Young woman is attacked twice by a handsome, cackling psychotic, the second time in her own home. Based on the hit play, the screen translation doesn't work. The material is too one-dimensional, and the heroine is a problem. Did the filmmakers think that if we were shown a strong (headstrong, physically and emotionally strong) woman, we wouldn't be interested in seeing her turn the tables on this scheming psycho? Why is it that Farrah Fawcett is made to gape in shock, lethargic when she should be active? Later, after crawling along the carpet as the camera closes in, she slaps at the man in a playground manner. Yes, she gets in some digs at his expense, but she can't even get her own roommates to believe her story (these 'friends' obviously have no idea who she is, where she came from, what she's been through--they are stock-idiots in the screenwriter's stable of clichés). The attacker is not some slimy worm--which would've worked--but a muscular mechanic-type with a New Yawk drawl and tight-across-the-rear blue jeans. The formulaic structuring and presentation here provide hostility and resentment instead of food for thought. It leaves us whipped and bowed, but conscious only of the fact we have seen Farrah being ordered to cook her attacker breakfast--and then having her naked breast foisted at us in close-up. Certainly not the intent when they launched the off-Broadway show? ** from ****
Review of Extremities
