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| Directed by Michael Cristofer; Starring Sean Patrick Flanery, Tara Reid, Jerry O’Connell, Amanda Peet, Ron Livingston, Emily Procter, Brad Rowe, and Sybil Tenchen |
I can hear the hate mail being written right now, but there are some occurrences in which the male side of me can take me into a film. I’m not alone in this, look at Siskel & Ebert through the years, almost always adoring films with sexual content (Bliss, Female Perversions, Wild Things, Kama Sutra, all sex films that were recommended by the pair, despite being hated by most of the mass media). I’ll be first to admit, as I’m sure Roger Ebert would too, that one of the main reasons to watch Wild Things is for that scene near the middle, it’s just the truth. Still my chauvinism does not always change my feelings on a film. I did dislike Radio Inside, Bliss, Paris, France, Kama Sutra, and Wide Sargasso Sea, but of course I did give minor recommendations to Wild Things, Cruel Intentions, and Palmetto (though now that I think about it, I’m not sure that there was any nudity in Palmetto). Body Shots was a film that I looked forward to simply because it looked like Wild Things, but I knew that when it came time to review it, I would have to put all male predisposition behind me. Guess what, any way you put it, I still was not enthralled by the film.
Body Shots is a Rashomon type story about the memories of one night in the lives of six Angelinos. All are rather upper-middle, if not upper class, in their twenties with nice well-liked jobs. I’m a bit forgetful, but I’ll stick to the jobs that I remember. There are four girls, each one seeing themselves as rather attractive woman that enjoy sex. The one that is self loathing is a follower, interestingly the first one to have sex in the film. The four guys are all sure of themselves sexually, especially the one that seems the most unattractive, but lacks nothing in the delusions of grandeur. The night is filled with alcohol and sex, and the films follows each individual as they remember what those two factors did to them. The occurrence that holds most of the film is the supposed raping of the actress (Reid) by the football player (O’Connell), a fight that divides each side of the gender barrier.
The film is overwrought and overstylistic. The Real World type monologues that have been too omnipresent since When Harry Met Sally… took that approach was offsetting, leaving little too be cared about on the part of the individuals. The direction and screenplay (by American History X scribe David McKenna) are less than enthralling, giving moments of wanted tension about as much interesting moments as watching an old lady feed pigeons (see if you can find a better simile). The young cast is rather unable to work, giving novice performances that are rather starchy. Still I did not truly hate the film. It did have some redeeming moments (and I’m not just talking of the sex scenes), but not enough to even get a mixed review. It might have helped had the nudity been a little better…just kidding.
