1997: The Postman.

A drifter (Kevin Costner) inspires hope by delivering mail after the apocalypse.

Release Date: Dec. 25, 1997. Running Time: 177 minutes. Screenplay: Eric Roth, Brian Helgeland. Based on the novel by: David Brin. Producer: Jim Wilson, Steve Tisch, Kevin Costner. Director: Kevin Costner.


THE PLOT:

At the turn of the 21st century, the apocalypse was triggered not by some international incident, but instead by an idiot. Nathan Holn preached for white supremacy and against democracy, and he managed to inspire a large enough following to tear down the United States of America, apparently in part by setting off nuclear devastation.

More than a decade later, in the near future year of 2013, a drifter (Kevin Costner) travels through the sparsely populated wasteland that was the American west. When he stops at the wrong town at the wrong time, he ends up pressed into the army of the "Holnists," followers of Nathan Holn's teachings led by Gen. Bethlehem (Will Patton), who has set himself up as a feudal ruler.

The drifter manages to escape. He finds the wreckage of a postal truck, with the uniformed skeleton of the postal carrier along with undelivered mail from just before the apocalypse. He takes on the role of "postman" so that he can get a meal and shelter at a nearby town. But when he spins his tale of being a postal carrier for the newly restored United States, he becomes an unlikely symbol of hope for the harried survivors.

And hope is one thing that Gen. Bethlehem isn't about to tolerate...

A prisoner of the Holnists.

KEVIN COSTNER AS THE POSTMAN:

One thing I will say for director Kevin Costner: In all three of his films, he's shown an awareness of the strengths and limitations of star Kevin Costner. He seems to recognize that he's not the best at emoting. Gen. Bethlehem makes grandiose speeches, and members of the supporting cast get emotional moments. Meanwhile, Costner mostly just reacts to events as they occur.

This is actually a good approach to the character. The "Refusing the Call" stage of The Hero's Journey? For The Postman, that's most of the movie. He adopted this persona as a con to get a meal. He indulges young Ford Lincoln Mercury (Larenz Tate) when he asks to be sworn in as a postal carrier - but he's instantly appalled when Ford declares that he would die to get a letter to its destination.

He tries at one point to disband the fledgling postal service, because he neither wants to get killed or watch his young followers die. Try though he might, however, he cannot put that genie back into the bottle. Even when he accepts this and rides to his climactic confrontation with Gen. Bethlehem, he dismisses both himself and Bethlehem as just "a couple of phonies."

Gen. Bethlehem (Will Patton) will not tolerate dissent.

OTHER CHARACTERS:

Gen. Bethlehem: The ever-reliable Will Patton leans into the post-apocalyptic silliness, chewing scenery with abandon as the villain of the piece. Bethlehem was a small man, a copy machine salesman who was granted purpose by the end of civilization. He now leads an army, but at heart he remains small. He's sadistic when backed by an army, but he tries to deny a one-on-one challenge when it comes. He's also literally impotent, as the movie spells out because subtlety is for losers. Still, he's well read and able to speak with passion, which is enough for him to attract followers who are hungry to live a life that matters. And yes, that very same hunger for meaning and connection is what turns the communities away from him and to the postman. The very element of human nature that he exploits is the one that undermines his control.

Ford Lincoln Mercury: Dumb question: Why is Ford (Larenz Tate) a supporting character? He's the one who, after meeting the Postman, does the actual work of setting up a functioning regional postal service. All of which happens offscreen. Ford is the real driving force of the story, with Costner's Postman only agreeing to head the new service because he can't make himself disappoint the eager recruits. Wouldn't it have been more meaningful if we followed Ford as the viewpoint character, seeing the Postman only through his eyes? Learning that the Postman's claims are lies with Ford, and then deciding - with Ford - that what they've built matters in spite of that? This film has several missed opportunities, and restricting Ford to a supporting role is one of the biggest.

Abby: The young Olivia Williams is stunningly gorgeous. Yes, I'm leading with that. Why not? The film does. She's introduced asking The Postman to have sex with her because her husband (Charles Esten) is sterile, and her early scenes mainly focus on how pretty she is. Williams, a fine actress, gets some good scenes later: reacting with anger and hatred to Bethlehem, for instance, or when she becomes bitterly disillusioned by the Postman. But the last part of the film completely reduces her to eye candy. Well, eye candy plus Costner cheerleader.

Sheriff Briscoe: Daniel von Bargen is very good as the crusty sheriff of Pineview, the town where The Postman first makes his claims. The townspeople believe in The Postman because they so desperately want to. And because The Postman does have a letter for a blind town resident that makes her and others happy, the sheriff allows them to believe. But he smells what the bull dropped, and he makes clear that he wants this stranger gone before he causes trouble. Even so, he can't fully dismiss his own hope. He knows that this stranger is lying... but he still gives him a letter to his sister before sending him on his way.

Col. Getty: Television mainstay Joe Santos makes a strong impression as Bethlehem's right-hand man. Getty was the last person to challenge Bethlehem for leadership, in a fight we're told lasted mere seconds. Getty was rendered mute, but he has remained loyal to Bethlehem. Santos is able to say much with a few looks. He pauses to show compassion for Luke (Scott Bairstow), stopping another Holnist from shooting Luke when he defects to the Postman. Also, while he cannot speak, he ends up with the final word on the story's conflict.

"How much mail can a dead postman deliver?" The Postman and
Ford (Larenz Tate) differ about the value of the mail.

"SAY SOMETHING NICE":

OK... Exactly how could this be considered the Worst Picture of 1997 or any other year? I'm not going to call The Postman a good movie, because it's not. There are some pretty big problems with both structure and pacing.

That said, I wouldn't call this a particularly bad movie either. It looks terrific, its $80 million budget absolutely visible on screen. It's generally well acted; as I mentioned, Costner seems to be aware of his own limited range and keeps well within that, trusting the heavy emotional moments to the strong supporting cast. A few emotional moments even somehow manage to land - notably a wordless scene in which Sheriff Briscoe finally gets a reply to his letter.

There's plenty wrong here, and I'll spend most of the rest of this review talking about that. But the movie only truly faceplants in its final stretch. Until the last thirty minutes or so, it at least kept me generally entertained.

I'm not going to rank myself among this movie's defenders... but unlike, say, Howard the Duck, I have no difficulty seeing why this film has defenders. There's a very good movie in here somewhere - and every so often, you're able to catch a decent glimpse of what it might have been.

The Postman gets a statue. Because of course he does.

VANITY, THY NAME IS KEVIN:

The million dollar question: Does The Postman qualify as a vanity project? On the one hand, Costner had a previous track record as the director of the Oscar winning hit, Dances with Wolves. He also distributes strong moments to other members of the cast in a story that sees him spending half the running time trying to stay alive and/or con people into giving him food and shelter so that he can stay alive.

On the other hand. Well...

Never mind that he stars, produces, and directs. If that's all it took to make a vanity project, then you could apply the same label to more than half of Clint Eastwood's output. I'd even allow for him casting his daughter in a supporting role. Annie Costner, as the similarly nameless "Ponytail," acquits herself passably. She's a little wooden, but I've seen worse from properly trained actors.

But then there's that final stretch, in which no less than three supporting characters take pains to tell the Postman to his face just how great he is. Then there's the epilogue, in which the Postman's grown daughter (an unbilled Mary Stuart Masterson) unveils a posthumous statue to her father before - yes - making a speech about how great he was. And then there's the end credits, in which Costner sings the (Razzie winning) end song with Amy Grant.

