CRIMINAL PASSION
D: Donna Deitch; with Joan Severance, Anthony John Denison, John Allen
Nelson, David Labiosa, Wolfgang Bodison, Shannon Wilcox, Henry Darrow.
Vidmark Entertainment
Criminal Passion? Never heard of it. Initially, that was enough
to get me to pull the box off the video store shelf. The visible information
rang no immediate bells, at least not until I reached the director’s credit.
Listed as director is Donna Deitch, the filmmaker who, in 1985, broke into
feature filmmaking with the beloved lesbian love story Desert Hearts, a
project which she wrote, produced, and directed. Since then, not much has been
seen of Deitch. I know she directed the Oprah Winfrey-produced TV movie The
Women of Brewster Place in 1989 and one segment of the all women-directed,
made-for-cable, compilation movie Prison Stories: Women on the Inside in
1991. But, beyond that, who knows? So, immediately I’m interested. From its
box, Criminal Passion looked like one of those “sexy crime thrillers”
featuring a woman detective in an otherwise all-male world, the kind of drama
we’ve seen done badly too frequently, and done well hardly ever. Criminal
Passion lands in the much-better-than-average category, though it often
falls victim to some stunted plotting and acting, as well as other low-budget
lapses. Still, the movie has lots going for it and I’m always a sucker for
stories about women sleuths whose taste for danger and control leads them to
identify with their lawbreaking prey. This quality is part of what makes them
successful at their jobs, but it’s also something that makes them emotionally
vulnerable. In this sense, Criminal Passion belongs to a category of
films that is best exemplified by Lizzie Borden’s spectacularly messy Love
Crimes (even beyond the similar titles), which stars Sean Young, and the
Sondra Locke-directed Impulse starring Theresa Russell. There are also
shades here of TV’s Under Suspicion and Prime Suspect series.
Severance plays Mel (full name: Melanie), the only woman on an LAPD detective
team assigned to capture a serial killer who slashes his female victims. One of
Mel’s partners is in love with her, another is black and in the closet, and the
other says enlightened things like, “Just keep yer panty shield on.” Of course,
the only man to rev her motor is the primary suspect, Connor Ashcroft (played
by John Allen Nelson, who co-wrote and co-produced this movie with Max Strom),
a kinky ladies’ man and senator’s son. Some of the camera work is gorgeous,
accented by long, fluid tracking shots such as the voyeuristic beaut that opens
the movie. The dialogue can often be rough or clich�d, but it
nevertheless comes up with some gems like this assessment: “Just like a sore
dick. Can’t beat it.” In the final analysis, Criminal Passion has more
style than substance and, even then, the style often falls short of its mark.
But this 1993 film, seemingly released straight-to-video, deserves a fate far
better than this certain condemnation to obscurity. – Marjorie
Baumgarten
ROBOCOP
D: Paul Verhoeven; with Peter Weller, Nancy Allen, Daniel O’Herlihy, Ronny
Cox, Kurtwood Smith, Miguel Ferrer, Robert DoQui, Ray Wise, Felton Perry.
Voyager/Criterion Laserdisc
This unexpected 1987 sci-fi smash, the first of many stateside hits to
be made by foreign arthouse director Paul Verhoeven, is finally available, a
mere eight years later, in its original, uncut version. Widely praised for its
darkly funny look at big business in the future, as well as disowned for its
brutal violence, those who thought Robocop was too violent in its
theatrical version had best stay away from this latest Criterion restoration,
as all of the extra footage consists of (you guessed it) more violence. Luckily
for those squeamish folks, this new material – which adds footage to ED 209’s
hilarious boardroom malfunction and Peter Weller’s horrific execution (making
use of an astonishingly lifelike Weller puppet) – barely amounts to over a
minute of screen time… although it is a highly memorable minute. The disc is
slightly, and accurately, letterboxed, but the real treat here is the
insightful commentary track from director Verhoeven, producer Jon Davidson, and
writer Ed Neumeier that prompts all sorts of new ways of looking at the film –
from Robocop/Murphy as a Christ figure to a retelling of Paradise Lost.
In comparison, the supplementary section comes across as disappointingly weak
and lazy, much more interested in testing out new laserdisc technology (the
text moves and shifts along with stills and footage from the film) than
actually dishing out any genuinely interesting information. With the notable
exception of a section showcasing the storyboard art of planned, but unfilmed,
sequences, this document fails to live up to Criterion’s perfectionist
standards. However, despite these drawbacks, it’s really nice to see
Robocop treated with the respect it deserves. It’s also nice to see how
well the movie holds up in the wake of two lackluster sequels, a television
series, and an animated series – none of which ever matched the style, wit,
and, now more than ever, the guts of the original. The movie is presented in
frame-perfect CAV, which allows viewers frame-by-frame access to some of the
greatest blood squibs in cinema history, familiar Dallas skylines, and
absolutely wonderful stop-motion animation which, incidentally, serve to remind
us of how much more inventive special effects were before the advent of digital
technology. – Joey O’Bryan
This article appears in June 16 • 1995 and June 16 • 1995 (Cover).