For months friends have been telling me that I was missing out by not watching the film Wild Things. In spite of their claims about the film's grandeur, I had my doubts. Could a movie that had barely registered a blip on the pop culture barometer when it was released a few years ago already of achieved some sort of cult status? Was the film that good? After seeing Wild Things for myself I realized the reason for it's popularity wasn't because it was good, rather because it was just that bad. Wild Things isn't bad in the "this movie stinks" sort of bad, rather, it's a guilty pleasure of the highest order; the sort of thing people enjoy but would rather not be caught watching.

The story, for what it matters, involves the trials and tribulations of Sam Lombardo, a high school councillor [played with amiable woodenness by Matt Dillon] who seems to spend most of his time hanging out in the Everglades, goofing about with boats, and scamming on the local female population. This, naturally, is where the trouble starts. The wild things for whom the movie are named are a pair of what appear to be 25 year old female high school students who get the melodramatic ball rolling. Suzie Toller, the girl from the wrong side of the swamp, is played by Neve Campbell while Kelly Van Ryan, the spoiled little rich girl, is played by Denise Richards, a.k.a. that chick from Starship Troopers. I don't want to give away the plot -it's something that has to be witnessed in order to be believed- but when the film opens with a character writing "SEX CRIMES" in large letters on a chalk board you know you're in for a good time. After that the film features a gratuitous car wash sequence, pointless shots of alligators, crocodile tears, skeet shooting, courtroom hysterics, and an inexplicable appearance by Bill Murray all within the first twenty minutes. Even though that would be enough brouhaha for a normal movie, the film then kicks into high gear and throws out the first major plot twist. From then on in the movie throws out so many curve balls and red herrings that Wild Things is still trying to explain itself during the ending credits. Jammed in-between all these improbable plot developments are sex scenes that are both kinky and kooky, obligatory swimming pool scenes, deliriously camp dialogue [for example, a straight faced Robert Wagner declares "You're finished in Blue Bay, Lombardo, get out!"] and the ever growing presence of Kevin Bacon. What an amazing movie. Just when I thought it was going to settle down it pulled out some new bit of nonsense that left me in hysterics.

To add to the fun, the movie is shot in a cheap, straight-to-Cinemax style that seems very appropriate. With it's focus on base pulchritude and a cheerfully sleazy plot Wild Things is the cinematic equivalent of candy: everyone likes it even though there isn't a single thing in it that's good for you. Check it out, it's a hoot.

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