Vendetta fatale

Shannon Tweed does an excellent job of performing as a lonely housewife who blames Andrew Stevens for her husband's suicide. She then manipulates her way into the family and starts seducing them. First the son, then husband, and then the wife. This will go down as a classic soft core erotic thriller.

It's quite a brilliant fetch to have Shannon Tweed play a villain, because seeing her use her looks for evil and not for good/neutral is actually pretty hot. Come to think about, she wouldn't have been a bad pick for "Basic Instinct" either. This could be the nudity talking, but she's able to look and act way more evil than Sharon Stone ever could. The plot for what it's worth: after a guy can't get promotion despite lending his wife to the right people, he like, totally kills himself. His wife, understandably, demands vengeance and wants to kill the total jerk who did get the promotion, Alex Weston. Only her idea of vengeance is having wild sex with everybody around him. That'll teach 'em. The audience is given what it wants: ye olde soft core classics (pool table anyone?), but also teenage boy's phantasies brought to life, a lesbian scene, and a fair share of shower scenes. The writing actually proves to be good, even if by accident. For instance, the maid interrupts what could have easily become another steamy sex scene, and you just want her to like, not be there. Then she gets killed. Again, they know what the audience wants. Could you believe it,a soft core movie with a plot that actually kinda makes sense. The ending was both fairly surprising and I should mention hot. If you're ever going to watch soft core accept no substitute.

I would think that it's a monumentally bad idea to hire a tutor that looks like Shannon Tweed for your high school boy. It's obvious what happens after that.

The movie isn't so high quality, but Shannon Tweed looks very good in this film. She's out for revenge on the man and his family thats lied to and made her husband commit suicide.

As mentioned earlier, the production of this movie is mediocre, but acting of Andrew Stevens is good, and so is Shannon Tweed's. Michael D Arenz puts in a good show as well.

It's a bit exploitative film, but is a guilty entertainment as well, and is worth a watch.

This film made me laugh, and it made me cry. But the only reason I cried was because I cried laughing at it. There doesn't seem to be much of a story-line; the evil Amanda (or "the blonde one" as she shall from now on be referred to) decides to bump off an annoyingly perfect all-American family - and good luck to her I say!

The soundtrack looms overpoweringly over most of the film, drowning out a lot of the dialogue, which is probably a good thing. The movie adheres to all of the basic rules ie the heroine must investigate every strange noise in the house with no lights on, wearing her most revealing underwear.

As a suspense film, this sucks. As a comedy, it's actually quite good. The way the blonde one keeps popping up all over the place, creeping out of the shadows just to proffer cups of tea is nothing short of hilarious.

It's definitely one to watch. You'll have the time of your life just making fun of it!

"Yes, I am afraid of you. Afraid of looking at you too long. Afraid of standing too close to you. Afraid that right now I could justify almost anything," says Alex Weston, the young yuppie patriarch of the film, making the pivotal point just before he sinks his 8 ball in Amanda's rear pocket. Although he doesn't understand it yet, his Gleem-clean, Tide-sparkling, perfectly dysfunctional American family is being methodically diced like a finger caught in a Cuisineart. The horror is in its ease. Trained by ruthless advertisers selling consumerism, the Westons are so part of the circus they don't even see the greasepaint. Amanda does them a favor, really. By bringing things to a quick boil, she diverts them from the slow burn.

Sure, this film's derivative of "Hand That Rocks The Cradle". And it's a bad copy. But that's just why it's so good. In mainstream films with solid, well-acted characterization, you spend your time in motivation and visually-drawn psychology. In "Scorned", the characters are mere sticks moved by the plot, and their symbolic import becomes quickly apparant. Tweed's such a drool, you can't take your eyes off her. And that's just the point. You chide the Weston's fixation for the proverbial carrot and call it, snobbishly, a shallow root, yet you're waiting to see what Amanda's gonna wear--or not wear--in the next scene. Figure it out, Doctor. Feels like Gotchaitis to me.