Michael Zen had me hooked from the outset of "Stiletto", a porn thriller in the vein of Brian DePalma's "Dressed to Kill". Too bad he managed to botch it up in the final reel, with no one else to blame, given that he hogs director, writer and editing credits.
It features Wicked Pictures contract superstar Devinn Lane, portraying a porn actress saddled with a pretentious director (not Zen) poorly acted by one-note sinister Evan Stone. Stone is one of those fictional beasties who supposedly exploits his hired talent by actively trying to scare Lane out of her wits in order to get a suitable scream queen performance on tape, but the show remains interesting and suspenseful because there are plenty of other suspects in the cast who might be behind the mysterious stalking that takes place not only in Devinn's nightmares but in her waking existence as well.
SPOILER ALERT:
Zen excels in creating many doppelgangers for Devinn, all wearing black wigs and shades and more impressive to me than those of many a mainstream film. These include equally busty Kim Chambers as a co-star in Stone's feature titled "Stiletto", whose physical resemblance to Devinn is impressive, plus the husband/wife team of Nicole Sheridan and Voodoo. Yes, I was completely fooled by Voodoo in drag paired with his wife as lookalike wigged beauties, replete with red stiletto high heels, making for a dramatic reveal when both doff their disguises and reveal themselves as fans hired to torment Devinn (but receiving threesome sex with her rather than a reprimand after coming clean).
The high style that Zen brings to his various suspense scenes, nightmares and particularly a kinky erotic dream in which the glass door to Devinn's shower is used in novel fashion as a barrier to sex on either side is sadly abandoned in the final reel. The auteur shows a lot of footage over again (coming off as padding rather than artistry) in building toward an ambiguous climax which intentionally leads one to wonder whether Devinn subconsciously dreamed up everything we have seen or perhaps she turns violent in real life. Either way, I found this conclusion as unsatisfying as the dreadful but off-copied gimmick ending of DePalma's "Carrie", with a hand thrust up suddenly out of the grave. Too bad Zen didn't choose Hitchcock as his prime influence here, rather than that plagiarist of Hitch named Brian.
It features Wicked Pictures contract superstar Devinn Lane, portraying a porn actress saddled with a pretentious director (not Zen) poorly acted by one-note sinister Evan Stone. Stone is one of those fictional beasties who supposedly exploits his hired talent by actively trying to scare Lane out of her wits in order to get a suitable scream queen performance on tape, but the show remains interesting and suspenseful because there are plenty of other suspects in the cast who might be behind the mysterious stalking that takes place not only in Devinn's nightmares but in her waking existence as well.
SPOILER ALERT:
Zen excels in creating many doppelgangers for Devinn, all wearing black wigs and shades and more impressive to me than those of many a mainstream film. These include equally busty Kim Chambers as a co-star in Stone's feature titled "Stiletto", whose physical resemblance to Devinn is impressive, plus the husband/wife team of Nicole Sheridan and Voodoo. Yes, I was completely fooled by Voodoo in drag paired with his wife as lookalike wigged beauties, replete with red stiletto high heels, making for a dramatic reveal when both doff their disguises and reveal themselves as fans hired to torment Devinn (but receiving threesome sex with her rather than a reprimand after coming clean).
The high style that Zen brings to his various suspense scenes, nightmares and particularly a kinky erotic dream in which the glass door to Devinn's shower is used in novel fashion as a barrier to sex on either side is sadly abandoned in the final reel. The auteur shows a lot of footage over again (coming off as padding rather than artistry) in building toward an ambiguous climax which intentionally leads one to wonder whether Devinn subconsciously dreamed up everything we have seen or perhaps she turns violent in real life. Either way, I found this conclusion as unsatisfying as the dreadful but off-copied gimmick ending of DePalma's "Carrie", with a hand thrust up suddenly out of the grave. Too bad Zen didn't choose Hitchcock as his prime influence here, rather than that plagiarist of Hitch named Brian.