So... yeah. I think I'm going to label this one a vanity project. And someone should tell Costner that stroking his ego that blatantly in public might get him arrested in some counties.

Pineview's crusty sheriff (Daniel von Bargen) gets a letter, in one of the few emotional moments that lands.

OTHER MUSINGS:

There are three big issues with The Postman. The first is that it is mostly humorless. Mad Max's George Miller would have had great fun embracing the ludicrous elements and leaning into the tropes. In Costner's hands, almost everything is presented with such earnestness that supposedly dramatic moments become unintentionally funny.

There's the big "trailer moment" in which the Postman picks up a letter from a young boy at the side of a road. As the music swells with Great Importance, I find that I can't help but giggle. Another such moment is the overwrought speech Abby gives late in the film, as she tells Costner's Postman: "You give out hope like it was candy in your pocket." And in my head, Leslie Nielsen starts expanding the metaphor by talking about how it's half-melted and tastes funny. And then maybe tries to lure children to a white van with it.

The second problem is that there's no sense of the passage of time. The first Act sees the main character pressed into a post-apocalyptic warlord's army, escaping that army, finding the postal truck, and assuming the Postman's identity. Did this take place over a span of days, weeks, months? We have no idea. What was the interval between his escape and finding the postal truck? Was it weeks later, or did he stumble across the truck that same day? Again, we have no clue.

The main body of the story sees Ford creating a postal service, the Postman eventually agreeing to lead it, and Bethlehem coming to see this fledgling service as a threat that must be eradicated. Surely this takes place over a stretch of several months, if not a year or two? Except that Abby is impregnated by The Postman the night they meet - the very first day that he assumes the Postman's identity - and she only gives birth at the very end of the story. So that means that everything from his arrival in Pineview to the defeat of Bethlehem takes place over approximately nine months!

Never mind that it would actually raise the stakes for the Postman to have a young child to protect while the conflict is ongoing. As I mentioned earlier, this is a movie that never misses an opportunity to squander even the most obvious dramatic potential.

The final, and biggest, problem is the pacing. With a three hour running time, it's little surprise that parts of the story drag. What is a surprise is how much of it feels rushed! We spend entirely too long watching the Postman recuperate in a mountain cabin. Meanwhile, the postal service is created by Ford, entirely offscreen. Oh, and its further growth after the Postman agrees to lead it? That's basically a montage. As is much of the conflict with Bethlehem. And raising an army to face Bethlehem? That's another thing that happens offscreen.

The long running time isn't the problem. The problem is that the movie spends so long on setup that it ends up zooming through what's meant to be the heart of the story. The first two thirds should at most be the first half (probably less), while the final third should be fleshed out to at least a full half.

I'll emphasize again that, at least until the last half hour, I don't actually think this movie is that bad. The first half or so is generally decent. Even in the final hour, there are individual moments that work quite well. The idea of people needing something to believe in, and how that can be used for good (the sense of community created by the postal service) or bad (Bethlehem and the Holnists) is a worthy one, even if the execution is laughably heavy-handed.

And given the competition, I certainly don't think this deserved Worst Picture...

New carriers are sworn in as the postal service grows.

THE OTHER NOMINEES:

Anaconda is a deeply stupid monster flick with Jennifer Lopez and Ice Cube leading a documentary crew that makes the mistake of rescuing ultra-crazy Jon Voight, while most of the supporting cast ends up eaten by a giant snake. Unlike The Postman, this movie isn't trying to be anything other than dumb fun, which is precisely why I don't think it belongs on this list.

Batman & Robin would be my personal pick for Worst Picture. It attempts to channel the campy fun of the 1960s series, but it overshoots. Instead of "so bad it's good," it ends up being so bad that it's horrible. Unless you like ice puns or are curious to see how a dominant box office franchise was destroyed by a single film, then the only reason to watch this is for the Rifftrax commentary.

Fire Down Below represented yet another attempt by Steven Seagal to blend mindless action with environmentalism. I never saw it, but since every post-Executive Decision Seagal film that I have seen is dreadful (and not even in a fun way), I have no reason to doubt its awfulness.

Finally, there is Speed 2: Cruise Control. Many thought Keanu Reeves had sabotaged his career by declining to return. Then the movie came out. Even with a scenery chomping Willem Dafoe as the villain, this is too stupid to even qualify as "dumb fun."

The Postman rides to battle after raising an army offscreen.

OVERALL:

Kevin Costner's career was never quite the same after The Postman, but it was far from destroyed. His directorial follow-up, Open Range, was made on a smaller budget and smaller scale, and it demonstrated the exact discipline and focus that was absent here; I actually think it's the best of his three directorial efforts.

As an actor, he bounced back with the commercially successful Message in a Bottle... but his leading man days were clearly numbered, and he transitioned to character roles with the well-received Cuban Missile Crisis drama, Thirteen Days. I think the character roles suit his strengths much better than "star" roles, truthfully, and he's kept working consistently in movies and television both good and bad.

As for The Postman? I think it's at least a halfway interesting curio. It's a failure, oddly paced and focusing on many of the wrong parts of its story. But it's rarely less than watchable and often fairly engaging, and I wouldn't rank it as being anywhere near the disaster that contemporary critics made it out to be.


Rating: Raspberry.

Worst Picture - 1996: Striptease
Worst Picture - 1998: An Alan Smithee Film - Burn, Hollywood, Burn! (not yet reviewed)

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1996: Striptease.

A bitter custody battle leads Erin Grant
(Demi Moore) to take desperate action.

Release Date: June 23, 1996. Running Time: 117 minutes. Screenplay: Andrew Bergman. Based on the novel by: Carl Hiaasen. Producer: Andrew Bergman, Mike Lobell. Director: Andrew Bergman.


THE PLOT:

Erin Grant (Demi Moore) was a secretary for the FBI - until her drug addicted criminal husband, Darrell (Robert Patrick), got her fired. Worse: This is South Florida, Darrell was a football star in high school, and the good-ole-boy judge was a big fan... and thus awards him full custody of their 7-year-old daughter (Rumer Willis).

It will cost $15,000 to pay for an appeal, and so Erin goes to work at strip club The Eager Beaver. She quickly attracts a following, particularly superfan Jerry (William Hill). When Jerry recognizes Congressman David Dilbeck (Burt Reynolds) at the club, he decides to help Erin by shaking Dilbeck down for his help in overturning the judge's decision.

The next day, Jerry's body washes up on the shore where Lt. Al Garcia (Armand Assante) is vacationing. The dead man's home is decorated with pictures of Erin, leading Garcia to question her. Dilbeck's people are also looking for her. His handlers are nervous that she might talk, while Dilbeck mainly just wants her for himself.

All of which leaves Erin to resort to a desperate gambit: to save her life from the congressman's ruthless associates; to save herself from his lecherous attentions; and to save her daughter from a future likely to be destroyed by her ex-husband!

Bouncer Shad (Ving Rhames) tries to get rich
by planting cockroaches in yogurt.

CHARACTERS:

Erin: While I don't think this movie is anywhere near as bad as its reputation, it does have one massive weakness - and that is Demi Moore. It's very clear that she worked hard to get the dance scenes right. Too bad about the rest. At its heart, this is a goofy comedy/thriller with a dose of satire, but Moore plays it as Serious Drama, complete with scenes of her Brooding Alone in the Rain (TM). The result is tonal whiplash, as if a television remote was glitching between Mel Brooks and a particularly expensive Lifetime movie.

