Too many fans seem to be blown away

Strictly average movie

The tone of this movie is interesting -- the stakes are both dramatic and high, but it's balanced with a lot of fun, tongue and cheek dialogue.

Strong acting helps the film overcome an uncertain premise and create characters that hold our attention absolutely.

Brian De Palma has often come in for some flak over the years, his penchant for sticking tight to Alfred Hitchcock thriller formula has been the source of much consternation in certain quarters. Yet when you view something like Peter Hall's Never Talk to Strangers it rams home just how welcome it is to have Hitch like thrillers at least done well!Rebecca De Mornay is a troubled shrink who whilst dealing with the mind games of a serial killing loony (Harry Dean Stanton), meets sexually charged Latino guy (Antonio Banderas) and indulges in passions unbound. Then she starts to get very unwelcome presents in the post...The erotic thriller has been well trodden, and will continue to be so for sure, so it feels a little churlish to decry Hall's movie for coming off as a weak willed imitator of previous purveyors of the sub-genre, but this blend of Silence of the Lambs meets Sea of Love - cum - Dressed to Kill - cum Fatal Attraction etc etc just comes across as a cheat. And that's because it is!The makers know this and try to hide their ridiculous folly behind eroticism as the two lovely looking headlining stars get sweaty and wet, indulging in sexual play that's as powerful as the surroundings (Banderas lives in a loft apartment resplendent with metal cage and wrought iron doors). But, or should that be butt? The mystery element is weak, the suspense equally so, while the back story of De Mornay's father (a key character) is hopelessly under developed.Then there is H.D. Stanton, stealing every scene is he is in, quid pro quo indeed, yet he's hardly in the film, which ultimately proves to be a tragedy as the plot hurtles towards its implausible and risible revelations. Red herrings come and go as quickly as Becca and Tony's underwear (the continuity editor should have been sacked along with the writers because of one scene BTW), and even though Pino Donaggio scores the music with customary swirling qualities, this just comes off as a piggyback tactic...This is a poor thriller in spite of two very committed and visually attractive perfs from the leads - and of course Stanton's knowingly sleazy turn. Seek this out only if you think Body of Evidence is in the upper echelons of erotic thrillers. 5/10

This film is surprisingly not horrible. A product of the mid-1990s Rebecca De Mornay boomlet, it takes the woman-in-peril formula and jiggers with it just enough to come up with something worth watching…and not just for De Mornay's bosom.Sarah Taylor (Rebecca De Mornay) is a psychologist who starts receiving threatening letters and packages, like someone is stalking her. But is her stalker Tony Ramirez (Antonio Banderas), the Puerto Rican charmer she's just fallen in love with? I s it Cliff Raddison (Dennis Miller), her upstairs neighbor who had a one-night stand with Sarah long ago and seems desperate for another encounter? Is it Max Chelski (Harry Dean Stanton), the serial killer she's analyzing in prison for his upcoming trial? Could it be her father Henry (Len Cariou), who's just re-entered her life and with whom Sarah has an obviously disturbing relationship? Or does her stalker have something to do with the fiancée who abandoned Sarah almost a year ago? The story keeps you wondering until revealing the truth, which turns out to be pretty decent for a twist ending.Clocking in at under 90 minutes, Never Talk to Strangers is like a well made wading pool. There's no depth to it but it works as it's intended to. There's some sex, some mystery, a little humor from Dennis Miller and just a touch of violence. There's not a lot of chemistry between De Mornay and Antonio Banderas. However, they're both very pretty and the movie moves quickly enough that it never asks you to take their relationship too seriously. De Mornay, Banderas and the rest of the cast do reasonably good acting jobs and the film is adequately written and directed. Despite the ambition of the twist ending, there's not a lot here that will stick with you. For less than 90 minutes, though, it's a pleasant diversion.The only thing that separates Never Talk To Strangers from the typical woman-in-peril movie you'd see on the Lifetime channel are a few F-words, Banderas' bare butt and De Mornay's naked breasts. So, if you're looking for a good, racier version of that sort of thing…you'll find it here.The only truly interesting things about this film are the fact that De Mornay was one of the producers, demonstrating again the principle of Producer Self-Nudity, and that it's a product of the aforementioned De Mornay boomlet. It's one of the more intriguing Hollywood phenomena, where an actress who may have had some success as a starlet but never became a star, suddenly experiences a career resurgence in her 30s. These women usually get one attention-grabbing role and it's like the movie industry notices them again and decides to see if they can squeeze any more juice out of them. Sometimes these boomlets reinvigorate a career, like they did with Sharon Stone. Sometimes it just peters out, like it did with De Mornay. But whatever the reason for them, the 30something boomlet is probably the one thing that keeps a lot of actresses plugging away in movies long after they should have found other employment. I'm pretty sure the beautiful and talented Winona Ryder is wondering when her boomlet is going to come along.

