Tracce di rosso

My review was written in October 1992 after watching the movie at the Gramercy theater in Manhattan.

Unintentional laughs and goofy plot twists make "Traces of Red", a dramatic failure but an entertaining exercise in camp. In the currently hot erotic thriller genre, it should be a strong video title, but is miscast as far as the theatrical marketplace is concerned.

James Belushi brings his usual man of the people persona to a role that should have been a bit more uppercrust: a cop in Palm Beach, Florida, whose brother (William Russ) is running for Senate. Belushi is assigned to a murder case, and before long all of the principal characters (himself and brother included) are key suspects in the serial slayings of prostitutes and B girls.

With a nod to genre films like "Body Heat", "Traces of Red" initially holds one's interest in a whodunit mode. Unfortunately, scripter Jim Piddock threw out all concern for character consistency in his desire to keep the pot boiling, so the film becomes terminally silly.

Originally titled "Beyond Suspicion", pic includes so many traces of red herrings in its attempt to make every Palm Beach denizen as suspect, one fears that Ted Kennedy will eventually be dragged in as the killer. In particular, Lorraine Bracco, playing her femme fatale as a wannabe Melanie Griffith (right down to the voice), does many things for no reasons other than to make the audience wonder about her.

A skeleton in the family closet proves to be key to unravelling a mystery that includes one satisfying, though phony, twist at the very end. To throw film buffs off the track, Belushi narrates the film as a corpse, a successfully misleading homage to BIlly Wilder's "Sunset Blvd." format.

Belushi has the edge to create a film noir antihero but hardly the sex appeal to follow in Michael Dougas' or William Hurt's genre footsteps. As is sidekick and advisor, Tony Goldwyn suffer from the lack of script logic, Tech credits are okay but on the cheap side, missing the shadow play and lighting stylization a true film noir requires.

Overheated but good-looking and fairly entertaining murder mystery that will probably please most whodunit fans, despite (or, for some viewers, perhaps BECAUSE of) its overly convoluted plot, which may even demand a second viewing to get completely straightened out in one's head. James Belushi gets to show some ambiguity that's rare for him, but Lorraine Bracco's femme fatale is a barely sexy disappointment. (**)

If so, you'll like "Traces of Red", a murder mystery in which Belushi plays a cop hot on the trail of a serial killer in Palm Beach, FL. Though the flick misses the sweaty Florida noir atmospherics of "Palmetto" and "Gold Coast" and dishes up a convoluted, not-to-be-taken-seriously plot, it does feature the same old likeable tough guy Belushi in his slimmer days. Good stuff for Belushi fans. Marginal, mediocre escapist stuff for everyone else. (C)

"Traces Of Red" has a striking opening sequence, and a well-done double-twist at the end; the rest of the movie, though, is flat - almost like a TV movie (especially when compared to, say, the same year's "Basic Instinct", which I saw again yesterday - the gap between the two films is enormous). The biggest liability is Lorraine Bracco's vacuous, unconvincing femme fatale; James Belushi is equally miscast as the town stud, though he has some good moments near the end. The best things about the movie are the lush, jazzy music score, and some nice panoramic views of Palm Beach. ** out of 4.

A homicide detective in Palm Springs tracks down a serial killer whose victims are all somewhat linked to him.

Crushingly boring, inextricably muddled and casually performed attempt at film noir, in which the killed victim tells the story, a la "Sunset Boulevard". The characters are so dull and dislikable, that by the time the final tricky twist comes on display you scarcely care.