Whatever magic and power this had on the stage is lost on the screen. Scripted by Mastrosimone from his own play, this movie attempts to make a statement about the subject of rape, but ultimately fails because of weak pacing, limp dialogue, and horrendous supporting performances.
The film begins with Fawcett's character getting off work. She is terrorized by a man in a parking lot. She is able to get away and runs to the cops, who are impotent to do anything. Fast forward several days later: Fawcett is at the home she shares with her two friends. The two friends head off to their respective jobs, and moments later, Fawcett's attacker arrives at home and proceeds to slap her around and attack her in the most sadistic, brutal (and exploitative) ways. Then, she turns the tables on him. As he has a grip on her, she reaches for a can of bug spray, gets him in the eyes, throws a pot of hot water on him, then proceeds to tie him up and stuff him in the fireplace, figuring out what to do next.
At this point, much of what has gone on is remotely suspenseful. However, once the two roommates re-enter the picture, the movie becomes banal, with some horrendous dialogue (mostly shouting matches where "idiot" and "moron" are tossed around.) Since there was no actual rape, Fawcett realizes she has no case, and the cops will only let the man free to attack her again. Moreover, she can't make her own roommates believe her. The climax of the film is soap-opera material, and nothing more.
I don't feel the need to comment much more on this, except that the ending doesn't ring true, Alfre Woodard has gone on to more worthy projects ("Grand Canyon", "Down In The Delta"), and this one probably should've been left on the stage. A frustrating movie that I can't recommend.
The film begins with Fawcett's character getting off work. She is terrorized by a man in a parking lot. She is able to get away and runs to the cops, who are impotent to do anything. Fast forward several days later: Fawcett is at the home she shares with her two friends. The two friends head off to their respective jobs, and moments later, Fawcett's attacker arrives at home and proceeds to slap her around and attack her in the most sadistic, brutal (and exploitative) ways. Then, she turns the tables on him. As he has a grip on her, she reaches for a can of bug spray, gets him in the eyes, throws a pot of hot water on him, then proceeds to tie him up and stuff him in the fireplace, figuring out what to do next.
At this point, much of what has gone on is remotely suspenseful. However, once the two roommates re-enter the picture, the movie becomes banal, with some horrendous dialogue (mostly shouting matches where "idiot" and "moron" are tossed around.) Since there was no actual rape, Fawcett realizes she has no case, and the cops will only let the man free to attack her again. Moreover, she can't make her own roommates believe her. The climax of the film is soap-opera material, and nothing more.
I don't feel the need to comment much more on this, except that the ending doesn't ring true, Alfre Woodard has gone on to more worthy projects ("Grand Canyon", "Down In The Delta"), and this one probably should've been left on the stage. A frustrating movie that I can't recommend.