Indecent Proposal (1993)

USA, 117 minutes

Director: Adrian Lyne

Writers: Jack Engelhard, Amy Holden Jones

Photography: Howard Atherton

Music: John Barry

Editor: Joe Hutshing

Cast: Robert Redford, Demi Moore, Woody Harrelson, Seymour Cassel, Oliver Platt, Billy Bob Thornton, Rip Taylor, Billy Connolly, Sheena Easton, Herbie Hancock

About the time Indecent Proposal was released I belonged to the Quality Paperback Book Club, which you may recall retailed by mail a lot of nice trade editions of interesting novels and other fare, in the familiar monthly subscription format. One of the more interesting books I acquired there came in a size actually smaller than mass market, suitable for toting around for social occasions. The Book of Questions by Gregory Stock is full of open-ended questions intended to provoke discussion. For example: Would you rather die peacefully among friends at age 50, or painfully and alone at age 80? Assume that most of the last 30 years would be good ones. Or: Would you give up half of what you now own for a pill that would permanently change you so that one hour of sleep each day would fully refresh you?

The premise of Indecent Proposal is essentially that type of thought experiment. Would you give up your wife for one night to a billionaire in exchange for $1 million? “One million dollars” now immediately brings to mind Dr. Evil in Austin Powers with his little finger poking at the corner of his mouth. But never mind, $1 million still looks like a lot of money to me even today. That is the motivating plot device here. By 1993, it wasn’t just the decision of the husband anymore (in this case, Woody Harrelson as David Murphy). Marriage is a partnership and the wife has a say in it too (in this case, Demi Moore as Diana Murphy). Inevitably, unfortunately, the picture turns into a lot of rancid preening masculinity. This was Harrelson in approximately his promising phase, fresh off Cheers. And with Adrian Lyne directing, it’s just as inevitably full of a lot of sexy agony as well. These three—with Robert Redford, the billionaire—are almost too beautiful for these problems, which their beauty has itself wrought. Artificial, pumped-up beauty runs to all horizons here.

Jacob’s Ladder (1990)

My Halliwell’s Film Guide is quite firm on this picture. “Exceedingly silly on every level,” it notes, “particularly in its supernatural dabblings.” Zero stars. For good measure, it tacks on a blurb from Variety: “Dull, unimaginative and pretentious.” Well, I admit the word “pretentious” did occur to me the first time I saw this, when it was new. I was dragged there by a friend who had already seen it and was nutty about it. I wish I could remember what he said he saw in it. At the time it was not hard to give it up for Adrian Lyne’s ‘80s version of sexy stylish direction, which he had already established with Flashdance, 9½ Weeks, and Fatal Attraction. It also has puzzle-box movie elements, particularly in the way it ends, which is more confusing than surprising, but you still may not be able to expect it. Jacob’s Ladder is a mashup of deranged Vietnam vet movie and paranoid antigovernment thriller with several kitchen sinks strewn in for texture and stuff. It’s exciting and well edited, with some good car chases and explosions—fetishizing cars this way already feels like a dated relic of the 20th century. But at the same time I’m boomer enough to get a kick out it (which reminds me, I need to check out The French Connection again). Friendly golden retriever guy Tim Robbins, then in his imperial phase and doing movies a mile a minute, has the lead here and galumphs along as an empty movie star shell, the way he does. Among other things the movie is a certain experiment in how far charisma can take you—YMMV. He is yuppie Vietnam vet Jacob, who has been having flashbacks or delusions lately, or, yes, there are vague hints of demons and such. More explicitly Jacob and his band of brothers, rounded up for the occasion, try to recall the details of a fierce firefight they were involved in in the war. They can’t seem to remember it very well and ultimately they come to believe they must have been being experimented on by the government. Bingo!—apparently. The case never goes to trial, not least because it is outlandish and they have only their own flashbacks as evidence. The obviously low-rent shyster lawyer they turn to is played by Jason Alexander, who is not bad but also unshakably George Costanza. Poor guy. Ruined his career with a brilliant turn in a sitcom. May the residuals carry him forever. As for Jacob’s Ladder, I don’t know. It’s cheesy entertainment, worth it if you can find it free and feel like zoning out for a couple of hours. Some good action stuff in here.