Running Woman

I decided to rent this only because I figured it would be a mildly-exciting venture into direct-to-video land, which I have ventured to many times and found some real gems.

This wasn't one of them.

Theresa Russell plays Emily Russo, an art expert who is restoring some paintings at a church in LA. On her way home one night with her son Sam, carjackers posing as cops attack them, injuring Emily and killing Sam. Distraught, Emily soon finds that she is being suspected of the act, and who she claims attacked them perhaps never did so at all. From there, she goes on the run and undercover to find the men who attacked her, and to find out the all-important answer to why they did it.

Please, don't think that sounds like a good movie.

There is nothing to commend about this movie. All the characters besides Emily are come and go sort of people who you lose track of too easily. Not to say Emily is a great character. Theresa Russell is, well, annoying. (Is it just me, or does her voice sound like she's got a stuffy nose?) There are definitely unintentional laughs in her undercover scenes, with those wigs and clothes. I think when she was pretending to be Mexican may have been the worst scenes in the movie. She has this long dark red wig on, too much makeup, and this tight green slip dress, and once in a while, she breaks into street lingo and an attempted accent. It's painful. The kid who plays her son was mentally retarded, I think, with this permanent stupid look on his face, mostly seen when Emily imagines her son standing across the street, in the next room, in a doorway, etc. The best part of this "plot" is the reason for all of this. Don't read the next paragraph if you don't want to know. (Ooh, I'd hate to ruin the shocking plot twists of this blockbuster hit!)

Some corporation is trying to get rid of the Mexicans in LA, and a sample Emily took from one painting has something to do with that whole plot, I think there was a chemical in it that was involved. I can't remember, but it was something stupid that connected her carjacking to this painfully bad hidden "shock."

Okay, it's safe to read on, but all I really have left to say is that this movie is terrible, from beginning to end, and you won't be missing much if you just keep walking when you see it at the video store. I only wish I did that, but since I didn't, learn from my mistake and move on. You could do so much better....

I rented this movie just on the brink of a Lorazepam binge. That narcotic -- which was prescribed during a now thankfully concluded period of high-strung neurosis, but to which I occasionally return if the need arises -- has caused me to make strange and poorly-advised choices, but this selection, whether drug-induced or not, ranks among my most inspired. I saw the movie first in a near-catatonic haze, tired from the aforementioned L. and several nights of wakeful sleep. As things turned out, I was unable to leave the house for nearly a week thereafter, and because my entertainment choices were severely limited, I ended up viewing this film nearly six times over that housebound period. Each time was more exquisite than the last.

I have long been alternately bored and mildly amused by Corman-related projects, not averse to the occasional gore-and-bobbling-cleavage romp, but this film had a spark that I have never (and have never since) seen in one of that ilk. The best metaphor I can think of is tapestry -- one that seems unextraordinary at first, but when viewed at greater levels of detail reveals more. The boat-related scenes provide the best example. One might reasonably consider them mindless tripe at first glance, but as I watched the marine chase scenes over and over again, I was reminded of an intricately planned choreography, an angry and wild and violent dance, hovering just this side of rapacious ecstacy.

I'm also convinced that the plot itself is a subtle and compelling meditiation on the nascent police state that one finds in major modern metropolises. At night, I hear police helicopters and think of so many vehicle-intensive moments in Running Woman that have since insinuated themselves into my dreams and think, my god -- is this America?

Then there's Theresa Russell. Her throaty, aging sex-kitten persona has obviously bored American audiences, but I found this performance to be a sultry, sexy, salacious delight. Easily her best work since Whore.

I understand entirely the opinion of viewers who might dismiss this film as merely another boat-related action flick that hardly merits a disdainful glance on the Blockbuster rack. But to those who are interested in the movie within the movie, and the movie within that movie, and who can take the time to give this film the attention it so richly deserves, I highly recommend a closer look at what is one of the gems in Rachel Samuels' commendable oeuvre, The Running Woman.