Man, is this lousy. It doesn't deserve much in the way of comment so, keeping it brief, Rebecca DeMornay is a highly disciplined police psychiatrist who falls for Latin Lover Antonio Banderas in a wine store, he of the ponytail and jail-house tats. When she cuts loose, she really cuts loose. Other than this torrid affair she's having (and we must admit the affair has its speed bumps) she's a pretty cold fish. Her broke, ailing father shows up for the first time in years and she boots him out. She's also adept at keeping her horny upstairs neighbor (Dennis Miller) at bay. And there's prisoner Harry Dean Stanton who's trying to maneuver her into giving him a diagnosis of multiple personality disorder so he won't have his privates nailed to the wall for the serial murders he's committed.All these people, and perhaps more, are immediately suspect when strange things begin happening to her. Somebody sends her dead flowers. Somebody does unspeakable things to her pet cat. (The next time I see a household pet turn up in a parcel or strung up in the closet or boiled in a pot, I'm going to puke.) So who's doing it? Guess. No power on earth could force me to reveal the ending, but maybe a hint will help: childhood abuse.The abuse excuse is an interesting business in itself, far more interesting than the movie. What does "childhood abuse" mean? Do we mean sexual abuse? Physical? Both? How about whacking a kid over the back with a wooden cooking spoon, hard enough to break it? That's what happened to me and my brother when we were kids, just as similar things happened to all the other errant boys in the neighborhood. Sexual abuse? That never happened to any of us, as far as I know, although I'm not sure it would have been rejected with any degree of animation. In the Samoan village I studied for two years, there was one case of an adolescent boy found playing sexually with a much younger girl. The girl's family beat hell out of him. The boy's own family sent him to live with another branch of the family in another village, an exile that lasted two years. By the time he returned the incident was forgotten by everyone, including the child. (By the way, the little girl we see here is under five so it's unlikely that she'd remember Dad's night-time visits in any case since long-term memory isn't really established until about that time.) DeMornay's experience leading to her mental disorder can be called "the social construction of trauma." It's not there unless we put it there. Enough of the psychiatric lecture. That will be fifteen cents.You want trauma? I'll give you trauma. The film absolutely forces us to identify with Rebecca DeMornay's character, right from the beginning. Then, when she has her first tryst with Antonio Banderas, and Pio Donnagio's score is pounding the eroticism into our heads, the camera gives us a shot from over her shoulder of the bare-torsoed Antonio crawling over us with his hairy chest. Now THAT'S traumatic. It makes any male viewer feel as if he's on the floor of the laundry room at the California Men's Colony in San Luis Obispo. Don't get me wrong. I don't dislike Antonio Banderas. It's just that I'm not in love with him. There aren't enough nude shots of Rebecca DeMornay's elfin body in the entire universe to compensate for that kind of anxiety.Here's an engaging way of surviving this movie. Instead of just sitting there puling, try picking out the scenes that were filmed in Toronto and separating them from the ones shot in Budapest. It's a challenge, really, and may, for all we know, preserve your sanity.

horrible, predictable and boring, this movie is obviously for horny demornay fans or just older/middle aged divorced women looking to lust after banderas, they're acting was pretty poor considering what they've done in the past was actully good, in this movie it felt like each of them were just found right from a casting call in hollywood with no experience.... what a cheap rip off of all the old classic thrillers in fact i must say it's an insult to good thrillers... thank god that year Se7en came out and that kicked the credibility out of this movie.. What's realy funny is the scene in the fence, it was supposed to be special and serious but in all actuality it's hilarious, i mean think about it!!!.. The idea alone that a successful shrink like the character demornay plays just falls for low life bum (who ends up later in the movie claiming he was a cop), who some how had enough money to get a nice new motorcycle, straight off the boat from puerto rico is hilarious cause god knows most female shrinks have such an ego and are soooo snobby that she would have smacked that bottle of wine over his head in the store to begin with had this been an accurate film but then we would never have had a movie(UNFORTUNATELY WE DID), OVERALL THE BEST ACTING IN THIS PILE OF AUDIO AND VISUAL HORSE droppings (i'd much rather use bad words to describe this but i'm going to be civil with my disgust towards thig movie) WAS FROM THE DEAD PUSSY cat. The dead cat was absolutely stunning!!!! i compare that scene of death to al Paccino's death scene in Carlito's way where he's dying. the dead cat was just that good, unfortunately the humans weren't that good.. the movie would've just been better if the porn angle between demornay and banderas went from softcore to hardcore , lets face it that would have won a great award right there... i'd comment on the whole load of bs of wheter or not Demornay was abused somehow as a child, that angle was just put there to add time to the movie not the plot.....please take everything i've said seriously, don't rent it or buy it on dvd if it's offered to you say no thank you i'll wath Se7en, if someone puts a gun to your head and says the only way i'll let you live is if you watch this movie entirely i'd take the bullet!!!