Color of Night

This - another of Willis's crimes against celluloid - is a special kind of bad. Connoisseurs of crud, however, will treasure its particular brand of klutzy chemistry. It would be unkind to give away too much of the delirious sequence of events that pass for a plot. Suffice to say that it involves hangdog Willis as a shrink understandably troubled by his patients' habit of jumping out the window during sessions; March as a so-called 'struggling actress' with whom Bruce becomes entangled; sundry scenes of murder, nymphomania, schizophrenia, etc; and, most enjoyably, the likes of Henriksen, Dourif and Warren as game members at a group therapy session, presumably intended for those unfortunates who can't spot a duff script to save their lives.