The 1992 film Basic Instinct is a guilty pleasure of mine. That over-the-top sexual thriller, directed by Paul Verhoeven, starred Michael Douglas as detective Nick Curran and Sharon Stone as writer Catherine Tramell. It was the breakout film for Stone and made her into a superstar, mostly for her smoldering onscreen sexuality and the famous leg-crossing scene, which shocked audiences -- many turned to their theater neighbor to say, "Did I just see Sharon Stone’s . . . ?" Basic Instinct was shameless and exploitive; it was also sexy and fun. Mostly, though, it gave everyday people the pleasure of watching something a little dirty, and to feel as if they were doing something bad as they sat in a darkened theater, munching popcorn and drinking Coke.

Fourteen years later, Stone still looks good for her age, but she’s approaching 50, and hasn’t had a hit as big as Basic Instinct since. Basic Instinct 2 is obviously a last effort to spice up her career before she’s eligible for old-age pension, and for the producers to make a cash grab based on the first film’s appeal. However, other than the title and Stone’s bare assets, there’s little here that resembles the first film.

BI2 begins with Tramell speeding in her car, a drugged-up soccer star in the passenger seat. We are to believe that Tramell is aroused by risk and will push herself to any limit -- we’re told that the only thing that will stop her is death. She manages to have an orgasm at high speed, though the soccer player doesn’t seem all that aware of it. She then drives the car off a bridge and into water, killing her passenger but leaving herself unscathed, with more time on earth in which to terrorize men.

Following the crash, she’s charged with murder. This leads her to her next victim, the repressed Dr. Michael Glass (David Morrissey), Tramell’s court-appointed psychologist. Glass’s wife has left him, and he can’t shake his guilt over a case seven years earlier in which his testimony helped free a man who, soon after, murdered someone. Now he faces a similar dilemma with Tramell -- he senses that she’s a killer who will probably kill again. However, for reasons that exist only in movies, he’s soon smitten, ready to throw morals, career, and better judgment out the window just to sleep with his middle-aged, tarted-up client.

Like the first film, BI2 is full of sex-charged dialogue punctuated with overwrought sex scenes and quite a bit of nudity. Unlike Basic Instinct, this one is unbelievably bland, never sexy or fun, and there’s not a single scene that will shock anyone.

One problem seems to be director Michael Caton-Jones, who lacks Paul Verhoeven’s knack for making trashy material fun (after Basic Instinct, Verhoeven made Showgirls). Then there’s the location: Basic Instinct was set in San Francisco, which helped give it a sultry, sensuous feel; this time, the rainy streets of London make you feel like putting on your clothes, not taking them off. Finally, there’s Sharon Stone, who looks great for her age -- but will a woman who’s close to 50 burn up the screen as she did in her mid-30s? It’s rare that I find myself sitting in a theater and wanting to scream "Act your age!" at a movie, but that’s what I wanted to scream at Basic Instinct 2. Couldn’t it have starred someone playing Tramell’s daughter?

I suspect that, in different hands, a far better sequel to Basic Instinct could have been made. But why bother? The 1992 film is still devilishly good fun, and it’s been so long since most of us have seen it that we could watch it again and it would probably still seem fresh. Do that -- or anything else -- to avoid watching Basic Instinct 2.

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