Basic Instinct 2
Actually, this really, really late sequel to Paul Verhoeven’s terrific 1992 erotic thriller has some interesting ideas, a couple of decent sex scenes, and some quality music from John Murphy (the “28 Days Later” composer does- of course- recycle the late Jerry Goldsmith’s sinuous theme often, and even- during the big sex scene- incorporates what struck me as a porn-like guitar riff). Unfortunately, the ideas feel more like artificial creations to try and keep the audience interested in the ludicrous and otherwise derivative storyline than genuine surprises, as we watch as Catherine Tramell- the novelist played by Sharon Stone in both films (the first one made her a star)- is caught up in a complicated mindfuck of a story where murders are taking place around her in London- maybe she’s the culprit- and she messes with the head of a psychiratrist assigned to see if she’s a risk to herself. The psychiatrist is played by David Morrisey, who lacks both the charisma and edge supplied by Michael Douglas in the original “Instinct”- his bland line readings and one-note performance serve to show just how vital a presence Douglas was in the original. That’s the biggest problem onscreen, apart from the routine plotting, Stone’s gratingly awful reprisal (she appears to be on perpetual “wink to the audience” mode), and interesting character actors (like David Thewis- from “Kingdom of Heaven”- and Charlotte Rampling- from “Swimming Pool”) in wasted roles. But the film has bigger problems offscreen. Lacking Verhoeven and writer Joe Estherhas’ go-for-broke daring behind the camera is bad enough; the idea of David Cronenberg (“A History of Violence,” “Spider”)- the Canadian director whose psychological thrillers are as intriguing and unsettling as Verhoeven’s best are- being turned down for the director’s chair when producers wouldn’t let him use his usual crew- which includes master cinematographer Peter Suschitzky (“Spider,” “The Empire Strikes Back”) and Oscar-winning composer Howard Shore (whose dense, dark scores for the director are in the same psychological mold of Goldsmith’s for the original “Instinct”)- is even worse. Here’s a filmmaker who could have made a sequel as shocking and audacious as the original film was, and he’s turned down by producers (assuming he really was interested), who turn to a director in Michael Caton-Jones (“Rob Roy,” “The Jackel”), who does what he can with this nonsense but doesn’t dig deep enough to make a film that’s anything but soft core stupidity. It could’ve been so much more…
