My review was written in May 1988 after a Cannes Film Festival Market screening.
"Call Me" is an unusual melodrama that boasts solid performances, but is too far-fetched to fly. Cult possibilities loom for his Gotham-lense Vestron release.
Initial series of plot devices are the toughest to swallow; Anna (Patricia Charbonneau), a beautiful journalist for a Village Voice-type periodical receives an obscene phone call that turns her on. She mistakenly believes it's her boyfriend Ale and agrees to meet him at a bar she's just written about.
At the bar a strange but alluring man (Steven McHattie) comes on to her, but all hell breaks loose when she witnesses he murder of a transvestite in the ladies' room by a corrupt cop involved in a drug case.
The dirty phone calls continue and she now assumes (erroneously ) they're from McHattie. Actually McHattie is searching for her, since he was a principal in the drug deal.
Topical subject of phone sex is the hook for this contrived thriller, with a bland acquaintance of Anna's (whom she eventually and improbably sleeps with) turning out to be the mystery caller. Climax where all the cast principals happen to show up at a warehouse for a violent confrontation rings false.
Cementing the loose ends together is a strong performance by Chabonneau. The pic's sexy centerpiece is her maturbation scene following instructions from the caller, photographed tastefully as the camera circles around her loft several times. McHattie is suitably creepy, but ambiguous enough to generate sympathy as the lead heavy, with his hophead partner Switchblade (Steve Buscemi) turning in a scene-stealing job. Styled as a platinum blonde, Patti D'Arbainville adds warmth as Anna's best friend.
Pic is shot with a very hard-edged, gritty look that avoids the glamor of recent romantic thrillers in favor of generating a mean city streets/film noir mood.
"Call Me" is an unusual melodrama that boasts solid performances, but is too far-fetched to fly. Cult possibilities loom for his Gotham-lense Vestron release.
Initial series of plot devices are the toughest to swallow; Anna (Patricia Charbonneau), a beautiful journalist for a Village Voice-type periodical receives an obscene phone call that turns her on. She mistakenly believes it's her boyfriend Ale and agrees to meet him at a bar she's just written about.
At the bar a strange but alluring man (Steven McHattie) comes on to her, but all hell breaks loose when she witnesses he murder of a transvestite in the ladies' room by a corrupt cop involved in a drug case.
The dirty phone calls continue and she now assumes (erroneously ) they're from McHattie. Actually McHattie is searching for her, since he was a principal in the drug deal.
Topical subject of phone sex is the hook for this contrived thriller, with a bland acquaintance of Anna's (whom she eventually and improbably sleeps with) turning out to be the mystery caller. Climax where all the cast principals happen to show up at a warehouse for a violent confrontation rings false.
Cementing the loose ends together is a strong performance by Chabonneau. The pic's sexy centerpiece is her maturbation scene following instructions from the caller, photographed tastefully as the camera circles around her loft several times. McHattie is suitably creepy, but ambiguous enough to generate sympathy as the lead heavy, with his hophead partner Switchblade (Steve Buscemi) turning in a scene-stealing job. Styled as a platinum blonde, Patti D'Arbainville adds warmth as Anna's best friend.
Pic is shot with a very hard-edged, gritty look that avoids the glamor of recent romantic thrillers in favor of generating a mean city streets/film noir mood.