The background to this movie is that a police detective had allowed himself to get romantically involved with a suspect, with murderous consequences. This caused the detective to go into a tailspin and become a rowdy troublemaker. As the movie begins, he is taken off active duty after a drunken bar fight and required to report to a police psychiatrist. While cooling his heels in his low-rent apartment, he notices through the uncovered window of an apartment across the street a pretty, meek-seeming woman (Jennifer Rubin) in various seductive poses. He also sees her husband enter the apartment and apparently beat her up. He later meets the woman, who went into business with her husband and does design sketches. The cop is attracted to her, and tries to find out what is going on with the husband and warn him off. The cop begins a relationship with the woman.
As tensions mount, one day the cop sees from his window the husband burst into the couple's apartment waving a gun. The cop runs across the street and shoots the husband. The cop's bland, crude older partner is assigned to the case and starts turning up suspicious facts about the shooting. For example, the partner knows about the cop's confrontation with the husband in the days before the shooting and suspects that the cop is having an affair with the woman. It turns out that the husband's gun was broken and could not fire. And someone using the wife's name bought the gun from a street punk. The cop, now heavily involved with the woman, does his own investigating. Meanwhile, an unpleasant, coarse, trash-talking, leather-jacket-wearing, cigarette-smoking female reporter (Mariel Hemingway) keeps following him around, giving and asking for information about the case and peppering him with heavy sexual innuendo.
Two gift clues (a signed design sketch and an overseen piece of mail, which tie certain characters together) lead to the truth, while the cop himself becomes a target. The conclusion comes in badly explained, trumped-up, drawn-out, exaggerated seduction and confrontation scenes at a sleazy bar and motel. After a shootout, a character simply walks out of the motel, past the arriving police cars, and the credits roll. No attempt is made to give the events meaning.
The plot and characters are paper thin, ill-defined, and uninvolving. The story is predictable and slow-paced. The motive for what happens and the hidden relationship between two of the characters are poorly explained. And, as with everything in the movie, they are layered over with heavy-handed sexual content (which goes so far as to show brief glimpses of Rubin topless and to put Hemingway, clothes on, in a version of a lap dance) in the place of meaningful, entertaining storytelling. The unknown actor playing the cop brings nothing memorable to the role, except his long hair. The best that can be said is there is at least some attempt at a mystery plot, Rubin is demure and pretty playing her ineffectual character, and Hemingway, who annoyingly chews up the scenery in every scene she is in, has a couple of sexy moments.
As tensions mount, one day the cop sees from his window the husband burst into the couple's apartment waving a gun. The cop runs across the street and shoots the husband. The cop's bland, crude older partner is assigned to the case and starts turning up suspicious facts about the shooting. For example, the partner knows about the cop's confrontation with the husband in the days before the shooting and suspects that the cop is having an affair with the woman. It turns out that the husband's gun was broken and could not fire. And someone using the wife's name bought the gun from a street punk. The cop, now heavily involved with the woman, does his own investigating. Meanwhile, an unpleasant, coarse, trash-talking, leather-jacket-wearing, cigarette-smoking female reporter (Mariel Hemingway) keeps following him around, giving and asking for information about the case and peppering him with heavy sexual innuendo.
Two gift clues (a signed design sketch and an overseen piece of mail, which tie certain characters together) lead to the truth, while the cop himself becomes a target. The conclusion comes in badly explained, trumped-up, drawn-out, exaggerated seduction and confrontation scenes at a sleazy bar and motel. After a shootout, a character simply walks out of the motel, past the arriving police cars, and the credits roll. No attempt is made to give the events meaning.
The plot and characters are paper thin, ill-defined, and uninvolving. The story is predictable and slow-paced. The motive for what happens and the hidden relationship between two of the characters are poorly explained. And, as with everything in the movie, they are layered over with heavy-handed sexual content (which goes so far as to show brief glimpses of Rubin topless and to put Hemingway, clothes on, in a version of a lap dance) in the place of meaningful, entertaining storytelling. The unknown actor playing the cop brings nothing memorable to the role, except his long hair. The best that can be said is there is at least some attempt at a mystery plot, Rubin is demure and pretty playing her ineffectual character, and Hemingway, who annoyingly chews up the scenery in every scene she is in, has a couple of sexy moments.