Basic Instinct
Itâs hard to believe that the genre of erotic thriller is now almost considered a lost cinematic art form of the 1990s. Featuring lurid stories consisting of deceitful women, betrayal, and lots and lots of sex, these films became a never ending staple on late night pay cable during that decade (practically leading Cinemax to be relabeled âSkinemaxâ by many people for their seemingly endless well of these types of films) with their own fanbase and assortment of popular sex kitten stars who almost appeared to do these films exclusively including Shannon Whirry, Jacqueline Lovell, and even Tanya Roberts on the low end of her career. One looks back at this genre and their conniving plots and wonder just exactly why we donât really see much of their kind anymore (outside of porn films which these were certainly not since they usually featured slick camerawork and high production values), and the answer is obvious: most of the males in these films were not blow dryed pretty boys but rather instead ruggedly handsome, extremely masculine types who were not afraid to play resolutely straight men who would tear into their female co stars with almost total abandon onscreen (hence why many of these films were âunratedâ) while todayâs typical Hollywood males have bent to the age of political correctness where non pornographic, guy on girl movie sex is actually considered to be too passe. The trail blazer for starring in these type of films of course, is Michael Douglas, long thought of as being one of the most masculine leading men of the 80s (with an Oscar win to boot) who first turned heads in this type of production with 1987âs Fatal Attraction, playing a married man who tears into a heated affair with another woman who later comes to stalk his family after he ultimately rejects her. But the real watershed for Douglas (and the erotic thriller genre itself) was this 1992 release that literally caused a worldwide sensation for its megahot sex scenes, lurid storyline twists and turns, and a supposedly negative portrayal of gay (or rather bisexual) women as evil manipulators ready, willing and able to destroy anyone whom they choose even if plenty of straight women in real life can carry that same attitude and the bisexual angle was strictly to up the kink factor here. Douglas plays a San Francisco police detective with a very sordid past, having labored through a cocaine addiction, having his wife commit suicide and being at the center of an internal affairs investigation over having accidentally shot two innocent civilians during an undercover operation gone wrong (for which he was cleared). One day, he lands a case that is a doozy: a retired rock star turned nightclub owner found dead in bed with several fatal wounds inflicted by an ice pick, covered in blood and his own manly secretions which leads the cops to conclude that a woman did it during the act of sex when she had him at his most vulnerable (although DNA evidence which doesnât exist in this cinematic universe would have readily identified the killer). What makes the whole film so interesting from here on out is in the way that the movie practically rubs the viewerâs nose in who the killer is (and even advertises itself as such) before launching into a complex storyline designed to make us believe that the very same character might just be innocent (and both director Paul Verhoeven and screenwriter Joe Eszterhas have confirmed that this was their plan all along in order to clear up any confusion) when really it was all just part of a diabolical plan by a sick, evil, twisted mind.  Sharon Stone (an actress who spent years laboring in B movies and supporting roles) burst into the Hollywood mainstream with a vengeance as Catherine Tramell, a writer of trashy murder mystery novels for which she really doesnât need the money since she is said to be worth over $100 million dollars through an inheritance. She also carries with her a dual Masters degree in both literature and psychology (uh oh), an attraction to other beautiful (but royally fucked up) women whom she keeps almost as pets and an unlucky history of having loved ones and others who go near her die under mysterious circumstances. But if the director and screenwriter are to be believed, it is all really part of her sick game, with defining yet unsaid explanations ranging anywhere from her being some kind of a paganistic type of witch (the rock star murder in the opening scene does have kind of a ritualistic sacrifice quality to it) with her own lesbian coven to being someone with a severe God complex who doesnât only enjoy ending lives, but also forcing certain people to have to live a tormented existence through her own manipulative nature. Douglasâ cop is certainly taken aback by her: she boldly looks him in the eye and teases him about personal issues which she should know nothing about (thanks to having a corrupt cop on her payroll who has fed her his entire life story) while at other times coming to him all sad eyed and vulnerable making him want to take care of her. When called in for questioning, it comes out that the rock starâs murder in every detail was taken directly from one of her own trashy novels and (despite the fact that she was in a relationship with him) allowing her to literally dare the cops into thinking that she wouldnât be so audacious (and stupid) enough to recreate something that she had written about in a real life situation even as she sits there in an interrogation room during the filmâs most famous scene and drives all of the cops crazy by revealing that sheâs not wearing any panties (which Stone reportedly claimed that she wasnât aware that the scene would be so graphic even as it made her iconic). Douglas for his part canât help but get close to her every chance he gets, telling himself that it will help him unmask her as the killer when really he is just driven by his incredibly primal need to have insane amounts of sex with her thanks to her more than successful efforts at getting deep inside his head (which also causes him to renew his bad habits of smoking and drinking). This causes lots of consternation to Douglasâ best friend and partner on the force (George Dzundza), a no nonsense type who sees right through Stone from the word go and maintains to the bitter end that Douglas should not fall into her clutches as well as Douglasâ current girlfriend (Jeanne Tripplehorn), a police psychologist who is actually legitimately in love with him but still keeps a professional manner about her so as not to jeopardize her career. The sickest thing about the Stone character is the revelation that as the events of the story unfold, she uses her connections to keep tabs on the most recent happenings which she then incorporates into the latest book that she is currently writing, basically deciding how the story plays out by keeping an ironclad control on the real life events as they occur. And the sex? Well, whether you are watching either the R or âUnratedâ cut of the film, there is no doubt that this was easily one of the most explicit major motion pictures ever released, thus reinforcing the idea that âsex sellsâ as we watch these major stars going at it onscreen with the conceit being that Stone has driven Douglas so batshit crazy with lust that when he does get his chance, the concept of choice on his part doesnât even factor into it as his experiences with her have completely altered his own personality for the worst (even when dealing with others) and expands on the notion that he is reverting to almost a Neanderthal state from dealing with her much to her delight. And this, my friends, was also the core selling point of the ton of other erotic thrillers yet to come before they kind of petered out in the early 2000s, but what makes this one so forever significant is Stoneâs performance, incredibly beautiful but yet still allowing herself to be given away by her seemingly cold, emotionless nature when talking about people, referring to past relationships by saying things like âHe wasnât my boyfriend. I was fucking him.â and helping to put across the notion that any sexual relations are for the sole purpose of pleasure only and that any actual concept of feelings or âloveâ does not really exist (as opposed to Douglas who tells her point blank that heâs in love with her) while also knowing just how easy it is for her to elicit that very same emotion from the opposite sex. Full of gruesome murders, wild sex, and a series of plot twists (including Stoneâs truly intended target of revenge) engineered by one of the most fascinatingly sinister female performances of the 20th century, this remains both the first and last word within the genre which it representsâŚ
8/10