This follow-up to 1992’s erotic, twisty drama finds the novelist Catherine Tramell on the job in London … that is, writing, screwing and (oh, quite probably) killing. Sharon Stone reprises her role as the naughty, man-eating scribe; this time out, it’s a psychiatrist (David Morrissey) ensnared in her web. Despite an outrageous and wonderfully ridiculous opening scene (hint: driving and masturbation do not mix), director Michael Caton-Jones neglects the obvious camp value of this unnecessary sequel, and plays the weak material seriously. The result: a tedious thriller that doesn’t give the audience much chance to wholeheartedly embrace the fact that our good doctor works in a building shaped like a dildo, or to relish such delicious bad moments as when an impassive, half-naked Stone hacks away in her kitchen with a huge ice pick. Films such as these can survive being badly written and poorly acted, but BI2 can’t shake its worst sin: It’s boring. (AH) 
This article appears in Apr 6-12, 2006.