Lt. Garcia: The usually interesting Armand Assante shows up for a paycheck performance as the dutiful cop investigating Jerry's death. There's nothing interesting to say about this character, whose personality begins and ends with "good cop." Assante doesn't exactly sleepwalk - he gives a competent, professional performance - but he isn't bringing anything extra to the table. Still, I appreciate that Garcia is a happily married family man, who is never once posited as a potential love interest for Erin.

Darrell: Striptease's saving grace is its supporting cast, with Robert Patrick particularly good as Erin's loser ex-husband. Darrell is a small-time criminal whose latest brainstorm is stealing wheelchairs. Granted custody of his daughter, he uses her as a prop to make the thefts easier. He preens through life, clearly believing himself to be some kind of mastermind, even as he becomes ever more ragged and beat up across the running time. By the final Act, he resembles nothing so much as a drunken scarecrow. The contrast between his arrogance and his petty idiocy makes his scenes the most consistently entertaining in the film.

Shad: Ving Rhames is also terrific, as usual, as club bouncer Shad. He gets laughs just through the use (and exaggeration) of his immense physical presence: lounging in the strippers' dressing room, a monkey sitting on his head as he flips through the Wall Street Journal, or sitting in his lawyer's office while putting one foot up on the other man's desk. When asked if he's familiar with Congressman Dilbeck, he removes his glasses and deadpans: "Do I look like I follow politics?" He is absolutely protective of Erin and her daughter. In his very first scene, he offers to give Darrell a beating, something Erin has to talk him out of.

Congressman Dilbeck (Burt Reynolds), covered
in vaseline and sniffing some of Erin's dryer lint.

BURT REYNOLDS AS CONGRESSMAN DAVID DILBECK:

Burt Reynolds lobbied hard for the role of Dilbeck, taking a pay cut to secure what he believed would be his comeback role. It didn't work out so well, with the Razzies naming him 1996's Worst Supporting Actor. Personally, I enjoyed much of his performance.

Dilbeck is more snake oil salesman than policymaker, publicly declaring himself a champion of family values when he is, in actuality, an utter degenerate. After he becomes obsessed with Erin, he orders his long-suffering aide to steal her dryer lint. Shortly thereafter, the young man finds his boss sniffing the lint while covered head to toe in vaseline... backstage at an event he's sponsoring for a church group. Dilbeck grins as he declares of the vaseline: "I can feel it squishin' between my toes!"

Most reviewers thought he went too far, coming across as more creepy than funny. That element of the performance makes sense when you read about the reshoots. Originally, Dilbeck attempted to rape Erin at knife-point, but test audiences didn't like "the funny one" turning violent. The scene was reshot so that he was just goofy instead. A minor issue on its own... except that it leaves that dangerous element of his performance without a payoff.

Erin performs at the club, in a sequence that does
a surprisingly expert job of setting up the entire plot.

"SAY SOMETHING NICE":

Striptease is a movie with a lot of problems, but its opening ten minutes are surprisingly well-scripted. After a teaser that sets up Erin's custody battle, the next ten minutes sets up all the major threads that will take us through the rest of the movie. Erin is established in her new job, talking about the appeal she's filed. Shad is introduced and his sympathy for Erin is made clear. Erin mentions superfan Jerry (whom we see in the audience), assuring Shad that she considers him to be harmless. Congressman Dilbeck arrives, watches Erin dance, and declares her an "angel." Dilbeck creates a scene, and Jerry recognizes him and snaps a photo. By the 11-minute mark, the story is ready to be set in motion.

Given that Striptease marks the second stripper-focused Golden Raspberry winner in a row, some comparison with Showgirls is unavoidable. Well, this one sequence features sharper and just plain more efficient screenwriting than anything in Showgirls's entire running time - though I'll also admit that it's better put together than anything else in the rest of this movie.

A legend in his own mind: Robert Patrick gets laughs
and steals scenes as Erin's idiot, criminal ex-husband.

OTHER MUSINGS:

Striptease's two major problems are inextricably intertwined: its tone and its pacing. The scenes featuring Dilbeck, Darryl, and Shad are generally fun to watch. Then we cut to Erin and... it comes crashing to a halt.

Nor can all the blame for this be put on Moore's performance. On the page, her scenes in the first half of the movie are dull and repetitive. Let me summarize those scenes: Erin is sad about her daughter. Erin is worried about her daughter. Erin is sad some more. There are at least three scenes that could be summarized with, "Erin is sad/worried." Another scene, that lasts far too long, sees in a good mood as she dances alone in her apartment. Then Lt. Garcia arrives to give her bad news, and she is sad again. And I'm left wondering if we keep cutting back just to remind viewers that Demi Moore is meant to be the star.

I can envision a 96-minute version of this that would be snappy and fast-paced. The actual story is good, and author Carl Hiassen was reportedly pleased that the film stuck more or less to his novel. But at 117 minutes, it's too long. It takes well over an hour for Erin to realize that she's in danger and to become proactive in solving her problems. That's a point that should have been reached by the 45-minute mark - at the latest!

The back half is mostly enjoyable as the various threads start coming together. There are some scenes that nicely balance suspense and comedy when Robert Patrick's ex-husband stumbles idiotically into the action. By this point, however, I suspect a lot of viewers had already mentally checked out. And while I had fun with the final Act, the climax still feels like it needs something more to really push the zaniness.

Ultimately, I think that screenwriter Andrew Bergman needed a better director than himself. His script delivers several funny moments. As director, he shoots in what I think would be best described as "TV movie" style, relying entirely on his cast to infuse scenes with energy. He retains repetitive beats that should have been removed, and he allows his star to act as if she's in a completely different movie than everyone else. A stronger hand would likely have taken this material and delivered a better result.

Jerry (William Hill), Erin's superfan, comes up with
a plan to help her. I never said it was a good plan.

THE OTHER NOMINEES:

1996 is another year in which I only saw one of the Worst Picture nominees: The Stupids, a Tom Arnold flick based on a series of children's novels. I can't really comment on it, since the only scene I remember is Tom Arnold singing, I'm My Own Grandpa. I'm pretty sure it's the only scene of that movie that anyone remembers...

Barb Wire was Baywatch star Pamela Anderson Lee's attempt to break into film stardom. Reading a plot synopsis, it basically amounts to a sci-fi/action version of Casablanca, with Anderson Lee in the Humphrey Bogart role. I'm sure it's dreadful, but it likely has some camp comedy value.

Ed was another TV star's attempt to make it in movies, this time Friends star Matt LeBlanc playing opposite a chimpanzee in a baseball movie. I suspect it's just as good as it sounds.

The Island of Doctor Moreau had a troubled production that included changes in director and lead actor. Marlon Brando plays the title character, which would have been fantastic... in the 1970s. But this was mid-1990s Marlon Brando, so the results were less good. On the plus side, this disaster eventually yielded Lost Soul, a rather good 2014 documentary about the unmaking of the movie.

I would hazard a guess that Doctor Moreau and Ed are likely worse movies than Striptease - but I'm not about to sacrifice my time to find out.


