A Major Disappointment

Simple and well acted, it has tension enough to knot the stomach.

While it doesn't offer any answers, it both thrills and makes you think.

An old-fashioned movie made with new-fashioned finesse.

A photographer Adrian Wilde (Michael Callan) doesn't know of he is dreaming or awake when people are being killed while he is taking pictures. In the meanwhile he's the 'stud' of them all and all the ladies are falling for him. But in the town girls, some he photographed, are actually being murdered. Of course the question Adrian asks is if he's the killer.More a thriller then a horror this is rather low on the killings. The first whore being killed looked a bit tame. There's a bit of nudity here and there and even some full frontal but I was never in full force with this flick. I just couldn't care what happened, the killings I did care but Adrian himself I just couldn't care. The biggest name here is Seymour Cassel as Dr. Frank Curtis. For a slasher made in the heydays of horror and slashers this is extremely low on all aspects to be called a horror. It has more a television film look. Still unavailable on DVD or Blu Ray, only on VHS.It's only the fact that Adrian is a playboy that makes this a failure. All girls want him and that makes it a bit unbelievable. Almost no blood or gore to see in a period when the red stuff and gore were the big thing.Gore 0/5 Nudity 1,5/5 Effects 2/5 Story 2/5 Comedy 0/5

An LA serial killer is slaying prostitutes, moving next to nude models, and the film proposes that charming photographer Adrian (Michael Callan), a ladies' man, is perhaps this person. A cop dressed as a hooker is stabbed in the neck from behind and the LA police are seemingly powerless to stop the killer even when they are staked out only a block from where the murder took place. The film establishes the fact that Adrian is having bizarre nightmares involving women and violence. In one of these "dreams", Adrian murders a model in a pool, the victim later pulled from said pool by the police; detectives working the serial killings are frustrated that so few clues have turned up to give them some idea as to his identity. Adrian is a womanizer, lives in a rather nice mobile home, and sees a shrink (Cassavetes vet Seymore Cassel) regularly to help him cope with the strange dreams awakening him often at night in a cold sweat. Adrian has a crippled stuntman brother (missing an arm and leg due to a stunt gone awry), BJ (James Stacy), who is still rather sore about a broken marriage. BJ, however, still performs dangerous car stunts and tries, despite the handicaps, to pick up women at the local discos/dance clubs. Adrian begins what seems like a potential romance with a nurse who works at a rest home for the elderly but quits dating her (although she stays on his mind; he even stabs her in one of his dreams!). "Double Exposure",at times, seems more concerned with Adrian's photography duties instead of the plot centered around the murders…it almost feels like director Hillman could care less about the thriller aspect of the story in favor of following around Adrian on his many exploits. Actually, the serial killings subplot feels like exactly that: a subplot that intrudes on the LA adventures of photographer Adrian. If you do not like Callan or his character then "Double Exposure" will be a trial to get through I assume. It is only as the film progresses, and Adrian's mental condition worsens, that the serial killer part of the plot becomes more substantial. The film gives you warts and all in regards to the character of Adrian, his life's routine as a photographer. Again, how you like Adrian could dictate the experience. Callan really gives a full bore breakdown by film's end, really "going off the deep end". His character's reason for struggling to maintain his sanity—mommy was a whore. Yep, this development is pretty derivative. The laid back approach and jarring editing style (one minute we are in a hotel as Adrian sets up a shot with model Bambi and his brother, immediately moving into the next scene where he forces a model to help him unload camera gear as she gets dressed in clothes meant to reveal her tits) could be detrimental to the overall viewing experience as well, because director Hillman doesn't seem to want to make a straight thriller in the general sense. It is all about expectations, I think: this film sets you up with what appears to be a formula thriller then the screenplay seems to "change strategies". Quite an unusually paced movie. The detectives of the movie (including barking police chief Cleavon Little, given little to do but rip into his cops) are barely developed, because they seem to be characters Hillman seems less interested in. The revelation of the killer shouldn't really be of great surprise.Joanna Pettet is very good as Adrian's love interest, Mindy, wanting a prosperous relationship, but this will be tested as his psyche starts to fracture into pieces. Cassel really seems disinterested in his part as Adrian's psychiatrist, popping up periodically in small doses, worried about his patient's mental state as the model murders seem eerily related to the dreams often detailed during sessions. Cutie Misty Rowe is a model who befriends BJ and believes Adrian could be the killer. The lurid activities of brothers Adrian and BJ add a bit of sleaze to the film: this is definitely a Crown International Picture.

A cast of 1980's TV movie and TV series guest stars (Misty Rowe, Pamela Hemsley,Clevon Little, Seymour Cassel among several others)in the story of a photographer who has dreams about killing his models. Of course the models and other people start turning up dead causing all sorts of complications.Over done not very good thriller has enough nudity and violence to get an R rating but not enough good material to engender any real interest. This is best described as the sort of movie that gave the cable channel Cinemax the alternate name of Skinamax. I really can't see the point of watching this unless you need to see every sleazy thriller out there. (I also have to comment that this film is filled with smoking, to the point that it becomes laughable when anyone lights up)

Troubled men's magazine photographer Adrien Wilde (well played with considerable intensity by Michael Callan) has horrific nightmares in which he brutally murders his models. When the lovely ladies start turning up dead for real, Adrien worries that he might be the killer. Writer/director William Byron Hillman relates the engrossing story at a steady pace, builds a reasonable amount of tension, delivers a few gruesomely effective moments of savage misogynistic violence (one woman who has a plastic garbage bag with a rattlesnake in it placed over her head rates as the definite squirm-inducing highlight), puts a refreshing emphasis on the nicely drawn and engaging true-to-life characters, further grounds everything in a plausible everyday world, and tops things off with a nice smattering of tasty female nudity. The fine acting from an excellent cast helps matters a whole lot: Joanna Pettet as sunny, charming love interest Mindy Jordache, James Stacy as Adrien's macho double amputee brother B.J., Seymour Cassel as Adrien's concerned psychiatrist Dr. Frank Curtis, Don Potter as Adrien's feisty gay assistant Louis, Pamela Hensley as gutsy homicide detective Sergeant Fountain, Cleavon Little as a hard-nosed police chief, and Misty Rowe as sweet, bubbly model Bambi. R. Michael Stringer's polished cinematography makes impressive occasional use of breathtaking panoramic aerial shots. Jack Goga's ominous rattling score likewise does the trick. Popping up in cool bit parts are Robert Tessier as a gruff bartender, Sally Kirkland as a saucy hooker, Kathy Shower as a fierce female wrestler B.J. grapples with in the ring, and Frances Bay in one of her standard old woman roles. A solid and enjoyable picture.