46 / CHRONICLESnSCREENnEmpty Tomato Plotnby Katherine DaltonnExtremities; written by WilliamnMastrosimone; directed by RobertnM. Young; Atlantic EntertainmentnGroup.nSo often the trouble with a playturned-movienis that the screenwriternand director have fooled with the originalntoo much — opened it up toonmuch, added too many new charactersnand too many new scenes. In the casenof William Mastrosimone’s Extremities,nhowever, the problem lies in thenfact that he and director Robert M.nYoung didn’t open it up enough. Problemsnthe play had with coherency andnlogic even when it was on Broadwaynhave not been corrected, and they’renbig enough so that this movie aboutnrape doesn’t even succeed in beingnharrowing.nExtremities opens with Joe (playednby James Russo) stalking Marjorien(Farrah Fawcett: both created thesenroles in the Broadway production) in anmall parking lot. He attacks her in herncar, and she only just escapes. Unfortunately,nhe has her wallet and sonknows her name and address, andnthough she is sure he’ll come backnafter her, the police cannot, of course,ngive her any protection. She changesnher locks and pulls her dresser in frontnof the French windows in her bedroom,nbut it’s to no avail; one sunnynsummer morning Joe just walks in thenopen door.nIt’s all pretty much rape-movienboilerplate, and watching Joe playnMarjorie on the line, I know I’ve seennit all before. There’s the usual violationnof her personal life andnpossessions—Joe asking pointed questionsnabout her friends, because he’snVITAL SIGNSnv^*”^nstolen her letters and so knows theirnnames; fingering a music box thatnseems to have a picture of her grandmothernon it, and so presumably isndear to her; then raiding her underwearndrawer for the pair he wants hernto wear. And there’s the inevitablenfailed escape attempt by Marjorie,nafter which Joe says, predictably, “So.nI can’t trust you.”nFor all that, much of this is old hat;nup to the moment Marjorie attacks Joenwith the bug spray and ties him upnwith the phone cord, the movie isnwell-paced and well-acted. JamesnRusso gives a good performance thenwhole way through, and Fawcett doesnwell in these early scenes. But both arenhampered by a poor script, and whatnability Mastrosimone has is for actionnscenes, not discussion and denouement.nBy the time Marjorie gets Joenlocked up in a makeshift jail in thenfireplace, it’s Mastrosimone who’s innextremis. He can’t seem to figure outnwhat to do with his main character.nAt some moments she seemsninsane—after all, she’s been attackedntwice by a rapist who just finishednknocking her around her own housenfor an hour and nearly killed her. Itnwould make sense, in a twisted way, ifnshe did go crazy. But she doesn’t, evennthough she is determined for a while tonkill Joe. Given the circumstances,nthat’s understandable; as Joe points outnhimself, there’s no evidence of rapensince it didn’t happen (she blindednhim with bug spray just in time), andneven if she could get a conviction onnher word alone, he wouldn’t be in jailnlong. As soon as he got out, he tellsnher, he’d return to kill her. If someonensaid that to you, you’d consider buryingnhim next to your tomatoes, too.nShe starts the grave and then abandonsnit, and starts and abandons all hernarguments as to why she hasn’t callednthe police and is keeping this mannhog-tied in her living room. Finally,nall that’s left is the necessity she sees inngetting him to confess in front of hernnnroommates (who by then have returned)nso that she has “proof” he didnattack her. But even that doesn’t makenmuch sense. Surely any lawyer couldnargue, and persuade a judge and jury,nthat a confession got under duress is nonconfession at all, and here lay poor oldnJoe trussed up, blinded and halfpoisonednby bug spray, terrified ofnsome crazy woman who wouldn’t takenhim to the hospital until he confessednto something he now swears on hisnmother’s good name he didn’t do.nNor can Fawcett patch up with hernperformance all the holes Mastrosimonenhas left in her character. She isnterrific as the victim, but can’t makenthe transition to victimizer. It’s notnhardness she’s lacking, it’s intensity.nFawcett just can’t pull it off; her furynrings hollow, and the night I saw it thenaudience even laughed at some of hernangriest lines.nIt’s not that Mastrosimone shouldnhave transformed his play into an “issues”npiece and had his charactersncome up with a discussion along thenlines of the Bernie Goetz debate. Butnonce Mastrosimone gets his charactersnto the point where they’ve switchednroles, Joe inside in the fireplace andnMarjorie outside, he can get no farther.nMarjorie, who must carry thenmovie, dissolves into a muddy characterization.nIn what seems to be a lastditchneffort to get the ball rollingnagain, Mastrosimone brings the twonroommates home. But both of themnare so shallowly drawn (and, in thencase of Diane Scarwid as Terry, sonbadly acted), they only make thingsnworse. Only James Russo’s ability tonact and his character’s breakdown saventhe end of the movie.nIn real life, which seldom imitatesnShakespeare, a situation like this onenmight be played out just as Mastrosimonenwrote it, with nobody beingnable to articulate her fears or intentions,nnobody making much sense.nBut the job of a theater piece is tondistill life, to be realistic and stilln