Body of Evidence (1993), directed by Uli Edel; starring Madonna, Willem Dafoe, Julianne Moore, Frank Langella, and Joe Mantegna.
Uli Edel’s Body of Evidence is a terrible film. This film blows more chunks than a pack of sorority girls at a syrup of ipecac kegger. The premise is ludicrous, the script is insane, the acting by the two leads (Madonna and Willem Dafoe) is instant camp. It’s one of the worst big-budget films ever made, and I love it.
There’s no way to describe it except as an old-fashioned “star vehicle.” Ostensibly it’s a courtroom thriller, but it’s really just about Madonna and her closet. In this way, it greatly resembles another famous star vehicle, the 1976 remake of A Star is Born, which was about Barbra Streisand and her closet.
Conceived as Madonna's answer to Basic Instinct (1992), which made Sharon Stone a superstar, Body of Evidence stars Madonna as a femme fatale named Rebecca Carlson, who owns an art gallery in Portland, Oregon. One problem right off is that while Madonna looks good in this film, she's not a legitimate classical beauty like Stone. Which she probably knows, deep down; just take note of how many times the script describes Rebecca/Madonna as "breath-takingly beautiful."
Rebecca's art gallery is just a front, however; her real job is boinking rich old men so vigorously that they die. When she boinks her latest victim to death, she stands to inherit his fortune of $8 million.
Joe Mantegna, playing the district attorney, decides that Rebecca should be prosecuted for homicidal boinking. He plays it straight all the way through, as if he’s completely unaware that homicidal boinking is not really a crime. Rebecca then hires a straight-laced Catholic defense attorney named Frank (Dafoe) to defend her, and she introduces him to her special brand of homicidal boinking, too. He manages to survive, though.
I warned you that the premise is ludicrous.
Despite these obvious flaws, Body of Evidence is that rare cinematic treat—the terrible trashy film that is actually entertaining. And it has a lot of fans who know it sucks, but don’t care. The lure of trash can pull in all of us at some point in our lives.
This film may be trash, but it's high class trash. The pacing and shot design by directer Edel is pretty good. The moody, watery cinematography is great, provided by the same man who shot Full Metal Jacket (1987) for Kubrick. The atmospheric score is by Graeme Revell, who also did the score for the celebrated neo-Gothic The Crow (1994). The wardrobe for Madonna by Susan Becker is outstanding. And the acting by supporting actors like Mantegna, Frank Langella, Julianne Moore, and Anne Archer is excellent; it’s just Dafoe and Madonna who suck. Plus, the script, which includes howlers like, "Her body is a weapon no different than any other."
Body of Evidence reminds me of an essay written once by Nora Ephron, the social critic turned screenwriter, about Jacqueline Susann. For those not old enough to remember her, Susann penned lengthy potboilers about rich people and celebrities in the 60s and early 70s, each of which sold a gazillion copies. Her Valley of the Dolls, about drug-addicted Hollywood celebs, is one of the best-selling novels of all time.
Ephron’s essay described Susann’s work as “a rhinestone in a garbage pile.” That's kind of a good way to describe Body of Evidence, also.
At the end of Body of Evidence, Rebecca is cleared of the murder charge, thanks to Frank. But she double-crosses him and doesn't end up so well, after all. I'd really like to know what happened to her wardrobe.
