Let me be up-front, I like pulp. However it is like one of these "easier dives" that you see at the Olympics. It has to be marked down a little because it is easier to give a cheap thrill than drag you inside the world of, say, a late medieval painter.
This is only a two hour ghost train ride and while often (or more accurately, most of the time!) ludicrous and unlikely it always goes forward and it always entertains. If not always in the right way. Check out the memorable quotes section for a chuckle.
(However quite why it has been given a "Worst Film" Razzie is baffling - I bet there was a thousand worse films made in 2006, but this film got the treatment because it was viewed as a fashionable victim.)
Head case and popular novelist Catherine Tramell (Sharon Stone) is now over in London writing a novel, but death and destruction follow her around like flies follow a horse during a spot of hot weather. God heavens, she can't even visit the toilet without tripping over at least two corpses and I am sure if she opened the closet in her vast penthouse flat one would come tumbling out in grand Hollywood style.
Yes, clearly a very dangerous lady to be circling around (if you like your pulse to be above zero), but is she personally responsible? I mean why would anyone put two-and-two together and start thinking she might be a murderer? Equally her reaction to such accusations seems very casual. However is this just a personality disorder (some form of b/s risk addiction) or further evidence of her guilt?
For reasons I cannot fully understand or explain Stone is assigned to psychiatrist Michael Glass (David Morrissey) for evaluation rather than taken down the cells following another "lover found dead in mysterious circumstances". Thankfully (for Stone) he is far crazier than any of his patients and has a troubled home/working life of his own. In the blink of an eye the relationship changes from doctor to patient and then it is hard to tell because it all becomes something of a revolving blur.
In to this heady mix comes Roy Washburn (a strange Welsh sounding David Thewlis) who tells the love struck doctor - in his capacity of policeman of many years standing - that the lady in question may be dangerous. I mean, hold the front page. However Glass is now too glassy-eyed to realise or care. Like a dizzy boxer in front of a prime-time Mike Tyson he ripe for the big take-down, however not before finding that Washburn might have a secret or two himself.
Now comes Millena Gardosh (Charlotte Rampling) a fellow psychiatrist and a rare example (in this film) of someone who isn't barking mad or else a murder suspect. Presuming that she has actually watched the finished film she must look back with nostalgia when her underwear came off with the ease of Stone's - thankfully (for us at least) those days are long gone. Strangely she doesn't think Stone is quite as dangerous as everyone else - or else she doesn't think the script is good enough or her cheque large enough to do any proper acting.
After several laps of the track roughly outlined above it comes to a climax that mixes provincial rep with a cliff-hanger/twist, that while as farcical as the rest of the movie, gives us enough elbowroom for Basic Instinct 3 - highly unlikely this may be at this point in time.

What a waste! This movie could have really been something decent, but the writing, in particular, is crap, and the main characters are rather shallow and uninteresting. Mike Meyers was good, and the historical recreation of late 70s decadence was well crafted, but overall, this movie was a big waste of time. Instead, the movie to watch, that deals with similar themes and the same basic time frame, is the great BOOGIE NIGHTS.