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Review #81 of 365
Film: Basic Instinct 2 [R] 113 minutes
WIP™ Scale: $11.25
When 1st Seen: 1 April 2006
Where Viewed: Cinemark Tinseltown USA, Rochester, NY
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When Basic Instinct was released, some thought of it as a sleeper film that leapt to the center stage due to a now infamous scene that has been copied and referenced in countless films since featuring a then still relatively new actress, Sharon Stone. The film moved her career in the industry to a new track and made her a household name. Unfortunately, as is often the case especially for female actors, the plum roles and marquee films seem few and far between. I don’t think audiences are really as fickle as Hollywood when it comes to age, however, nonetheless, she has never really had a role worthy of her talents since, that is until now. Here we are nearly 14 years later, and we have what is, I suppose sort of a sequel to Basic Instinct. Sharon Stone once again dons the persona of Catherine Tramwell and finds herself on the radar of the legal system in London quite quickly when she happens to be present at the time an English football (we call it soccer for some reason in the USA) star is drowned in a gorgeous Spyker C8 Laviolette. Of course, the audience of the film will know that she was not only present, she was involved in a graphic sexual act at 161 kph (we are still using 100 mph in the USA for some reason) that culminates in her arousal to the point of crashing through a building and a plate glass window straight into, I’m only guessing because it was too dark to be sure, the Thames River? (but don’t quote me on that). While London seems to be the setting for the film, no obvious point of confirming or denying that it is taking place in London was made save for a fixation by both the filmmaker and Catherine Trammel on London’s bullet-shaped, 30 St. Mary Axe building which houses the office of Doctor Michael Glass (David Morrissey)—the doctor who has been brought in by the English Prosecutors to determine if she is mentally able to stand trial as the suspected murderer of soccer star. For the first twenty minutes of the film or so, you may well not know really what to make of this film. By the end you may well still be wondering, for in the end, it is very difficult to ascertain reality from fantasy as the clues are subtle to what the real truth is—and no, I don’t mean to imply that this is simply a matter of perspective. It is the genuine manner in which the film actually practices to deceive the audience just as Catherine Trammel lies to everyone in her path leaving them to clean up the mess or literally die trying in her wake.
As psychological thrillers go, this one is relatively cool, and it is difficult to remember a central character as deliciously devilish as written-with-Sharon-Stone-in-mind, Catherine Trammel. In the role, Ms Stone shines with mega-star written all over her. For her fans, this is what they’ve been eagerly awaiting for over a decade. From nearly the opening, though unbeknownst to the audience, she has enveloped them just as her character eventually ensnares every other character in the film into her web of deceit and murderous risk-taking from the noble-turned-bad-boy Dr. Glass and the peculiarly vengeful police investigator, Roy Washburn (David Thewlis), to the elegant, mentor psychiatrist, Dr. Milena Gardosh (Charlotte Rampling), and the smarmy ubber-journalist Adam Towers (Hugh Dancy). Catherine leaves no one untouched; and, yet, the deeper Dr. Glass embeds (literally and figuratively) himself in the life of his newly acquired patient, living vicariously and precariously through her risk-addiction behavior, the more dangerous his own life becomes. Absolutely, the aluminum foil-thin distance between his own sanity and utter mental chaos shall be breached the further he identifies with and needs her. She is like a drug to which everyone around her becomes addicted, and the only way out is certain death.
I found the film fascinating, beguiling, and entertaining. I also found it equally frustrating, not because of the intrigue and mystery that kept me guessing but because the script did not end up having to prove itself valid. Immediately upon first seeing the Sixth Sense, for example, I went right back and bought another ticket to see it a second time. I wanted to see if the film proved to stand up to the twist, and it did. Basic Instinct 2 cannot withstand the scrutiny. There is no proof of what happened. Every person will be left to his or her won conclusion. In reality, there is no way to tell if anything in the film really happened or, if instead, we might have just been listening to Catherine Trammel reading her new book to her literary agent over the phone—which, actually, might have been a better ending that the one the filmmaker delivered. Still, I enjoyed the film and find it worthy of your consideration at the W.I.P. Scale™ value of $11.25.
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