I'm not giving this film a vote because -- Tanya Roberts or no Tanya Roberts -- I couldn't get through the first few minutes. Evidently a lot of people have, which explains why democracy can never be a success.
It's a turn off from the very beginning. The colors are achingly lurid, mostly a kind of neon blue. The acting is about at the level you'd find in a high school play in Freeport, New Jersey. The writing is terrible, as far as I could tell. Two times in the opening minutes, people shout orders at one another followed by an intensifying "now," as in, "Drop the gun in the fireplace -- NOW!" Here's an example of the direction. A would-be rapist is escaping from an apartment and runs into a security guard. The guard takes a swing at the miscreant and misses by a mile. Then he simply stands still, his fists clenched, while his opponent takes his time winding up and finally belting him on the jaw.
In 1982 "Body Heat" was a great success, and it deserved to be -- a slice of colorful neo-noir, that was called an "erotic thriller." That means a combination of suspense, action, nudity, and simulated coitus. It gave rise to a spate of imitations. Some of them were enjoyable. "Unlawful Entry," for instance, is commercial junk but it's well written, involving, and gives us a villain who is human in his flaws.
This one stinks, but it apparently revived a genre that was slowly slipping into Cheyne-Stokes breathing. Too bad.
It's a turn off from the very beginning. The colors are achingly lurid, mostly a kind of neon blue. The acting is about at the level you'd find in a high school play in Freeport, New Jersey. The writing is terrible, as far as I could tell. Two times in the opening minutes, people shout orders at one another followed by an intensifying "now," as in, "Drop the gun in the fireplace -- NOW!" Here's an example of the direction. A would-be rapist is escaping from an apartment and runs into a security guard. The guard takes a swing at the miscreant and misses by a mile. Then he simply stands still, his fists clenched, while his opponent takes his time winding up and finally belting him on the jaw.
In 1982 "Body Heat" was a great success, and it deserved to be -- a slice of colorful neo-noir, that was called an "erotic thriller." That means a combination of suspense, action, nudity, and simulated coitus. It gave rise to a spate of imitations. Some of them were enjoyable. "Unlawful Entry," for instance, is commercial junk but it's well written, involving, and gives us a villain who is human in his flaws.
This one stinks, but it apparently revived a genre that was slowly slipping into Cheyne-Stokes breathing. Too bad.