The Task: Watch and write about every movie on my shelf, in order (Blu-rays are sorted after DVDs), by June 10, 2015. Remaining movies: 134 Days to go: 92
Movie #306: Wild Things
Sadly this movie seems to have been misalphabetized as well, though in fairness to me the DVD case does make it appear like the title is all one word: Wildthings. I know Wildthings is not an actual word, but it’s not like this would be the first known instance of a movie having a fake word as a title. Oh well.
Wild Things is an insanely crazy movie that’s not a big step up from just being soft-core porn. Actually, considering you get full-frontal on Kevin Bacon’s penis AND that he was clearly manipulating it in that shower scene to sport a respectable half-wood on camera, it’s not even a step up. It’s just soft-core porn. But as pornos go, Wild Things has a pretty stellar plot.
Wild Things is a sex thriller inside a sex thriller inside a sex thriller, a heist inside a heist inside a heist, and a double-cross inside a double-cross inside a double-cross. Nothing and no one is exactly as it seems, and the moment you’ve gotten it all figured out, there’s another twist to unravel. It’s cheesy and tacky and eye-rollingly extreme in its living manifestation of a male sex fantasy, but — and I can’t stress this enough — it is SO. MUCH. FUN.
Matt Dillon is Sam Lombardo, a sexy and stand-up blue-collar teacher at an exceedingly affluent school. He has a definite reputation with the ladies, which he appears to have earned, he has a taste for money, and he even tends to attract the infatuations of some of his students. It could get a guy in trouble.
Denise Richards is oversexed and overprivileged Kelly Van Ryan. She’s a mean girl with a porn star’s body, and she definitely takes advantage of both those traits. She has a spoiled, rich, promiscuous life, living under the example of her spoiled, rich, promiscuous mother, and she tends to get what she wants. She has no use for poor white trash, shitty houses, people who try to tell her what to do, or anyone who crosses her. She definitely has a thing for Sam Lombardo.
Bacon is Detective Ray Duquette, a maybe dirty cop with a maybe itchy trigger finger and a definite willingness to subvert the rules of procedure. He likes to boss people around, likes to take things into his own hands, and in his spare time likes to shoot secret video of two teenage girls having a violent physical fight that turns into an explicit sexual encounter. Which I guess is run of the mill around the Everglades? I don’t know. He’s shady, though. I wouldn’t trust him.
Neve Campbell is the poor white trash thorn in everyone’s side, though Mr. Lombardo does tend to look out for her. She’s got dyed hair and black nail polish, so you know she’s a thug. She likes to smoke weed and get drunk and tell people off, and her first encounter with Kelly involved her flipping her off while doing a cunnilingus tongue move. She doesn’t give a fuck. Not one. She’s gotten busted before and she’s definitely a magnet for trouble, but people tend to underestimate her. She’s definitely capable of fucking you over if she wants.
And Bill Murray is maybe not-so-incompetent ambulance chasing attorney Kenneth Bowden, working out of a strip mall on the ghetto side of town. I could say more, but I’m pretty sure that would break the attorney-client privilege. He’s not above flipping off Robert Wagner in a limo from his piece of shit hatchback, though. Then again, who is?
Wild Things is such a fantastically terrible movie it comes all the way back around to great. The plot is twisted and layered, the musical score is sultry and insistent, and the players are all hiding something. It’s campy and ridiculous and absurd, and I love every perfectly scored second of it. “People aren’t always what they appear to be. Don’t forget that.”
Viable Option 