Dir: Joseph Brutsman
Star: Michael Des Barres, Rosanna Arquette, Nastassja Kinski, Eva Jenícková
Beyond one of the most click-baity titles in cinematic history, lurks something slightly more than the soft-porn bonkathon which it would appear to be, and is instead trying to offer a psychological portrait of the titular character. This is the not-exactly subtly named Sammy Horn (Des Barres), a restaurant owner bearing some resemblance to a certain celebrity chef whose name might rhyme with Bordon Hamsay, sharing similar hair and a quick temper. Project Kinski legal advisers counsel me to stress that is all they have in common.
Horn has a lovely wife, Grace (Arquette), and a charming young child, but this does not stop in the slightest from trying to bed every woman to cross his path. That list includes workers in his restaurant, women he meets in bars, his doctor’s receptionist, hookers he hires, strip-club bartenders, even Grace’s sister is fair game for Sammy’s lust. This all causes no end of problems: he gets arrested after a particularly vocal sex session in the bathroom of a restaurant, and has a scary moment when his doctor tells him Grace is HIV-positive. The lies and deceit he’s forced into with his wife don’t help, and in the end he realizes he has a problem and seeks help.
That comes in the form of therapist Dr. Jane Bordeaux (Kinski), to whom he details his recent exploits, as she listens and frowns – I guess she’s trying to establish a motive and figure out how Horn can control his urges. While I didn’t notice at the time, it strikes me as not exactly much of a stretch to find a parallel between Sammy and Nastassja’s father, Klaus, whose fleshly appetites were the stuff of legend (at least, in his self-penned memories – who can say how close these came to the reality?). Perhaps playing a therapist was a coping mechanism of some kind for the daughter? Hey, it’s not much more dubious than the psychology this has to offer, and would at least explain Kinski’s presence. Now, if only we could find a similar excuse for Arquette…
It is, certainly, a title likely to mislead, especially since the two lead actresses remain more or less completely attached to their clothes. There’s no shortage of sex, to be sure, but it’s not by anyone of whom you’ll ever have heard. It’s also a bit of a time-capsule, offering a glimpse of an era when aggressive sexual behavior was rather more acceptable. From a 2016 viewpoint, Horn comes over as predatory, at the very least – arguably even, to borrow a quote from Cersei Lannister, “a bit of a rapist”, since gaining consent hardly seems to be on his to-do list before grabbing on to his next target. You could also make the case he abuses his power, such as with a sous chef at his restaurant. But Horn is not actually an unsympathetic character, and Des Barres’s portrayal gives a bit more depth to him than you’d expected.
There is an odd subplot, which seems to be trying to enhance the positive side. Horn is taking his family to the movies, and gets in an altercation with the ticket-taker, that ends with the latter being fired. The now-unemployed man starts stalking Horn, with bad intentions, but a confrontation in an alley behind the restaurant ends in Horn offering his assailant a job – albeit with a warning to keep his temper in check. I was expecting something more to follow, yet nothing ever comes of this thereafter. It’s oddly affecting, perhaps a result of it being one of the few scenes where Horn is actually communicating with another human being, rather than trying to get into their pants.
Even the sequences between him and Dr. Bordeaux don’t possess much in the way of apparent honesty: as therapists go, she doesn’t seem particularly interested in locating the cause of his addiction, or offering any kind of significant treatment. Well, unless “staring disapprovingly” is what passes for mental health care these days. It’s certainly an easy enough role for Kinski, who only appears in a single location (her office) and likely dashed off her entire performance in less than a week. To be honest, it’s more of a backdrop to allow for the film’s main purpose, which appears to be wish fulfillment for middle-aged men: Horn is not exactly a hunk, yet still appears to be capable of getting any woman (save Dr. Bordeaux) onto his genitals, in the time it takes the rest of us to boil an egg.
What’s a little odd though, is the relatively restrained nature of the sex scenes, which, if enthusiastic (to the point where I felt compelled to lower the volume!), contain a much higher amount of clothing then I was expecting. It’s still certainly not a family film, but if you are expecting the soft-core bonkathon mentioned earlier, you’re going to end up disappointed, even if every woman in it, is more or less uniformly attractive. As such, it seems almost to possess a split personality: partly wanting to be a serious drama about addiction, yet clothed in the trappings of a late-night cable television movie. Probably inevitably, it manages to fall short on both fronts.
That all said, I didn’t hate this as much as many reviews I’ve read. It would be easy for a film on the topic to take a hypocritical approach, both condemning the protagonist’s behavior, while salaciously exploiting it, yet that doesn’t seem to happen here. For all the storyline flaws, Des Barres’s portrayal of Horn is a surprisingly effective one. He’s a bundle of contradictory feelings, behavior and traits – if not consistent, by any stretch, it may well be a more accurate portrayal of most people’s frailties and failings than many Hollywood creations.