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Well, Raquel Welch is Raquel Welch, she's not Joanne Woodward or Julietta Masina or Jennifer Jason Leigh. She is beautiful, sexy, cute. That's about it. She may be a great actress, but no film, script, role has been found yet, according to her hidden talent. Here, she's simply embarrassing. As are all the other actors. Very stupid script, super embarrassing acting.

Luke Askew shoots his ex-wife, Las Vegas pony Kay Peters, and takes a shot at her fellow showgirls, including Raquel Welch. Miss Welch flees to Los Angeles, but Askew pursues. Will Miss Welch survive to find life and love with James Stacy, or will the crazy guy kill her?

It's a cheap feature, distinguished from a TV movie only by the topless dancers -- although Miss Welch is not one of them. Her specialty has her wearing clothes, and she spends the rest of the film in a tight top, schoolgirl-length skirt and white knee socks. The dialogue is blah, the cast is thoroughly undistinguished, save for Gordon Jump, and the highlights are the topless dancers and the scene in which Miss Welch sets her pursuer on fire. It's exploitation all the way from producer Leon Fromkess, whom you may remember as Executive In Charge Of Production for PRC.

Alan Morris guns down his estranged wife in cold-blood, and blames her friends namely Vegas showgirl Michele for turning his wife against him. She was there when it happened and he goes after her. This leads her to flee Vegas and make her way to Los Angeles, but Alan tracks her down. Late 60s flabby psychedelic psycho stalker on-the-run thriller that's thick on melodramatics but lacks tension despite moments of searing cat- and-mouse action and neon noir shades. However it remains hypnotic due to the wonderful presence of Raquel Welch and vivid Las Vegas and Los Angeles backdrops beautifully projected by agile camera-work. Sometimes the locations are much more of a character on screen then its leaden stars. Even though it's seedy in context and the nightlife shows, it's probably a touch too polished in presenting it, but its acts of violence have a touch of brutality. Pacing is somewhat a problem, as it seems to get lost in the neon lights, glitter and dance numbers. But the romance angle simply lulls between Welch and Stacy's characters and the script awkwardly goes about it. This just makes the film drag, until it reaches the fiery conclusion (now I know what the title means) between Welch and the steely Luke Askew. It's hearty in execution and well-made by director James Neilson, but generically crafted and less than exciting.

"What's a girl gotta do to get a job around here"?

If you love camp as much as I do, then you will love "Flareup". From the opening credits we know it's a camp fest by the gyrating "go-go" dancer doing the boogaloo around the credits. Opening scene at the Riviera Hotel in Las Vegas is great, with Raquel and two friends having lunch "al fresco". The hairstyle on the one friend looks as though it needs a building permit. She immediately gets shot by her ex-boyfriend (maybe he thought the hair-do was a little too much as well). He then turns on Raquel (whom he blames for the breakup) and spends the rest of the movie trying to kill her. If you love location shooting then dig all the groovy shots of Las Vegas and Los Angeles before they made both towns into an overbuilt, gaudy mecca that both cities are today. What sends this movie over the top is when Raquel mounts a horse and practically dislocates her head from the throwing back and forth of her mane of hair. AND THIS WAS BEFORE PROZAC! I loved every second of this movie, it has more entertainment value than anything I've seen in the past 10 years.

Las Vegas dancer Raquel Welch is stalked by the crazed ex-husband of her best friend (who blames Rocky for breaking up his marriage). After a violent opening, film turns to more routine melodrama, as Welch runs from place to place, eventually hiding out at the Old Zoo in L.A.'s Griffith Park! Some nifty location work, lots of costume changes for our star, good supporting work from the underrated James Stacy. Yet, the film is too clean, too slick to be convincing--especially as it deals with seedy nightclubs and topless dancers. Much was made in the presskit of Raquel's dance routine, but it's laughable instead of memorable. Welch is rather over-the-top here; she really flourishes under a looser direction, and Disney-vet James Neilsen is just too mechanical for her. **1/2 from ****