It's quite amazing -- this catastrophically scripted inanity
is insulting in every demeanor. So why is it so
entertaining? Basically, the Dutch director, Paul Verhoeven,
working with the buoyant cinematographer Jan De Bont and
some incisive editors, manage to give this dud of a film
some unexplainable forward momentum that it certainly
doesn't deserve.
The overall plot conception and its subtextual strands are
laughable, and the film's attempts at eliciting an
animalistic, 'primal' psychological nature of sexual
impulses come off as sophmoric posturing. Still, the film
manages to glide over its many inconsistencies and have the
blessed virtue of never being boring. The acting is banal,
the plot turns unsurprising, and the ending sequence is a
ludicrous concoction of Hollywood idealistics revving us up
for an inevitable sequel. Michael Douglas (a strong talent)
obviously wanted to explore some untainted sexual facets in
the 'no-holds-barred' screenplay, yet it's all at the
service of a 'whodunit' structure that doesn't make an iota
of sense.

Your basic instinct should be to steer clear of this
stinker! Ugh!