OVERALL:

This being the '90s, Striptease tried to bill itself as an erotic movie. It isn't. The strip club scenes are a very small portion of the running time, and only a few seconds here and there show actual nudity (a bit more in the unrated cut). Yes, you see Demi Moore's breasts... unless you happen to blink at the wrong second.

For the most part, this is a standard comedy/thriller, and the film is easily at its best when it plays to that genre combo. The movie's biggest problem is the uneven tone and pace that keep it from ever building the kind of zany, comic steam that it so desperately needs. There are funny scenes and good performances, but it takes far too long for it to properly build.

In the end, Striptease is no better than mediocre, but it's also no worse than that. Not only would I argue against its Worst Picture win - I actually had a better time than I expected watching it! 


Rating: Raspberry.

Worst Picture - 1995: Showgirls
Worst Picture - 1997: The Postman

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1995: Showgirls.

Stripper Nomi (Elizabeth Berkeley) realizes her dream... by joining a glitzy Vegas topless revue.

Release Date: Sept. 22, 1995. Running Time: 131 minutes. Screenplay: Joe Eszterhas. Producer: Alan Marshall, Charles Evans, Mario Kassar. Director: Paul Verhoeven.


THE PLOT:

Nomi (Elizabeth Berkley) hitchhikes to Las Vegas for one reason: to dance. Unfortunately, the only place where she can find employment is Cheetah's, a topless club. Meanwhile, her roommate, Molly (Gina Ravera), works in costuming at the Stardust, whose show Goddess has attracted star Cristal Connors (Gina Gershon).

Cristal briefly meets Nomi backstage, where she is bitchy to her for no readily apparent reason. After Nomi snaps back, an intrigued Cristal gets her boyfriend, Zack (Kyle MacLachlan), the Stardust's entertainment director, to cast her in the chorus line for Goddess.

Nomi quickly discovers that her new job is mainly an opportunity for Cristal to torment and humiliate her. But Nomi hatches a scheme of her own to take the star down a peg while realizing her dreams in the process...

Cristal's obsession with Nomi has a sexual element. This is conveyed with all the subtlety you'd expect.

CHARACTERS:

Nomi: Showgirls was meant to be a starmaking vehicle for Elizabeth Berkley, who was best known for the sitcom, Saved by the Bell. She would have been better off sticking with sitcoms. Berkley overacts to often hilarious effect - I have never seen anyone attack a box of French fries with such a degree of hostility and violence.

Director Paul Verhoeven has publicly taken responsibility, stating that Berkley gave him exactly the performance he wanted... something that I don't doubt for an instant. Still, while I'm sure Verhoeven wanted hilarious overacting, this is achievable without looking like a bad actor. Co-stars Gina Gershon and Kyle MacLachlan hit that mark in this very movie; Berkley does not.

Zack: Given the casting of Kyle MacLachlan, his crazy hair (which deserves separate billing of its own), and his even crazier eyes, I'd like to speculate that this is what "Bob" got up to in between the two Twin Peaks series. There's only one problem with this: Zack is kind of a wimp. He's a nonentity for the movie's first half, following Cristal's lead in all his major decisions and actions. Then Nomi seduces him, and he follows her lead. He's a sleaze, but he's a very weak one.

Cristal: As Nomi's showbiz nemesis, Gina Gershon puts on a cod-Southern accent that varies scene by scene: Sometimes it's a light twang, sometimes it's practically at Dolly Parton levels, and sometimes it isn't there at all. Cristal seems to get a sexual thrill from humiliating Nomi. When Nomi confronts her for enjoying making a display of her, Cristal responds, "Yeah darlin', I think I did." When Nomi tells her she hates her, she grins as she says, "I know." Gershon chomps down on all of this as if biting into a full dinner, absolutely nailing the "trashy fun" vibe that the film seems to be trying for.

James: His first attempt to pick up Nomi earns him a kick in the sensitive bits when he insults her dancing. He later criticizes her for being a topless dancer. Then he criticizes her for joining the Goddess chorus line, saying her previous job was at least "honest." Basically, if you assume that James is insulting Nomi or her decisions in any given scene, there's a pretty decent chance that you're right. Actor Glenn Plumber gets stuck with some of the film's worst lines, and he goes all-in on the delivery: "B***h, I'm tellin' you the TRUTH!" Uh-huh. Nomi, could you kick him again, please?

Al Torres: Robert Davi pops up a sleazebag in a 1990s movie. Who'd have thought? That said, Davi actually gives one of the film's best performances. Gina Gershon is good because she overacts in exactly the right way for the material; Robert Davi is good because he plays it straight. He has a particularly well-acted moment about thirty minutes in. Nomi gets $500 from Cristal for performing a lap dance on Zack, then leaves the club in disgust. Al seems legitimately confused. She just got $500 for something that usually earns far less. In his mind, she should be ecstatic. His reward for actually working as a character is to be brought back to deliver one of the movie's most notorious lines, which I won't repeat... but he does as well with it as anyone could, throwing the line away like a shrug.

Molly: The only genuinely likable character in the movie, well-played by Gina Ravera. Nomi is at her lowest point when Molly meets her, and Molly (inexplicably) gives her a place to stay until she's back on her feet. She is nothing but supportive right up until Nomi's behavior crosses the line into the criminal. She is also obsessed with a music star... which allows the movie to punish the one decent human being on display in its most spectacularly misjudged plot turn.

Sleazy club manager Al Torres delivers a particularly awful line.
Actor Robert Davi does as well with it as was possible.

"SAY SOMETHING NICE":

There are two schools of thought on Paul Verhoeven's helming of Showgirls. The first is that Verhoeven took this deeply seriously, and the result was a spectacular blunder. The second is that Verhoeven knew exactly what he was doing and actively encouraged making this film as tacky and over-the-top as it could get. I fall firmly into the latter camp, as it seems very in-character for the director who made RoboCop into a stealth satire and Starship Troopers into a stealth parody.

Whatever the case, there are moments in this film in which the sleaze, bad acting, and overall inanity transform into comedy gold. Take Elizabeth Berkeley’s "dancing," which vaguely looks as if she's managing to remain standing during a seizure. Or Gershon and Berkley chatting about the taste of puppy chow. Or the swimming pool sex scene, which I'll talk more about below. Or a bit near the end, in which Nomi turns into a Chuck Norris style martial artist.

Before the movie's release, some film journalists were wondering if Paul Verhoeven would deliver a 1990s version of Midnight Cowboy, making the "NC-17" rating respectable in the same way that Oscar winning film had done for the "X" rating in the late 1960s. In reality, Verhoeven made something much more fun: the mid-'90s answer to The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

A sex scene in a swimming pool ends up resembling an exorcism.

SO... WHAT WERE THEY ON?

The swimming pool sex scene between Elizabeth Berkley and Kyle MacLachlan is one of the most bizarre things I've seen in a major motion picture. Like much of the rest of the movie, it's hilarious. It's also truly, deeply weird, with Nomi flopping about like a dolphin while Zack just sort of holds onto her with an increasingly confused look on his face. Nothing about this resembles sex, but it may offer viewers a rare glimpse of an aquatic exorcism.


OTHER MUSINGS:

Paul Verhoeven has discussed wanting to capture something of Joseph L. Mankiewicz's classic, All About Eve, and Showgirls is just about the same. You know, if you replace the witty barbs and acid observations with a stream of profanities and inane blather... and if you make Eve impulsive and physically violent instead of expertly manipulative... and if you make Margo Channing not merely catty but directly abusive... and if you replace Mankiewicz's hyper-literate circle with a bunch of hormone-driven, drug-fueled morons... and if you throw in so much nudity that it ceases to titillate or, after a while, even register.

