Exiting the theater at the end of the hall with "The Rich Man's Wife" emblazoned above the door, I am disaffected by having just survived sheer torture at the hands of Halle Berry. But through my boredom, one pressing question arises.
Is "The Rich Man's Wife" the worst movie ever made?
In the following paragraphs, an examination will be conducted to determine if this lifeless clone of every so-called suspense-thriller in the last decade is worthy of its place as the epitome of worthless cinema.
First, let us examine the sorry excuse for a plot. "Wife" is the redundant, predictable story of Josie Potenza (Halle Berry), who is, NO!, a rich man's wife.
Said rich man is Tony (Christopher McDonald), a television executive and adulterer extraordinaire who neglects his wife so often, she is forced into the arms of her British hunk of love, Jake Golden (Clive Owen).
Just when things are starting to get heated, Josie breaks it off with Jake and forces Tony to take her on vacation, in hopes of reconciliation with her wayward, wealthy husband.
However, Tony soon aborts the getaway in favor of a business meeting, leaving Josie to fraternize with scary stranger Cole (Peter Greene). Seemingly moments after meeting Cole, the pair are inexplicably best friends and she tells him every detail of her sordid, sorrowful life.
When Cole turns psychotic and obsessive in record time and offers to kill Tony, Josie hightails it back to Los Angeles where marital bliss is suddenly prevalent.
That happiness is shattered when Cole follows Josie home, kidnaps Tony, takes him to a park and shoots him at least 80 times, before he finally expires on some playground equipment - easily the most hilarious death scene ever captured on film.
To make a mercilessly long story short, Cole blackmails Josie, claiming the murder was her idea. Josie turns to Jake, who is, not surprisingly, in cohorts with Cole to get his hands on Tony's money. With no other suspects, the bumbling police officers blame Josie for the murder, who in turn must kick ass and reclaim her good name.
If the film sounds like a bad episode of "Melrose Place," you're giving it too much credit. "Melrose" is "Masterpiece Theater" compared to this cliched movie of the week.
Second, let us probe the less-than-Oscar-worthy acting. Berry, in "Jungle Fever" and "Losing Isaiah," proved herself adept at playing crack addicts. Here, however, she is reduced to poorly playing damsel-in-distress, while looking fashionable in various earth tones and clingy metallics and being eerily reminiscent of Michael Jackson.
The men in Josie's life also choose to go down with the ship rather than redeem themselves with their previously confirmed acting skills. Acting? Who needs acting when you've got a proven hit-making formula?
Christopher McDonald has forged a career on portraying myriad low-lifes, heathens and overall bad guys in films like "Grease 2," "Thelma & Louise" and "Happy Gilmore," but he is at his worst as Tony, sporting a prosthetic gut and permanent scowl that screams, "Dislike This Man!"
As Cole, Peter Greene is believable as a country-bumpkin from hell, but fails to garner any credibility in the first half of film as Josie's sweet, thoughtful confidant. Did she not see him as Zed in "Pulp Fiction?" Does Russell's old room ring a bell?
Third and finally, observe the shoddy production of the film. Wait - don't waste your time. "Wife" is a testament to what can happen if a camera and a cast fall into hands that are unaware of the meaning of style or substance.
Continuity is obviously not in the film's vocabulary either, since the end result has so many holes, it would make mesh feel self-conscious.
If one good thing can be said about "The Rich Man's Wife," it is that it ended in less than 90 minutes.
Despite overwhelming evidence endorsing it as the paramount calamity in film history, this piece of regurgitated pop culture still cannot surpass the likes of "Ishtar," "Shanghai Surprise" or anything starring Anna Nicole Smith as the epitome of worthless cinema.
Though it is not the Miss America of crap, "The Rich Man's Wife" does deserve a divorce and some lovely parting gifts for turning its failure into an affair that is so preposterous, so falsely stylish, so earnestly horrid that leaving the theater with a huge smile, a hearty laugh and seven less dollars is almost justifiable.
Don't be afraid, Halle. Zed's dead, Halle, Zed's dead.