A Perfect Murder" picks up the "close but no cigar" award. The movie is entertaining, featuring appealing actors and enough plot twists to keep the audience engaged. But two flaws mar this film.

        The movie is based on the play "Dial M for Murder" by Frederick Knott, as was Alfred Hitchcockís film of the same name, starring Ray Milland and Grace Kelly. In this new adaptation, Michael Douglas and Gweneth Paltrow take the spotlight as Steven and Emily Taylor. A rich, glamorous pair, enmeshed in a relationship of mutual hate.

        Immediately the age disparity between the couple raises eyebrows, but old men and young women is a common theme in Hollywood this summer, no matter how much it stretches credibility. A greater problem, however, is the fact that Gweneth's character is never developed. Either the direction by Andrew Davis or the screenplay by Patrick Smith Kelly falls down on the job, because Gweneth comes across as a cold heartless creature we really care little about.

        And why did she marry him anyway? Itís obvious what he gets, sheís an excellent adornment, and with money to boot. But whatís in it for her? Supposedly she was so enraptured with him that she gleefully jumped the broom without a prenup.

        All we know is that Gweneth is no longer keen on her marriage, preferring to spend her lunch breaks horizontal with Viggo Mortensen, who plays a bohemian artist. Viggoís role is also sketched with a broad brush, one that he wields himself, apparently. His own artwork is featured on the set.

        So the only character with whom the audience spends any quality time is the miscreant, and like the old melodrama where we gleefully "hiss the villain" weíre supposed to hate Michael Douglas. But since he is the only on-screen character with any depth, I found myself rooting enthusiastically for his success.

        The second flaw of the film is the ending. After establishing an elaborate plot with some innovative twists, the final ten minutes collapse into a fight to that death shoot out that is tedious rather nail-biting. Itís rather like creating a delicate and complicated soufflÈ murder mystery and serving it with last monthís tapioca pudding. In short, 100 of the 107 minutes are great, but the final verdict is almost, but no tobacco product.

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