So... except for the basic plot outline, it's nothing like All About Eve. It's also nothing like a good movie at all. If you haven't seen Showgirls, I can confirm that it's every bit as terrible as you've heard. The story is a steady stream of basic showbiz clichés, fronting an unlikable lead, with awful dance sequences and even worse dialogue.

Let's take a quick look at the prologue. It's a dizzyingly awful introduction to both the story and Nomi as a character. We open with her hitchhiking to Vegas, declaring, "I'm gonna dance." When the driver who picked her up makes a clumsily boorish suggestion, she instantly pulls a switchblade. Never mind that nothing about his suggestion or demeanor suggests that he's thinking about forcing anything non-consensual.

When they reach Vegas, she leaves her suitcase in his cab, and she is actually surprised when he takes off with it. She responds reasonably: by attacking a random car. Fortunately, the car's owner is Molly, and she buys Nomi French fries (which, as noted, she attacks with hilarious violence), and then offers her a place to stay. Nomi's response is to wonder if Molly is hitting on her. All this takes place in the span of about six minutes, and it establishes Nomi as being unstable, potentially violent, and kind of stupid. Exactly none of these traits make me in any way invested in her journey. To add a cherry on top: If this entire sequence had been removed (along with the corresponding bookend), it wouldn't affect the rest of the movie at all!

As I've said, I'm convinced Verhoeven recognized this as what it was, and that he took the opportunity to make one of his stealth parodies out of it. Showgirls fails where RoboCop and Starship Troopers succeeded, in my opinion, because it doesn't work in its own genre first. If you somehow miss all the straight-faced comedy in the other two movies, they still work as solid action thrillers. Showgirls is very funny as a self-parody; but it's a truly terrible drama. I laughed a lot - but whenever I wasn't laughing at the movie, I was mostly just bored by it.

James hits on Nomi by insulting everything about her. Somehow, this ends up working.

THE OTHER NOMINEES:

1995's Worst Picture nominees are unusual, in that I've only actually seen one of them. That one was Waterworld, Kevin Costner's post-apocalyptic action flick. I found it watchable, thanks in large part to Dennis Hopper's scenery chomping baddie. Costner, however, is at his most wooden, and he has zero screen chemistry with love interest Jeanne Tripplehorn.

I haven't seen any of the remaining three, and I have little wish to. Congo is a Michael Crichton thriller that was likely made to cash in on Jurassic Park. It managed to turn a profit, but it turns out that apes aren't worth the same box office as dinosaurs.

It's Pat was the umpteenth attempt to turn a Saturday Night Live sketch into a feature film. I never found Julia Sweeney's Pat funny even in sketch form, and 80 minutes of it sounds like torture. Based on its $60,000 box office take, I'm guessing I wasn't alone in that assessment.

Finally, The Scarlet Letter was a misfired attempt to adapt Nathaniel Hawthorne's novel about Puritan hypocrisy to the bigscreen. Added to Hawthorne's tale were explicit sex scenes, action pieces involving Native American tribes, and a completely changed ending. Which is to say... Yeah, they kept the title.

If I was to hazard a guess, It's Pat is likely both worse and less watchable than Showgirls - but I can't blame the Razzies for shirking an instantly forgotten nothing of a film in favor of an instantly notorious megabomb!

Sleazy villains Zack and Cristal eye up Nomi.

OVERALL:

Showgirls is an awful movie with one saving grace: It's often very funny. True, I was laughing at the movie rather than with it. But I still laughed a lot.

That's not enough for me to recommend it, mind you. As a drama, Showgirls is terrible and often boring. But in the right frame of mind, and particularly in the company of some MST3K-literate friends, I could see it being a lot of fun.


Rating: Turkey.

Worst Picture - 1994: Color of Night
Worst Picture - 1996: Striptease

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1994: Color of Night.

Dr. Bill Capa (Bruce Willis) gets involved
with a troubled young woman (Jane March).

Release Date: Aug. 19, 1994. Running Time: 121 minutes (theatrical), 139 minutes (director's cut). Screenplay: Billy Ray, Matthew Chapman. Producer: Buzz Feitshans, David Matalon, Andrew G. Vajna. Director: Richard Rush.


THE PLOT:

After a patient commits suicide in front of him, psychologist Bill Capa (Bruce Willis) loses the ability to see the color red. Needing time to recover, he goes to Los Angeles to stay with his friend, Bob Moore (Scott Bakula), who became rich after the breakout success of his self-help book, Way to Go!.

All is not well with Bob. He has been receiving death threats, which he is convinced are from someone in his Monday therapy group, and he hopes that Bill can help him identify which of his patients is actually dangerous. Bill sits in on one meeting, but nothing really stands out... and before the next meeting takes place, Bob is brutally murdered.

With a little manipulation from police Lt. Martinez (Ruben Blades), Bill takes over the Monday group. He also begins talking to the patients one-on-one, trying to figure out what happened and who was responsible. He's only barely started investigating when he runs into Rose (Jane March), a beautiful young woman who refuses to reveal anything about herself - but who seems to be entangled with every member of the group...

Bill admires an art piece that reflects his own fractured state.

CHARACTERS:

Dr. Bill Capa: Bruce Willis is well-cast as the traumatized psychologist. In the wake of his patient's death, Bill is cut off from his own emotions. This is a good fit for Willis's persona, as it actually creates an in-story reason for the sense that he's ironically observing his own actions. When he initiates the affair with Rose, he does so fully aware that she's too young for him. He even remarks at one point, when she arrives wearing a backpack, that it makes her look even younger than she already is. "Always guess the cliché, and you won't be disappointed," he quips.

Rose: Jane March was cast because of her performance in Jean-Jacques Annaud's The Lover, a movie that involved many explicit scenes. Despite this, she was uncomfortable with this film's nudity - I suspect at least in part because, while The Lover's sex scenes formed a major part of the character dynamics, Color of Night's were pure exploitation. Her performance is actually good despite some poor dialogue, and she manages a decent American accent. But the Razzies, in their ongoing inability to distinguish between bad acting and good acting in a flawed movie, still nominated her as Worst Actress.

Det. Martinez: Rubén Blades steals his every scene as the foul-mouthed lieutenant assigned to the case. When Bill seems reluctant to talk to the therapy group, he convinces him by giving an example of how tactful he would be in delivering the news: "Listen up, you f***ing daffodils, your shrink is dead!" Bill regards him with open disgust, which seems to be entirely reciprocated. The director's cut adds in a few extra character details, revealing the reason why Martinez wants to avoid direct contact with the group.

Dr. Bob Moore: Scott Bakula makes a solid impression as the ill-fated Los Angeles therapist. He and Bruce Willis are convincing in portraying the competitive side of the friendship between the two characters, and he projects enough intelligence for us to believe that he managed to figure out much of the mystery before his death.

The Therapy Group: The patients Bill inherits, played by some very recognizable 1990s character actors. Lesley Ann Warren is Sondra, a nymphomaniac/kleptomaniac. Brad Dourif is Clark, an attorney with OCD who compulsively counts every book in the office at every meeting (inevitably, this turns into a plot point). Kevin J. O'Connor is Casey, an obnoxious rich kid who fancies himself an artist.

