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Mercy
Whatever happened to the plain ol' garden variety pervert? The pimply pervo who'd duct tape bicycle mirrors to his Buster Browns to sneak a panty peep. Now days, we've got people INVENTING new sexual perversions, er, fetishes. It's confusing. At what point does one say to their partner, "You know, this isn't cutting it anymore, I really need you to slam my nipples in a car door while reciting Culture Club lyrics." Y'all giggle, but it's HAPPENING. Maybe I'm overreacting because I just watched this sleazy flick called Mercy (1999, 117 minutes). It's sorta like Silence of the Lambs, but with a heaping helping of lesbian chic.
The movie: Someone is strapping gals to beds and pretty much BITING them to death, only it seems the victims might have actually been into it -- well, up until the point they met Jesus. Trying to root out the bad guy is the ever-frowning Ellen Barkin as Catherine Palmer, the ever-frowning homicide detective, who also likes it rough. Mixed in, is TV's "La Femme Nikita" (the tasty Peta Wilson) picking up chicks in department store changing rooms. But that's only when she isn't squeezing into a latex leotard and dancing half nekkid in a hotel window. Wait, there's more. While she's slapping her talents against the glass, her horn-dog sugar daddy is across the street ogling her through the scope of his sniper rifle. How THAT turns out has to be seen to be believed. And to make the plot even more convoluted, there's this Englishster psychiatrist (Julian Sands) who diddles his female patients, but only after they tell him DISGUSTING stories about how their daddies got handsy with them during Marco Polo games in the family swimming pool. Palmer can't decide whether to sleep with La Femme Nikita or arrest her. The boys back at the precinct keep talking about FBI profiles and how serial killers are never chicks. Meanwhile bodies keep turning up looking like one of my dachshund's chew toys. Palmer works it all out, of course. If you check it out, you'll think novelist David L. Lindsey and director Damian Harris lurked in adult book stores and put every fetish they found into the movie -- then that wasn't enough so they started making up stuff. It's just that weird. CineSchlockers will be interested to know that Peta and Damian have shacked up together, and that he's the son of the great Richard Harris, party animal extraordinaire.
Notables: 12 breasts. Six corpses. Buttocks slapping. Eye lids roll. Lesbian cocktail party. Gratuitous dream sequences. Gratuitous crime scene photography. Biting. Razor blade foreplay. Dog attack. Lesbian tongue rasslin. One gun battle, with foot chase. Gratuitous Baldwin brother. Cross-dressing. Incest. Mucho psycho-babble. S&M scenes. Sniper attack.
Quotables: Vickie Kittrie is a girl that knows how to improvise, "You'd be amazed at the use we can get out of simple kitchen utensils."
Time codes: Ellen Barkin's "Old Lady" monologue (13:55). Peta Wilson takes a knee (58:50).
Audio/Video: Both fullframe and anamorphic widescreen (2.35:1) prints on the same disc. And, likely, without vertical cropping, a few extra naughty bits may be visible via the fullframe option. Solid Dolby Digital 2.0 soundtrack.
Extras: This unrated "Extended International Version" clocks about 20 minutes longer than its 94 minute, R-rated theatrical release. The movie's trailer, plus one for Brian De Palma's Body Double. Cast bios.
Final thought: True sleaze. Nikita nekkid. What else need be said? Recommended.
for additional reviews and bonus features.
G. Noel Gross is a Dallas graphic designer and avowed Drive-In Mutant who specializes in scribbling B-movie reviews. Noel is inspired by Joe Bob Briggs and his gospel of blood, breasts and beasts.
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