Body of Evidence (1993)
Directed by Ulrich Edel
Written by Brad Mirman
Tagline: “This is the murder weapon. Her name is Rebecca.”
As our picture begins, it’s raining. This is so we’ll know we’re watching a film noir, and not just a tawdry excuse to see William Dafoe’s chest develop a dull waxy build-up of candle-drippings. But let’s be honest—when the sexiest part of your leading man’s performance is his impersonation of a Chianti bottle, your erotic thriller may be in trouble.
Anyway, elderly millionaire Andrew Marsh has died of heart failure, and the police quickly deduce from the tagline that Marsh’s girlfriend Rebecca (Madonna) killed him with her BODY! And when the police learn that Marsh left her $8 million, she is tried for murder. Madonna hires shyster Willem Dafoe to defend her because she saw him in that Scorsese movie and figured he was easily tempted.
Presiding over the trial is Black Judge Judy, who hates everybody, but reserves her special contempt for the audience. Well, we do have it coming.
D.A. Joe Mantegna declares that Madonna “is the murder weapon itself.” He compares her to a knife or a gun. Clearly, stricter Madonna control legislation is called for, but the NRA counters that “If you outlaw Madonnas, only outlaws will have mediocre pop stars.”
At a billable dinner, Madonna relates a suggestive story about getting scratched on the thighs while stealing strawberries as a child. This excites Willem, who realizes he has solved The Caine Mutiny mystery. They rip off each other’s clothes, then she takes a candle and drips hot wax on his chest. Willem whimpers. Then she heads south with the molten paraffin, while Willem whines. And we see that Madonna, slut though she may be, is actually furthering the feminist agenda, since it’s about time that a man had to experience a bikini wax. Meanwhile, Willem wails.
Back in court, the prosecution calls to the stand Jürgen Prochnow, Marsh’s former doctor. He testifies that he and Madonna used to be lovers, and that he had told her that the old guy would die if he ever had wild sex with a self-promoting exhibitionist. But Willem brings in surprise evidence proving that Jürgen was in Dune and Judge Dredd! The plot congeals!
Since he didn’t screw up in court that day, Madonna gives Willem a hand job in a crowded elevator. The other lawyers and the Japanese tourists finally get off (ha ha), leaving Madonna and Willem free to engage in really public sex in the parking garage. Madonna climbs on Willem’s car and the camera shoots from between her legs, revealing (purely by chance) her black garter belt. She smashes the overheard light, then hangs from the pipes and wraps her legs around Willem’s head. She looks like Mary Lou Retton in heat.
Madonna tells Willem that the jury hates her (a lucky guess on her part). She adds that the women think she’s a whore and the men think she’s a bitch (another lucky guess). So, she has to testify, to explain that it wasn’t her idea to be in this movie, it was Sandra Bernhardt’s. Her plan works, as the jury reasons that if the defendant was bi, she doesn’t have to die. She goes free.
So justice has triumphed, right? Not really, for when Willem arrives at Madonna’s to present his bill, he finds Jürgen there, discussing how they killed Marsh. Willem bitterly announces that he would have defended Madonna even if she hadn’t, um, boinked him. Jürgen is surprised to learn that Madonna isn’t like a virgin. She says (not an exact quote), “Don’t look so hurt, Jürgen. I boinked you, I boinked Marsh, I boinked Willem. That’s what I do: I boink. And it made me 8 million dollars!” And that was just in tips!
Jürgen is miffed and tries to kill Madonna. She and Jürgen fight over the gun, and she gets shot. Then Jürgen and Willem get to roughhousing and Jürgen falls over a railing and dies. As Willem tenderly ministers to Madonna, Jürgen comes back to life, shoots her again, and re-dies. D.A. Joe Montegna arrives to deliver the moral of the piece: “People usually get what they deserve.”
Thanks, Joe. Not exactly “Twas Beauty killed the Beast!” or “Keep watching the skies!” In fact, it sucks about as bad as the rest of the movie, but at least it’s a better coda than “Madonna will be back in Body of Evidence 2: Body on Tap!”
But what would this movie have been like if, instead of Willem Dafoe, Madonna had engaged Perry Mason to represent her?
Well, obviously Perry wouldn’t have slept with his client—he’s too principled for that. And too gay. And he damned well wouldn’t have let D.A. Hamilton Burger deliver the coda!
And if Mason had defended her, Madonna would have been innocent, no matter how damning the evidence, and no matter how many people she boinked. We think the climatic courtroom scene would have gone a little something like this:
D.A. Burger: So, not only is the defendant guilty of murdering an innocent dirty old millionaire for his money, but she herself was the murder weapon. For proof, we offer into evidence the movie’s poster. The prosecution rests.
Mason: Your honor, while it may appear that my client killed Mr. Marsh by forcing him to have kinky sex with her until he died of Viagra poisoning, I submit that the real killer was...Willem Dafoe! He seemed to have nothing to do with this crime. Nobody suspected him. Therefore, he’s clearly guilty! If the police had conducted even a rudimentary record check they would have found that Dafoe was the nefarious boat-crashing terrorist in Speed 2, the murderous psychopath Green Goblin in Spiderman, the depraved Bob Crane-killing pornographer in Auto-Focus, and a really unconvincing T.S. Eliot in Tom and Viv. It’s clear that he killed Marsh in order to land the role as the villain in the new Bond movie.
Willem: Yes, I did it! I did it and I’m glad! I also committed those ice pick murders Sharon Stone got blamed for. I really did it to open the way for my fellow male actors (who are always unfairly stereotyped as dupes and patsies in these films), to play the sexy femme fatale roles! But I would like to be the new Bond villain, yes.
Burger: Your honor, I object! Speed 2 was not made until four years from now.
Judge: I refuse to rule on your motion because maybe I am the murderer. Nobody ever suspects us plump black woman. Hey, we can be treacherous, erotic killers too, you know!
Mason: Then my client is free to go.
Burger: Not so fast! She still has to answer those Swept Away war crimes charges!
Mason: Oh...right. Say, Hamilton, why don’t you just boink her and we can call the whole thing even?
Cut to a shot of the lonely, hard-working Burger lying dead in a parking garage, bludgeoned by an SUV owner who didn’t appreciate the D.A. having gymnastic sex on his hood. A discarded newspaper beside his body proclaims “Willem Dafoe, Psycho Killer, to be New Bond Villain.” Meanwhile, a TV in the attendant’s booth shows Madonna making additional millions with her Gap commercials and children’s book. Mason strolls in to proclaim, “People usually get what they deserve. Except in real film noir.”
The End.
Housekeeping Note: Ever feel like patting the writer on the head, but already subscribe to seven hundred other things? Me too. So I’ve added a Tip Jar below, if you ever feel like bunging in a few bucks to say “Atta Boy!”
“This is the murder weapon. Her name is Rebecca.” "And this is the dull butter knife next to the body. Her name is Bernice."
Perfect recap of every Perry Mason episode ever.
Also, if nothing else I admire Madonna for being immensely practical. I envision her thinking: "Sure this movie is nothing but a scaled-up episode of Silk Stalkings. But it's better than dumpster diving for dinner!" as she goes off to plunder the crew buffet for leftovers. (Old habits die hard.)