Camp Fire

Might as well face it, she's addicted to risk: Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct 2. Photo Jaap Buitendijk. Courtesy Sony Pictures.

Basic Instinct (1992) was one of the biggest hits of the ’90s, grossing more than $350 million and transforming its star, Sharon Stone, from a dime-a-dozen actress-slash-model to an overnight icon. Not that the film was good, or without controversy (gay activists angry at its portrayal of murderous bisexuals protested screenings with placards declaring the film’s ending), but writer Joe Eszterhas (Showgirls, Flashdance) and director Paul Verhoeven (Showgirls, Total Recall) had a knack for churning out schlocky B-movies that entertained even as they offended. Incoherent plot aside, the film paid stylish tribute to Hitchcock — Stone’s character, mystery writer Catherine Tramell, was dressed to resemble Kim Novak’s con artist in Vertigo, which like Basic Instinct was set in San Francisco. And, of course, there was that infamous leg crossing scene, one of the most paused movie moments in the history of VCRs. Stone has since said that Verhoeven tricked her into the shot. His sleazy prank paid off: the scene was Stone’s best in the film, a masterful display of her sex goddess power.

The film’s sequel, Basic Instinct 2: Risk Addiction, has all of its vulgarity, but none of its style. It opens with Stone’s man-eater Catherine — an author whose murder plots tend to suspiciously mirror reality — decamped to a miraculously gridlock-free and sparsely populated London. Careening through the streets in an expensive sports car, she is on the receiving end of a little loving at the hands of the sexy, narcotized footballer who’s riding shotgun, but her high speed orgasm is interrupted when the car spins out of control and crashes into the Thames. Catherine survives, but the footballer does not. And Scotland Yard detective Roy Washburn (a slumming David Thewlis — maybe he has a big mortgage) suspects she might have planned the athlete’s death. To determine Catherine’s mental state, Washburn calls in psychiatrist Michael Glass, played by British actor David Morrissey. (Who? Exactly. Viggo Mortensen, Kurt Russell, Benicio Del Toro and Aaron Eckhart all reportedly turned down the role. Not a good sign.)

It was the heat of the moment: David Morrissey and Sharon Stone exchange intense gazes in Basic Instinct 2. Photo Jaap Buitendijk. Courtesy Sony Pictures.

Michael’s interview with Catherine is set up to be a battle of wits between two complicated masterminds. And if by “complicated masterminds,” director Michael Caton-Jones and writers Leora Barish and Henry Bean mean “braless” (Catherine) and “boring” (Michael), then tally-ho, mates. Catherine saunters into Michael’s examining room in London’s phallic glass and steel Gherkin building, with all the erotic subtlety of a sixth grader giggling at the word “boobie.” “So is this where we’re going to do it?” she asks. Michael determines that she’s of sound mind, but dangerously “addicted to risk” and the charges against Catherine are dismissed.

From that point on, the plot doesn’t thicken so much as curdle. Catherine manipulates Michael into taking her on as a private patient, which he does despite the protests of his mentor, who, despite being played by the glorious Charlotte Rampling can’t quite class up this mess. Like Catherine, Michael has a skeleton or two in his closet — a drug dealer patient he was treating killed his girlfriend and there are suggestions that Michael could have prevented the murder. The scandal ruined Michael’s marriage and his ex-wife’s new boyfriend, a muckraking journalist, is sniffing around to prove that Michael was culpable. When the journalist ends up dead — he’s found naked on his bed, garroted with a dog collar — just about every character in the film is implicated, especially Catherine.

Yet, even as more bodies pile up, there is never a moment of tension or suspense. That’s the trouble with making a film about psychiatrists. Unlike cops, who might actually go out and do something, Michael and Catherine talk. And talk. And when Stone reprises the money shot from the first movie — hiking up her skirt and straddling a chair — and propositions Michael with a filthy come-on, it’s delivered with the passion of an airline boarding announcement. Their eventual sex scene is equally fizzless — despite his interesting foreplay technique of trying to drown her in a Jacuzzi.

Stone is rumoured to have an IQ of 153; she’s smart enough anyway to have brokered a “pay or play” deal for Basic Instinct 2, meaning she would have received her $14-million paycheque whether or not the film got made. She seems to have interpreted the arrangement as not having to act at all; or, maybe what appears to be some pretty pricey surgical work gets in the way of her emoting.

Still, Stone’s delightful turn as a NASCAR widow in Broken Flowers proves that she hasn’t lost her chops and she does have her moments in this film. When she tosses off the line, “some guys are into blondes and some guys are into killers,” it reveals the deliriously awful Showgirls-style camp that might have been. If only Stone had channelled more of the mad-as-a-hatter, manic glee she’s exhibited in her public appearances of late, this film may have taken off. The problem with Basic Instinct 2 isn’t that it’s bad. It’s that it’s just not bad enough.

Rachel Giese writes about the arts for CBC.ca.

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