The best performance not only of the group, but of the film, comes from Lance Henriksen as Buck, who is suffering from PTSD after witnessing the deaths of his wife and daughter. Henriksen doesn't overact, and so he holds our focus even when the others are screaming at each other. Two of the movie's best moments belong to him: a scene during a storm, with Buck's pain tangible as he relates the exact events leading up to his family's death; and a later bit in which he expresses his forgiveness for another character (though this only occurs in the director's cut). These scenes are well-written, and Henriksen wrings maximum emotion out of them precisely because he plays them with restraint.

The members of the therapy group react
to news of their doctor's death.

"SAY SOMETHING NICE":

Color of Night was Richard Rush's return to the director's chair for the first (and last) time since 1980's The Stunt Man. I think it's fair to say that it wasn't the movie anyone had been waiting for. That said, particularly in the director's cut, it is evident that Rush knows how to compose a shot and how to build a scene.

I've commented on other big studio Razzie winners by noting professional polish. Never mind "polish" - in its director's cut, Color of Night looks gorgeous. Shots are beautifully framed, with Rush making the most of every setting: Bob Moore's office, where the group meets; the expensive but coldly antiseptic house where Bill is staying; Buck's darkened living room, with the storm in the background; Casey's cluttered loft; a welder's garage. Every setting is atmospheric, and every shot is well-composed.

The story has its problems, even in the director's cut. Still, Color of Night is an extremely well-made movie.

Well, one version of it is, at least...

Bill and Rose stumble across important plot
information - but only in the director's cut.

THE UNKINDEST CUT

There are two versions of Color of Night: producer Andrew Vajna's 122 minute theatrical cut, and Richard Rush's 139 minute director's cut. These are more different than the usual theatrical/director split, because Vajna's cut is not a simple reduction of Rush's version. The two cuts were prepared entirely independently of each other.

Rush had been led to believe that he had final cut, but he did not. He remained determined to release his version, and both cuts were test screened before Vajna fired him. The Director's Guild of America stepped in and negotiated a settlement: Vajna's cut would be theatrically released, but Rush's would be the version distributed on home video. There's a lot more (some public nastiness from Vajna, Rush's possibly related heart attack), but that's the gist of it.

Vajna's cut hit theaters in August 1994... with disastrous results. The theatrical version removes vital character and plot information and rearranges scenes, all of which combine to create inconsistencies. Set pieces are not properly established, including the film's big car chase, and multiple threads are left dangling. Editing is more jagged, and shots within scenes don't flow into each other the same way they do in Rush's cut. The use of color is also different. Rush avoids red hues, reflecting Bill's affliction; he only allows red back into the lighting and flesh tones at the very end. Vajna does not do the same, which creates a noticeable visual difference.

For what it's worth, Richard Rush ultimately "won." The theatrical cut flopped miserably, while the VHS director's version topped sales and rental charts. For most of the time from then to now, Rush's version has been the primary one available. Even the 2019 Kino-Lorber blu-ray, which includes both versions, clearly makes the longer cut the main feature with the theatrical one more of an extended extra.

Streaming services are about 50/50 on which version you'll find: Vudu and Prime carry the director's cut, while YouTube and Apple TV carry the theatrical cut. Avoid the shorter version: The director's cut may not exactly be a good movie, but it's well made and enjoyable. The theatrical cut is just bad.

Bill is entranced by Rose.

AN EROTIC THRILLER THAT SHOULDN'T HAVE BEEN:

Color of Night would have likely been a lot better if it had been made a few years earlier or a few years later. Unfortunately, it came to the screen in 1994, when producers were still trying to box every suspense movie into the "erotic thriller" genre to try to recapture the lightning-in-a-bottle success of Basic Instinct.

The sex scenes never feel like an integral part of the movie. The relationship between Bill and Rose is developed (such as it is) in dialogue scenes, while the suspenseful moments occur when Bill is investigating and/or being stalked by the killer. The sex scenes neither advance character dynamics nor build suspense. As a result, the pace gets bogged down by them.

This is particularly true of the mid-film sex scene, which seems to go on forever. Bill and Rose start off in a swimming pool, where the director's cut treats female viewers to a blink-and-you'll-miss-it shot of Little Bruce. Then they're in the bed. Then it seems to be over as they exchange dialogue while eating... Only for the film to go back to them in the shower. Then we dissolve to a shot of some hang gliders, a sure tip that we're about to get back to the story... Only we're not, because they're back in bed.

I will say that Bruce Willis and Jane March actually have reasonable chemistry, and their sex scenes are better shot and better staged than most erotic thrillers from the period. But the scenes don't feel like they belong; they feel like they were tacked on.

Lt. Martinez (Rubén Blades) - The potty-mouthed Columbo.

OTHER MUSINGS:

At its heart, Color of Night is a goofy, Hitchcock-themed psychological thriller. There are multiple Hitchcock references dotted throughout, with nods to Psycho, Vertigo, and Rear Window being so blatant that this sometimes feels like a Brian DePalma movie in all but name.

The tone is deliberately over-the-top, particularly in the director's cut. The opening scenes, portraying the events leading to the suicide of Bill's patient, are so overplayed that they become vaguely comical. When she throws herself out the window, we not only see her fall: We get a succession of shots of her falling for a ludicrously long time. It goes on for so long that it goes from shocking to funny, even as she hits the ground - and it feels clear that every giggle is absolutely intentional.

The patients in group are played by actors capable of subtlety, only here they're directed to chew scenery: Brad Dourif bugs out his eyes like an alien, Lesley Ann Warren shouts every line, and Kevin J. O'Connor dials both sleaze and twitchiness up to 11. Even the murder is overbaked, from Scott Bakula's girlish scream to the sheer number of stab wounds, to his final dying posture. Later, the killer starts stalking Bruce Willis, making attempts on his life. One begins with a crank phone call made in a sing-song voice, while another features a rattlesnake in a mailbox! It's all so overplayed that it's almost cartoonish, and Richard Rush wants us to know that he's in on the joke.

The story depends on multiple plot twists, and most of them are easy to see coming. That Jane March's character is involved with every member of the group is presented as a big revelation... Except that the movie reveals it much earlier, around the one-hour mark! The killer is so obvious that most viewers will call it in the character's very first scene. Other would-be surprises depend on characters not sharing information that they have no reason to keep secret. Heck, the only investigating Bruce Willis should have to do is to read the patients' files. One key patient appears through court order, and the key information should be part of that person's official record!

The climax, in which Bill finally figures out who the killer is and goes to confront that person, depends on him being deeply stupid. Put yourself into his situation: You have determined the identity of the person who has killed at least two people and who has made multiple (if ridiculous) attempts on your life. Do you: (a) Call the police and share your evidence; or (b) Specifically avoid contacting the police so that you can go into the killer's lair alone, unarmed, and at night? If you're Bill, apparently "Option B" looks like a good idea.

Yeah, this film is definitely meant to be taken seriously...

THE OTHER NOMINEES:

Writer/director Lawrence Kasdan's Wyatt Earp isn't bad so much as unfocused, and it does not belong on this list. It mainly suffers from being released after the Kurt Russell/Val Kilmer Tombstone, which limited its scope and was more satisfying as a result.

The Specialist is a lesser Sylvester Stallone vehicle, misdirected and featuring one of Stallone's dullest performances. Parts of it are almost saved by the overacting of baddies Eric Roberts, Rod Steiger, and particularly James Woods. As the main villain, Woods doesn't merely go over the top: He launches past the top on his way into space, nukes the top from orbit, then comes back down to Earth to bury the ashes of the top just to make sure.

