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Extremities
USA 1986
produced by George W. Perkins, Burt Sugarman, Thomas Coleman (executive), Michael Rosenblatt (executive) for Atlantic
directed by Robert M. Young
starring Farrah Fawcett, James Russo, Alfre Woodard, Diana Scarwind, Sandy Martin, Eddie Velez, Tom Everett, Donna Lynn Leavy, Enid Kent, Michael Hennessy, Clare Wren, James Avery
screenplay by William Mastrosimone, based on his play, music by J.A.C. Redford, song by Barry Coffing
review by Dale Pierce
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Incredibly, this grim spectacle started out as a stage play before being
adapted for the screen. Having never been a Farah Fawcett-fan, I have to grit
my teeth and note for once she has to rely on acting rather than tit and ass
in this project, and she comes off surprisingly believable for a change.
Farrah and her friends are stalked by a taunting rapist/killer, who finally
corners her alone in the house. Before he can complete his intended plan to
the full extent, his victim turns the tables on him, sprays shit in his face
to temporarily blind him and then holds him prisoner. Her intention is to
eventually kill him instead, when her friends, also intended victims, come to
the rescue of this son of a bitch and talk her into turning him over to the
law instead. During the course of the action, it becomes hard to distinguish
good from evil, as the target becomes the hunter and gives the tormentor a big
dose of his own medicine. Having known both rape victims and attempted rape
victims, I feel no sorrow for this bastard and whenever I watch the ending, I somehow hope it will have changed and they ice the jerk. Other people will
probably find it more thought-provoking and even debate the plot.
In truth, it wouldn't be a bad idea for a class in psychology to study and
discuss this particular movie, for there are enough perversions, quirks and
twists in human nature to baffle Freud.
Surprisingly, when he breaks down at the end, it is revealed the killer is a
married man with kids and one of those supposed pillars of society by day. In
his confession to his intended victims, he babbles about how his own wife has
no clue about his extra activities and is comforted by her deranged husband
when she expresses fear the murderer may somehow target her. "Naw, he don't want you," the husband/killer responds
with more truth than she realizes ... until well ... she hears the news which will be coming pretty soon
for her.
This film is noteworthy as perhaps the only film where Farrah doesn't run
around with hair in place, that stupid smile throughout and come across as a
poverty program Marilyn Monroe. She looks like hell with black eyes and torn
clothing. She becomes utterly ruthless, right down there on the level of her
would-be murderer and shows a side of her acting ability never shown before or
since.
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