Ella-May O'Brien
Each character in this movie — down to the smallest one — is an individual rather than a type, prone to spontaneous changes of mood and sometimes amusing outbursts of pettiness or ill humor.
Tracy_Terry_Moore
Bo Derek is a housewife whom these days spends her time watching HSN and receiving mail order finger sandwiches. When Bo's scumbag husband is kidnapped, it is detective Jack Scalia who tries to find out what the hell is going on. Jack inadvertently falls for Bo (who wouldn't?) and his investigation becomes a labyrinth of clues and visits to Bo's jacuzzi. The boring flip-flopping storyline might make you sleepy and dizzy, but the ladies can enjoy handsome Jack and the men can look at beautiful Bo, in fact, call me when Bo is in the hot tub again - I'll be in the kitchen having a cup of coffee and a pop tart.
rsoonsa
An ongoing and tiresome motif occurring in many contemporary films pertains to dissension within the ranks of law enforcement agencies with the leading player being some kind of maverick when called to account by his lieutenant, captain, chief or whomever, upbraided for his wayward ways, yet grudgingly given a final opportunity for redemption ere his career is permanently struck down by his choleric supervisor. In this movie, the ultimatum is administered to FBI agent Brian Dillon (Jack Scalia) whose probable final assignment will be an attempt to solve the kidnapping of a wealthy clothing manufacturer whose wife Helen, acted with her customary minute dramatic range by Bo Derek, does not try to disguise abhorrence of her abducted husband, Ben. When Ben is purportedly murdered by the kidnappers, the Bureau closes the case, but meantime Brian and the ungrieving widow have become lovers, a situation complicated by such issues as fraud, embezzlement, and the persistent presence of David (John Savage), Helen's ex-lover and also brother of her late spouse. In addition to the obvious closed space behind Derek's baby blues, the work is burdened with fatal flaws, especially a scenario that is rife with unfillable holes in its plotting for which a plethora of twists and turns are not compensatory, as the scriptor has eliminated the requisite component of suspense. Scalia is pleasing as ever, creating and improving his scenes, however, Carol Lawrence has a majority of her footage cut, unfortunate as she enlivens the action, in particular when paired with somnolent Derek; generous budgeting is utilized to good advantage by making the film look and sound good, and able efforts are turned in by cinematographer Thomas Del Ruth, designer Alfred Sole, costumer Barbara Palmer, and editor Carl Kress, and the sound mixing is top-notch, all unhappily at the service of an absurd screenplay.
