REVIEW: Basic Instinct 2
April 01, 2006
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A little bit of Film History 101 for those for whom cinema-consciousness doesn't extend back to 1992: The original "Basic Instinct" was the nominal high-point in a pair then-booming Hollywood trends: The "erotic thriller" (read: murder mystery with lots of nudity) and "neo-noir" (1940s-style crime/detective dramas transplanted into modern settings.) When it went into production, the "big deal" was that screenwriter Joe Esterhaz had been paid a then-astonishing $3 Million for his work, helping touch off the L.A. screenwriting "spec boom." When it was being marketed, the "big deal" was that seemingly every major starlet had turned down the aggressively-sexual lead role, instead seeing it go to Sharon Stone, at the time a B-lister. When it actually came out, the "big deal" was that gay-rights activists were protesting the film due to the "plot twist" that had Stone's character as a bisexual (this make shock those of you under the age of 16, but circa-1992 "girl-on-girl action" WASN'T something you were garaunteed to see in every sexually-explicit movie; and this is the flick that helped fix that grave injustice.) Oh! Um... it was ALSO kind of a "big deal" that you could see Sharon Stone's bare pussy when she uncrossed her legs in the film's most famous scene.
Hate to break it to you, Mrs. Stone, but if "Basic Instinct 2" works as a celebration of anything, it's as a celebration of how lucky we were that "Basic Instinct 1" turned out as good as it did. This sequel jettison's everyone and everything from the original save for Stone and her nudity, and the result serves as an ultimate rebuttal against the argument that said original rose and fell by said nudity alone: She's doing the same routine, and she's just as naked, but without Paul Verhoeven's considerable directorial flourish or Esterhas' functionally-lurid imagination, and only a sampling of Jerry Goldsmith's excellent score, this sequel is even more useless, empty and uninspired as one might've guessed. The characters are blanks and the "mystery" is uninteresting; it's just an expensive stage from which a one-time sex symbol pleads for our attention.
There's really nothing to see here. The much-touted "explicit" scenes are almost-nonexistant, no doubt waiting to see light on DVD. The new London setting provides little excitement, save the fun of seeing reliable Brit talents like David Thewlis and Charlotte Rampling try very earnestly to pretend there's a worthy film in here, somewhere. Not so lucky is Brit TV mainstay David Morrissey, stuck in the thankless role of a psychiatrist who diagnoses Tramell as a "risk addict," only to find her slinking her way into his already-messy personal and professional life.
It's a foregone conclusion that you can find infinitely more explicit "erotic thrillers" than "Basic Instinct 2" lining the DVD shelves or cropping up on Cable. But it's surprising, and a little alarming, that most of them will also be better overall films as well.
FINAL RATING: 3/10