Reżyseria:
Michael Caton-JonesZdjęcia:
Gyula PadosMuzyka:
John MurphyObsada:
Sharon Stone, David Morrissey, Charlotte Rampling, David Thewlis, Hugh Dancy, Flora Montgomery, Indira Varma, Heathcote Williams, Terence Harvey (więcej)Opisy(1)
W sprawie Cathrine Tramell (Sharon Stone), oskarżonej o zamordowanie kochanka, zaangażowany zostaje uznany londyński psychiatra, Robert Glass (David Morrissey). Jego zadaniem jest udowodnienie jak groźna jest, znana nam z pierwszej części erotycznego thrillera wszechczasów, autorka bestsellerowych kryminałów. Zafascynowany Cathrine, Glass, wbrew swoim zasadom i ostrzeżeniom pozwala na jej na uwodzicielska grę w trakcie dochodzenia. Zda sobie sprawę, że stracił kontrolę nad sytuacją, dopiero gdy ginąć zaczną kolejne osoby z jego najbliższego otoczenia. Opisane przez Cathrine morderstwa, jak wiemy, potrafią przenosić się z literackiej fikcji do realnego życia... (Best Film)
(więcej)Recenzje (5)
Take away everything that made the first Basic Instinct engaging, original, unpredictable, exciting and sexy, and you have Basic Instinct 2. The opening credits are provocative, but David Morrissey kills any potential for any other sex in the film, and there is VERY little of it and it is VERY brief. And the other actors aren’t much better – it would be difficult to find another film so debased by its casting. It can’t be salvaged even by Sharon Stone, whose aged hand obscures her heavily made-up face every time she takes a drag on her cigarette. The screenplay hopelessly parasitizes on the ideas from the first film. The result is a below-average thriller in the style of Color of Night. Basic Instinct 2 is primed to sweep the Golden Raspberry Awards.
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I was curious about this film due to the overwhelmingly negative reviews it received. After watching it, I must say it's not nearly as bad as it's made out to be. However, that doesn't mean it's a good film either. Nonetheless, fans of the genre and those who still appreciate Sharon Stone's remaining charm might give it a second star. The problem is that the main draw of this film was supposed to be the fading star, Stone. Unlike other models who have strayed from the runway to the screen, she is capable of delivering a certain level of acting performance. When supported by a good director and quality co-stars, she can even surpass herself, as she demonstrated in Casino or The Muse. Otherwise, she is a completely average actress who excels at self-presentation. Since this sequel brought together a mediocre director with mediocre actors and a mediocre script, the result is a mediocre industrial product suitable for airing on any commercial TV station any time after midnight for chronic insomniacs. Overall impression: 20%.
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The disappointment of the year. This sequel doesn't offer anything new and mostly just descends into a cheap and ordinary replica of the first part. The actors are tragic, with Sharon Stone being a chapter of her own in her age. On the one hand, I admire her courage to take on such a project, but on the other, not even the stunning makeup can save her. The script is a blatant imitation of the first part, and the ending is so stupid that it can’t possibly have been meant seriously. The setting of London is boring, just like the ordinary conversations between the patient (Stone) and the therapist (David Morrissey). There is very little sex (I don't know how much was cut out, maybe the DVD will tell us), and when it does happen, there is hardly any boldness to speak of. Everything follows the standard Hollywood formula, and that's essentially the whole film. A needless sequel, better forget about it or watch the first part instead.
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I haven't seen something this unexpectedly bad in a long time. The first hour of the film dragged on so that it felt like two hours, the second for three, Sharon Stone was almost cheaply awkward and the sexist innuendos she made in every other sentence were boring. I prefer not to even mention the unsympathetic dummy, who was her equal in terms of non-acting. Unfortunately, Michael Caton-Jones couldn't save this spectacular mess, and John Murphy wouldn't have gotten laid without Goldsmith's motif. A totally unnecessary film.
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This was almost torture to watch. Sharon Stone's character in the sequel seems more like a caricature of her role in the first film, and she doesn't have anyone noteworthy to stand against. The problem is that the screenplay essentially tries to be an English copy of the previous film, but neither the screenplay nor the direction has the right touch, failing to create tension. It's really impossible to talk about it being erotic.
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