Spoiler alert: I herein reveal every single detail of this movie. But if you haven't already seen it anyway, all I can say is "for shame," and keep reading because this is need-to-know information.
Fatal Attraction is like A Nightmare on Elm Street for playahs, ballers, and lawyer douchebags, with the part of Freddy Kruger played by a psycho hose beast with whom said douche has unfortunately chosen to have a one-night stand.
Hell hath no fury like a female NYC publishing executive scorned, and this entire movie is a two-hour montage of Glenn Close unleashing said fury on Michael Douglas and his whole family after Mike refuses to ditch his mousy wife and adorbs daughter for Glenn's Nordstrom Rack blouse and frosted Ogilvie home perm.
Fatal Attraction is like A Nightmare on Elm Street for playahs, ballers, and lawyer douchebags, with the part of Freddy Kruger played by a psycho hose beast with whom said douche has unfortunately chosen to have a one-night stand.
Hell hath no fury like a female NYC publishing executive scorned, and this entire movie is a two-hour montage of Glenn Close unleashing said fury on Michael Douglas and his whole family after Mike refuses to ditch his mousy wife and adorbs daughter for Glenn's Nordstrom Rack blouse and frosted Ogilvie home perm.
Basically Glenn and Mike have a weekend of hot sexy fun times, including stand-up boning and lots of titty-grabbing in an old-fashioned elevator in Glenn's apartment building. But when Michael tells Glenn wham, bam, thank you ma'am, Glenn slits her wrists in a bathtub! Don't worry though. Mike is a really good guy, so he helps staunch the bleeding before saying goodbye forever.
But he hasn't gone far enough, because Glenn hides in the bushes near his house, chowders up her Crystal Lite iced tea when she sees his family, puts the kid's pet bunny on the stove to boil (and not to make a Julia Child recipe, either), fakes a pregnancy, kidnaps the kid, and takes her on a Ferris wheel while mom drives around distraught and gets into a fender bender.
Or so he thinks. DUN DUN DUN!!!
Because just like Freddy Kruger, Glenn is haunting Mike's dreams . . . AND his reality. She's mad as hell and she's not gonna take it.
Glenn is a full-on stunt queen who stalks the ever-living SHIT out of Mike, showing up at his office, calling him non-stop, pouring acid on his car, cursing him out on tape (remember tapes?) and mailing that shit to his house. Basically she does not lay off the throttle until he's forced to move out of NYC to the 'burbs just to escape her shenanigans.
But he hasn't gone far enough, because Glenn hides in the bushes near his house, chowders up her Crystal Lite iced tea when she sees his family, puts the kid's pet bunny on the stove to boil (and not to make a Julia Child recipe, either), fakes a pregnancy, kidnaps the kid, and takes her on a Ferris wheel while mom drives around distraught and gets into a fender bender.
The bunny boiling, kidnapping to a carnival, and wife-in-car-accident is the last straw for Mike, but these antics at long last succeed in getting his attention. He hops his ass on Metro North and goes down to The Citay to give Glenn the what-for, which in this case turns out to be almost strangling her skank ass. Shortly thereafter, Glenn shows up at Mike's house and attacks Mike's wife with a kitchen knife. Mike comes running to the rescue and wrestles Glenn into a bathtub.
Now you THINK Glenn is drowned, but you'd be dead WRONG because DUN DUN DUN!
Glenn is no joke and that sucio bitch goes down swinging! She does the classic Jackie-in-the-box-pop-up-from-the-bathtub-dead-not-dead Hollywood double-fakeout, ready to go for round two. Only Mike's wife is prepared this time and shoots Glenn at point blank range, right in her Playtex 18 hour bra. After Glenn is good and dead, Mike and his wife kiss and hug so you know they're gonna be all happily ever after.
The moral of the story is Misogyny Lite: basically, it's "ladies, put on your big girl panties and know a one-night stand when you see one; and men, be careful where you stick your stockbroking dick n' balls, because your weekend side piece might turn out to be your worst effing nightmare."
Gotta love the '80s!
