enigma-esque stylings of Loreena McKennitt, and a chintzy last-second score by James Horner. |