Billed as 'an erotic thriller', but devoid of thrills or frills. As Belushi and his clean-cut partner (Goldwyn) trail a serial killer, the womanising Palm Beach detective narrates the events in flashback while lying face-down in a swimming pool, à la Sunset Boulevard. The murderer sends Belushi cryptic, taunting letters, written on a conveniently damaged daisy-wheel typewriter, à la Jagged Edge. The partner suspects Belushi's jealous lover (Bracco), who gets the Kathleen Turner Body Heat role of ex-stewardess turned gold-digger. But there's no shortage of suspects, and soon everyone's dirty linen is being washed in public. The problem is, you don't really care what any of them has to hide; and when you do find out, it's so laughable that you wish you hadn't. The upbeat, double-twist ending makes no sense, the visuals are tawdry rather than glossy, and the tepid sex scenes involving Bracco's body double are more ludicrous than lubricious.