(You like to watch - don't you? Hello? Anyone there?)
DIRECTOR: Phillip Noyce.
CAST: Sharon Stone, William Baldwin, Tom Berenger, Polly Walker, Martin Landau, Colleen Camp, CCH Pounder, Keene Curtis, Amanda Foreman, Nicholas Pryor.
WARNING: SPOILERS and Billy Baldwin's quivering buttocks up ahead...
Oh, SLIVER, SLIVER, SLIVER... What a missed opportunity. All the ingredients were there for a gripping and suspenseful thriller with just the right hint of twisted darkness: a good cast, an eerie setting, an atmospheric score, and an undeniably compelling hook - a secret "someone" is watching the activities of the tenants of a sleek Manhattan highrise. Oh, and the building has been plagued by a series of "accidents" - tenants meeting their untimely demises in a variety of gross ways that the police keep writing off as benign. Could the unseen voyeur have something to do with these deaths? Does tequila fuck you up?
SLIVER gets off to a strong start. We open to the haunting strains of Enigma, caterwauling into the night as we see video footage of the building's exterior. We follow someone we intially think is our heroine Sharon, but actually turns out to be just a very good lookalike, as she enters her flat. Cut to a few minutes later when a hooded figure slips into her apartment and approaches her out on the balcony. She turns, smiles at the figure, indicating that it's apparently normal for someone looking like a killer to sneak up on her. This is the first sign (aside from the poster and marketing campaign) that we are dealing with a kinky thriller. Anyway, they embrace - and he promptly hurls her off the balcony. She screams all the way down - understandably pissed off that she wasn't informed about this particular move in advance by her mysterious playmate. Long story short, Ms. Sharon Stone-lookalike ends up being Ms. Pavement Splatter-lookalike.
Cut to the real Sharon Stone, playing vulnerable book editor Carly Norris, as she arrives at the building the next day for an appointment with the building manager. She likes what she sees, and says she'll take the apartment. Before the morning is even up, Carly gets word that her application has been approved. Now, I would expect that kind of quick turnaround from a building desperate for tenants, the kind with crack dealers and hookers knocking on the windows and landlords with missing teeth and body odor. But not from a luxury highrise in Manhattan, so clearly something is off. If Carly is concerned, she doesn't show it and jumps all over that offer. After all, did you see that view?
Carly moves in and goes through the same hellish crap that every new tenant goes through: unpacking boxes, getting hit on by the other tenants, and trying to find a fucking grocery store that won't break the bank. Oh, and then there's the added kicker of the unseen voyeur watching her now, as well. The first scene cluing us in to this fact is when Carly decides to, um, get to know herself in the "strange tub" in her bathroom. As guitar music plays in the background, the voyeur (and we) watch as Carly lathers herself to a foamy climax. She was having such a grand old time, I was starting to wonder what kind of bath gel she was using. Pass that shit around.
The first act ends with Carly slowly becoming aware of the building's history, as well as the fact that her lookalike from the opening scene used to live in Carly's apartment. Coincidence? Only if you also believe Milli Vanilli really sang their own songs. Carly begins to investigate and digs up articles at the local libary covering the accidents in the building. So far until this point, SLIVER has done everything right: 1) set up a likable and sympathetic heroine 2) put her in a new environment that slowly becomes threatening, and 3) have her try to unravel what is happening.
Unfortunately, it's right after the start of the second act that SLIVER starts to wander. You see, it's at this point that writer Joe Eszterhas (adapting from Ira Levin's novel) decides to turn this into BASIC INSTINCT 2. The next, oh, sixty minutes or so deals with Carly getting the living daylights fucked out of her by stud-puppy Zeke (Billy Baldwin), and wondering if he's the killer who has been tossing Sharon Stone-lookalikes off their balconies. So much time is devoted to the sex games and the cat and mouse between Carly and Zeke, that the mysery element is abandoned. Add to this mix Tom Berenger, as the impotent and blocked mystery writer Jack Landsford, trying to cock-block Zeke at every turn, and you basically have a dysfunctional triangle shoving the central mystery into the wings. To be fair, the tension still mounts during the middle part of SLIVER, mainly because we have come to sympathize with Carly and don't want her to fall prey to the killer. At this point, the film still had the chance to redeem itself by moving into a dynamic third act.
It almost does. There is a moment in SLIVER when it looks like it will be about more than just Sharon Stone's tits or Billy Baldwin's quivering buttocks. I'm referring to the entire block of screen time where Carly finally discovers that Zeke is the secret voyeur - and finds herself drawn into the "watching" web. Later, when Carly runs into two of the tenants that she and her boy-toy have been spying on, the film takes on an added layer of intrigue and meaning. The tension that comes from Carly knowing the tenants' dirty secrets - but unable to do anything to help - gives SLIVER some weight that it should have gained much earlier. It flirts with truly addressing the notion that we are all voyeurs - in one way or another.
Alas, just when it looks like the movie is going to take a course correction and finish strongly, it veers the opposite way, trying to ape BASIC INSTINCT'S climax. As many people know, SLIVER's original ending was roundly panned by test audiences, forcing the producers to gather the cast up again to film two new ones, one of which made it into the final theatrical cut. To be fair, the ending used here is atypical and unusual for a thriller in that: 1) The leading man is not the killer but, (2) he still doesn't get the girl and, 3) it solves the mystery almost as an afterthought. Unfortunately, it's also unsatisfying and abrupt. And the worst thing a thriller can do is send the audience back into the world asking themselves "Who?! Wha-- Huh?!"
I won't spoil the new ending, but suffice to say that I'm wondering how bad the original ending could have been if it was replaced by what I just saw. Supposedly, it had something to do with Carly crossing over to the dark side and running off with the murderer. The theatrical ending keeps her on the right side of the law, but it also keeps the audience from enjoying the film. A darker ending like what they originally envisioned might have actually been better for and in keeping with such a kinky thriller.
BUT SERIOUSLY: Bottom line - SLIVER had the potential to be a classic thriller, a modern version of REAR WINDOW. But in trying to cash in on the success of BASIC INSTINCT the year before, the folks behind the camera lost sight of what made SLIVER the novel work so well - suspense and a tight mystery plot. Instead we get lots and lots of skin, which is not bad at all, but every second wasted on saucy flirtation is time taken away from satisfactorily exploring the mystery angle of the plot. Sharon Stone gives an underrated performance as Carly that is subtle and touching. William Baldwin is okay. I actually liked Tom Berenger as Jack, and he certainly seemed to have more chemistry with Sharon Stone. Unfortunately, his character is more of a plot device.
Verdict - SLIVER is nowhere near as bad as reported, but it is nowhere near as good as it could have been. The atmospheric visuals and mood, the hints of something deeper, and Sharon Stone's good central performance, keep things from falling apart completely. All in all, a very interesting and frustrating misfire.
