"Mirror Images" is another softcore romp from Gregory Dark, the so called "Scorsese of B-movies". Do I even need to tell you that the protagonist is a neglected housewife of a powerful politician, who is putting all his energy into his career, and none into pleasing her?
Neglected housewives are soft porn's stock in trade.
The movie also features an early performance from Penthouse pet and b-movie siren Julie Strain.
An unusual twist is the inclusion of a rock band, and some glamour girl who dances on stage with them - the sister of the neglected housewife. These movies almost always take place among corporate executive types.
I guess the politician in the movie has reason to be focussed on his career. He apparently thinks that pornography is an acceptable way to advertise his campaign, and so doubtless must pay close attention to do damage control when it blows up in his face.
The bored housewife disguises herself as her sister, who, as a twin, is of course her polar opposite. The twin seems to return the favour (I think) and they both start having sex with each other's partners.
As if this wasn't enough, there's also a serial killer on the loose, running around with a mask on to hide his identity from people he's going to kill anyway.
I generally appreciate the way that the neglectful husband in these movies is generally shown to be a good guy, only "neglectful" because he's trying to make a better life for his wife and him. In "Mirror Images", though, there's really no attempt to make him likeable.
A director as limited as Dark shouldn't have gone for the old "identical twins switch identities" plot line. This would be confusing enough. Here it is so confusing as to be tiresome. You don't know who you're supposed to be watching.
There is a lesbian scene with Julie Strain which is surprisingly brief, and skimps on the nudity. It will be disappointing for any fan of hers.
John O'Hurley, known as J Peterman on "Seinfeld", has a small role, but even he, a wonderful comic actor, can't inject any life into the proceedings.
This is actually one of the more tedious straight-to-video erotic thrillers I have seen. It's impossible to care enough about the plot or even to try to follow it, and long stretches of the movie seem pointless.
Typically for '90s softcore, it ends seemingly without resolution. You only know it's over because the credits start rolling, not because the plot has been resolved. Unusual, though, that I was happy that that meant I didn't have to watch it any more.
Neglected housewives are soft porn's stock in trade.
The movie also features an early performance from Penthouse pet and b-movie siren Julie Strain.
An unusual twist is the inclusion of a rock band, and some glamour girl who dances on stage with them - the sister of the neglected housewife. These movies almost always take place among corporate executive types.
I guess the politician in the movie has reason to be focussed on his career. He apparently thinks that pornography is an acceptable way to advertise his campaign, and so doubtless must pay close attention to do damage control when it blows up in his face.
The bored housewife disguises herself as her sister, who, as a twin, is of course her polar opposite. The twin seems to return the favour (I think) and they both start having sex with each other's partners.
As if this wasn't enough, there's also a serial killer on the loose, running around with a mask on to hide his identity from people he's going to kill anyway.
I generally appreciate the way that the neglectful husband in these movies is generally shown to be a good guy, only "neglectful" because he's trying to make a better life for his wife and him. In "Mirror Images", though, there's really no attempt to make him likeable.
A director as limited as Dark shouldn't have gone for the old "identical twins switch identities" plot line. This would be confusing enough. Here it is so confusing as to be tiresome. You don't know who you're supposed to be watching.
There is a lesbian scene with Julie Strain which is surprisingly brief, and skimps on the nudity. It will be disappointing for any fan of hers.
John O'Hurley, known as J Peterman on "Seinfeld", has a small role, but even he, a wonderful comic actor, can't inject any life into the proceedings.
This is actually one of the more tedious straight-to-video erotic thrillers I have seen. It's impossible to care enough about the plot or even to try to follow it, and long stretches of the movie seem pointless.
Typically for '90s softcore, it ends seemingly without resolution. You only know it's over because the credits start rolling, not because the plot has been resolved. Unusual, though, that I was happy that that meant I didn't have to watch it any more.