If the Razzies really wanted to stick it to Bruce Willis (again), then North would have been a much more appropriate Worst Picture selection than Color of Night. Willis pops up in a variety of guises while helping insufferable "perfect child" North (Elijah Wood) to figure out that he's not Too Good for His Parents. This barrage of relentlessly unfunny skits prompted Roger Ebert to deliver a memorable tirade: "I hated this movie. Hated hated hated hated hated this movie. Hated it."

That said, I found even North to be preferable to On Deadly Ground, the directorial debut of Steven Seagal. This environmentalist themed thriller features action that is leaden and dull, universally dreadful performances, and a heavy-handed message delivered via a 5-minute speech by that great orator, Steven Seagal. On the plus side, it marked the beginning of the end for his inexplicable superstar status.

I don't see how the Razzie voters could have labeled even the theatrical cut of Color of Night as worse than On Deadly Ground or North. For all its faults, Color of Night is fun to watch - fun being a quality nowhere in evidence in those other two movies.


OVERALL:

Color of Night is relentlessly silly, but it's never dull. This is not a good movie at all, even in its director's cut. Still, it's clear that the pervasive goofiness is intentional, and there is a fair amount of fun to be had.

If you're going to watch it, make sure you watch the director's cut. It's a much stronger version of this dumb movie: better made, with better character bits and more internal consistency. It's also more fun, because the off-kilter kookiness is dialed up even more in the director's version, making it clear that all the laughs - even the derisive ones - are absolutely intentional.


Rating - Director's Cut: Popcorn & Soda.

Rating - Theatrical Cut: Turkey.

Worst Picture - 1993: Indecent Proposal
Worst Picture - 1995: Showgirls

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1993: Indecent Proposal.

Billionaire John Gage (Robert Redford) develops an intense
interest in married real estate agent Diana (Demi Moore).

Release Date: Apr. 7, 1993. Running Time: 118 minutes. Screenplay: Amy Holden Jones. Based on the novel by: Jack Engelhard. Producer: Sherry Lansing. Director: Adrian Lyne.


THE PLOT:

Diana Murphy (Demi Moore) and her husband David (Woody Harrelson) are enjoying an idyllic married life. She is a real estate agent, and he is an architect, designing their dream home on their California property.

Then a recession hits. Home sales dry up for Diana, and David is laid off by his firm. After missing multiple mortgage payments, the two are in danger of losing their home. In desperation, they decide to make an overnight trip to Las Vegas to win the money they need to pay off the bank.

The results are predictable, and soon they are left with nothing. But Diana catches the eye of billionaire John Gage (Robert Redford), and he invites her and her husband to his suite for drinks. After some banter in which Diana says there are limits to what money can buy, Gage decides to test her statement. He offers the desperate couple $1 million for a single night with her.

David and Diana promise each other that they will never speak of this again. But after the deal is closed, David finds that he cannot forget. With Gage finding ways to intrude into her life, and David seeming determined to drive her away out of jealousy, Diana begins to wonder whether her marriage is as "invincible" as she and her husband had always believed...

David and Diana can't stop thinking about Gage's offer.

CHARACTERS:

John Gage: The key character scene for Gage sees him recalling a woman from his past, someone he only saw once and whose name he never knew because he was too hesitant to ask. This explains much about his motivations. From moments such as this, when he failed to get what he wanted only because he didn't try, he learned to be relentless when pursuing his goals - and it's with that relentlessness that he pursues Diana. That she's married doesn't matter to him; he wants her and, if it's within his power (and it usually is), he will have her.

A notable thing about this scene is Robert Redford's absolute control of his own acting. He doesn't strongly emote, he doesn't gesture. He fully conveys how much this past moment means to Gage while drawing a vivid mental image in the audience's mind, all through the tiniest of variances in voice and expression. It's his entire performance boiled down to a single, very good scene: He does exactly what is necessary to draw focus and convey his character, and not one thing more - and that very restraint makes him a stronger presence on screen.

Diana: Diana is not a particularly well-written character, but Demi Moore makes her work better than she should, largely by emphasizing moments of strength. When Gage makes his offer, Diana waits for her husband to say something; when she speaks up, telling Gage to go to hell, her voice carries a mix of anger at the billionaire and disappointment in her husband. She's anxious once the contract is signed, wondering exactly what she's expected to do; but by the time Gage spirits her away to his yacht, she has found her backbone and snaps at him when he makes a dig at David. These defiant moments help to sell her as someone Gage would actually be interested in. It also makes her moments of vulnerability, notably a breakdown after an argument with David, register more strongly.

David: Woody Harrelson won the Razzie for Worst Supporting Actor - and as much as I usually enjoy his work, I'm afraid I can't argue with the dishonor. He had yet to find himself as a dramatic actor, with his background mainly being in comedies, and he seems a bit lost at sea. In contrast to Redford's understated control, Harrelson overacts every emotion in a way that recalls the "Oscar Clip" gag in Wayne's World. He isn't helped by being stuck with the most inconsistently written of the three main roles, which is made even worse by the final half hour's insistence on bolting through his arc. In effect, all of David's character growth is crammed into ten minutes of screen time.

Shackleford: Gage's loyal manservant. In one of arguably too many nods to Redford's earlier role in The Great Gatsby, Gage speaks of Shackelford's mysterious past and says that he once killed a man, delivering the line in a way that keeps ambiguous whether he's serious or joking. And on the page... that's about it for Shackelford as a character. The late Seymour Cassel makes him an engaging presence largely through small bits of background business: The way he dances by himself while Gage and the young couple speak; the glances he exchanges with Gage; the smile he gives when he sees David's display of torn-and-taped up photographs. We never really know what he's thinking, but we can sense an inner life that we aren't privy to - something that I credit entirely to Cassel.

Jeremy: As David and Diana's friend and lawyer, Oliver Platt seems to be in a different movie than everyone else. Frankly, I'd rather watch his movie. When David calls him to finalize the deal with Gage, Jeremy is outraged, demanding to know how they could agree to such a thing... without first consulting him. "Never negotiate without your lawyer, never! For a woman like Diana, I could have gotten you two million!" He's so unapologetic in his greed that it's actually a bit charming, particularly when his friendship with the couple remains evident. He seems genuinely confused when the two separate, saying to Diana: "He loves you, you love him... This is a deal even I couldn't screw up."

Oliver Platt as the couple's friend and lawyer,
who merrily steals every second of screentime he gets.

"SAY SOMETHING NICE":

Director Adrian Lyne was always good at lending his films visual polish. He uses physical spaces to particularly strong effect. David and Diana's house is small, certainly compared to Gage's mansion, but it's filled with little things to show that people live there: a garden, unfolded laundry, items that decorate the walls. By contrast, Gage's hotel room and mansion are immaculate but cold. Diana even tells him that he needs furniture and maybe a dog to make it feel less like a showpiece and more like a home.

The film certainly has dumb moments ("Vegas" should never be your plan to make money unless you're going to work there), but there are genuinely good scenes. The scene in which Gage makes his proposal is carefully scripted to reveal the dynamics of all three characters, with Gage making the proposal in part to prove Diana wrong when she claims that "you can't buy people," and then pressing it after he senses David's weakness.


LOST IN ADAPTATION:

This is listed as being based on a novel by Jack Engelhard. In reality, the filmmakers just bought the general concept. In the novel, Josh (the "David" character) is a Jewish man married to Joan, a beautiful, blonde WASP. The rich man is Ibrahim, an Arab sheikh, and he is considerably more unscrupulous than Robert Redford's polite billionaire. Ibraham's interest in Josh's wife is driven less by emotion than by a desire to secure a trophy.

Josh is very clearly the main character, while Joan is the least characterized of the three principals - the exact opposite of the movie, where Diana is the lead and David receives the least characterization. The book's narrative folds in tensions involving race, culture, and history. There is also a strong thriller element, complete with a surprise double-cross.

All of which is to say... The movie tells a completely different story in a completely different way. The only things ultimately retained were the million dollar premise and the title.

David watches Diane sleep. I think it's meant to be
romantic, but it comes across as really creepy.

AN EPIPHANY THAT ISN'T:

"I thought he was the better man. I know now he's not - He's just got more money."

Back to the movie: David's insecurity arc ends when he realizes that Gage really isn't better than him. That's nice... except that the entire preceding film seems to contradict this!

Questionnaires of women attracted to older men tend to find that such attraction comes down to financial stability and emotional maturity. A contrast between Indecent Proposal's John Gage and David Murphy provides what could practically be a case study in this. Gage is calm, confident, and focused. He is absolutely secure in his own skin. Even when he's acting as the villain of the piece (which he is), he makes no excuses for his choices and does not try to attach blame to anyone else. By contrast, David loudly and almost violently blames everyone else - particularly Diana - for his misfortunes.

But fine: David has to go through his arc and grow, so that he can actually be worthy of his wife. The problem? First, all of his growth comes in a ten-minute burst near the end, with him going from drunkenly ranting about cuckoo birds to calmly teaching a class of architecture students with almost no transition. Then he swoops in to tell Diana the great epiphany he had.

For your edification, I will quote his realization in full:

"I think the mistake I made in Vegas was thinking that I could forget what we did. I thought we were invincible. But now I know that the things that people in love do to each other, they remember. And if they stay together, it's not because they forget, it's because they forgive."

...That's it? His grand revelation is the existence of frickin' memory? This is his breakthrough. He isn't even owning any responsibility for what happened, even in this supposedly mature final statement.

I want to cry out to Diana to stay with Gage. Not because of the money (though yes, it's a nice perk) - but because Gage is an actual adult. With David, I'd bet good money that she'd end up playing "mommy" for life.

By emphasizing Diane's strongest moments, Demi Moore
brings much more to the character than is on the page.

OTHER MUSINGS:

Sleazy premise aside, Indecent Proposal is a slickly produced and ultimately fairly mild soap opera. It's not a good movie by any stretch, but I'd rank it as being far from Worst Picture material.

It doesn't bore me the way Shining Through did. This movie treads shallow waters, less concerned with story or character than with how sexy Demi Moore looks rolling half-naked on a cash-covered mattress, or with the way fiftyish Robert Redford wears a suit in a manner that would make confident professionals twenty years his junior feel like gangly teens. This is superficial eye candy, which has its place. I enjoyed it well enough on a scene-by-scene basis. The main problem? I never felt at all invested.

We're introduced to David and Diana via drippy voice overs, flashbacks, and a score that sounds like it would better fit a television soap opera than a major theatrical feature. Then we get a painfully artificial, heavily choreographed sex scene. This is about five minutes in; we haven't even had a chance to get to know the couple yet; so there's no chance of this carrying any emotional meaning for the viewer. Given that it ends up being the movie's only sex scene, it honestly plays as if it was tacked on just to make sure post-Basic Instinct viewers didn't feel cheated.

Diana ends up working as a character, thanks to a carefully thought-out performance by Demi Moore. As for David... Well, most of what I've already written should tell you how badly I think his characterization fails. He's already dull, weak, and whiny at the midpoint. Then comes the moment that extinguishes any hint of sympathy I might have felt for him.

After the night with Gage, the couple returns home to find that complications have arisen with their house. Diana tries to calmly discuss this - but the instant she mentions Gage's name, David grabs a wine bottle and throws it against the wall, shattering it.

I'm pretty sure that I'm meant to feel David's emotional torment. Instead, I'm mentally urging Diana to run as fast as she can. Once things are being thrown and broken, the next escalation tends to be to physical violence, and David's demeanor indicates that he's capable of it. I'm positive I'm not meant to even have that thought. It's just a trailer-ready moment of melodrama that ends up being spectacularly misjudged. But it not only takes me out of the movie; for me, it turns a supposedly sympathetic character into... well, the opposite of that.

Meaning that the emotional core of the film - the couple - fails to work for me on any level.

Gage takes Diane to his yacht to consummate their agreement.

THE OTHER NOMINEES:

This was the year after Paul Verhoeven's Basic Instinct became a monster hit, and a number of movies attempted to replicate it... almost all of them without success. Body of Evidence was producer Dino de Laurentiis's go, with Willem Dafoe defending Madonna from murder charges when not getting intimate with her on broken glass. In a word: Ouch. The sex is unappealing, Madonna's acting is awful, Dafoe's - amazingly - is just as bad, and the thriller plot is woeful.

Basic Instinct scribe Joe Eszterhas and star Sharon Stone tried to strike "erotic thriller" gold twice with Sliver. Stone isn't bad, but she has no chemistry with co-star William Baldwin. At least their big sex scene is free of sharp objects even if, as staged, it looks more uncomfortable than arousing. The biggest problem is the final Act, which was entirely rewritten and reshot in response to test audiences. The last half hour is incoherent as a result - hardly a surprise, when the entire rest of the movie was building up to a completely different murderer!

Sylvester Stallone's Cliffhanger is thankfully not an erotic thriller. Instead, it's comic book style silliness, with Stallone running shirtless on a snow-covered mountaintop while foiling the dastardly plans of South African baddie John Lithgow, whose accent is either the worst or best thing about the film. It's terrible, but it's also a lot of fun when viewed in the right frame of mind.

The final Worst Picture nominee was The Last Action Hero, in which a young Arnold Schwarzenegger fan is magically transported into a Schwarzenegger movie. I remember really liking this one. That said, I haven't seen it since the 1990s, so it's possible that my memory is playing tricks on me.

Of this set, Body of Evidence and Sliver strike me as the most appropriate Worst Picture candidates. Indecent Proposal may be shallow and a bit stupid, but it's enjoyable enough on its own terms. I can't say the same about those two would-be erotic thrillers.

While dancing with David, Diana is distracted by Gage.

OVERALL:

Indecent Proposal is shallow. Its big moral question is so laughable that it was mocked by projects ranging from Kingpin (a much better Woody Harrelson vehicle) and the sitcom Mad About You. It's too superficial to get invested in, and it undermines whatever connection we might have to the couple by sabotaging the husband's character halfway through. Even so, it's passably entertaining. Robert Redford and Demi Moore both give carefully controlled performances, Oliver Platt steals every scene he's in, and there are several individual scenes that work quite well.

For all of its obvious failings, audiences of the time lapped up Indecent Proposal, and there's still a fair amount to enjoy. Just... maybe fast forward through any of Woody Harrelson's solo scenes.


Rating: Raspberry.

Worst Picture - 1992: Shining Through
Worst Picture - 1994: Color of Night

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