Diabolique is the the third remake of the infamous 1955 classic French film 'Diabolique'. That itself was an adaptation by author Pierre Boileau. The previous 1993 TV movie is better off forgotten, due to it's shallow atmosphere. Comparisons with the original is not something somebody would want to dwell too much on. But the question that does arise is 'Does it remain faithful to the original?. To a large extent yes this movie is much closer to the original source, but there are slight differences. Them being the ending and little detail to a few minor sub plots. The ending in the 1955 film was quiet ambiguous. And it was not certain as to whether the protagonist survived or not. So the makers decided to change it a little and make it seem like a grand finale. I feel viewers and critics were unhappy with this because it defied logic.The film has decent pacing and there is never a dull moment. However I would not deny that there is a lot that could have been changed and improved on. The editing is poor and I wonder if the screen play writer had even revised the scenes after production for errors. I could not recall when Mia had even discovered that her husband was cheating on her. And it was not revealed who had taken those photos. Sharon Stone gets under the skin of the role as usual is very convincing as the femme fatale. Kathy Bates is funny in the serious manner. Unfortunately Isabelle Adjani doesn't manage to seem much interested in her role. Perhaps this could be because she is not used to acting in English. Her anxiety moments do provoke some laughter. The films scores well as a genuine remake. Despite the flaws, it is worth a watch. But there are far worse ones out there. Need I mention 'Psycho'?

The classic French thriller Diabolique has a sturdy story, which is one reason why it is a target for remakes. The film was remade for American television twice - first as Reflections of Murder (featuring Tuesday Weld, Joan Hackett and Sam Waterston) and later as House of Secrets (with Melissa Gilbert and Bruce Boxleitner). To be honest, both of those remakes are certainly interesting to watch, if lacking in the suspense and novelty of the original. Reflections is fairly faithful to its parent, while House of Secrets maintains the bare bones of the storyline and throws in a different setting and some elements of voodoo. If you have not seen the original, the enjoyment level of both those films will be elevated.The same cannot be said for the first dunderheaded attempt to cinematically remake the French classic for American audiences. Keeping the original name, story and setting would seem a step in the right direction, but the film fails due to some incredibly foolish choices.The action takes place at a private boys prep school overseen by the hateful Chazz Palminteri. In between stealing funds from the school, Palminteri enjoys subjecting wife Isabelle Adjani - who suffers from a weak heart - to assorted cruelties. In his spare time, he engages in S&M with ice queen blond teacher Sharon Stone. The two women - tired of his abuse - decide to murder him, drop his body in the disgustingly filthy school pool and make it appear that he drowned in a drunken accident. Naturally, nothing goes according to plan.The best thing about this film is probably the casting of Sharon Stone in the role made famous by French actress Simone Signoret. If anyone embodies some of the same cunning and sensuality of Signoret from the original in a modern actress, it would be Stone. Unfortunately, the screenplay and everything around her fails to support her in any way.The changes made to the screenplay are not improvements. While a remake need not be slavishly faithful to the original, it should not completely go off the beaten path the way that this film does, particularly in its finale. The shock twist ending of the original may no longer be fresh, but the shaggy dog pseudo-feminist tilt tacked on to this latest effort seems to come completely from left field and is a blatant misfire.If Stone was an inspired choice, the remainder of the cast is less so. Isabelle Adjani, looking puffy and listless, is completely underwhelming as the abused wife. At no point does she engage our sympathy and she often seems entirely too lacking in energy to be remotely terrified. This may well be the most laid-back "frightened" performance one has ever seen on celluloid.Kathy Bates shows up as a detective investigating Palmineri's disappearance and driving the women to distraction. Her performance is immensely enjoyable and she seems to be having a good time. As a cancer survivor, she gets to crack completely inappropriate jokes and attempts to lay the groundwork for the "we're all sisters under the skin" meme that creeps into the film's finale. Unfortunately, her character and performance belongs in a completely different (and one would argue better) film.And the casting of Chazz Palminteri as the abusive schoolmaster is a disaster. Palminteri, providing the same performance here as he does in his guise of the reliable Mafia hit man roles in which he specializes, is laughably miscast. As tough as he comes off, Adjani could arguably physically match him and Stone could step on him without blinking twice. Not only that, but we have to believe that there was something that attracted these two attractive women to him and kept them in his orbit when they could easily have moved on. Palminteri, resembling a large trout, and playing a man with the charisma of a barracuda, seems an impossible prospect for these women. We have to believe that one lovely woman would fall for him (much less two) and no gigantic leap of faith can make this happen.Director Jeremiah Chechik has absolutely no idea how to maintain suspense or an atmosphere of foreboding. The scene shifts are klutzy and obvious. The pacing is often laborious, which allows the viewer time to mull over the complexities of the plots and double-crosses played out before us and realize how absurd the entire scenario truly is - something that the original (as well as its TV remakes) never allowed the viewer time to contemplate. This material needs a skilled hand, but what is provided is a clumsy sledgehammer.The original is noted especially for its shock ending. This remake seems initially to be going for the same thing and then suddenly backtracks - with remorseless characters suddenly developing consciences and people conducting themselves in ways not previously indicated in their respective behavior. By the time all of the leads end up in a watery fight, one realizes what a foolish level to which the film has sunk. One is sternly advised to locate either the original French classic or one of its TV counterparts before descending to this entry.

I've read through many perspectives on this film, and one that seems to crop up time and again is the word 'camp.' Unfortunately, the film never establishes itself as camp, or indeed anything. It's pointless. There being little to add to the dissection of this film's problems, let's concentrate for a second on how a script this revolting gets made into a film this unsatisfying.Firstly, you have to have a screenwriter who really wants to make a point about how he understands the original. But another trait he has to have is that he doesn't think many other people understand the original. Then, you have to have him working with a culture he doesn't understand. How Sharon Stone got a job in a Catholic boarding school is amazing! Let alone how Palmintieri could stand over his dying wife, or how a boy could break through into the headmaster's quarters, witness the entire scene, and not be sent away. I had nine years in boarding school, and not once, thankfully, did I get to see my headmaster bare-chested. I can understand the chap's fascination with his naked language teacher, and it's very plausible he might find his way to a window to watch from a distance, but he must be the most intuitive, caring boy in the world to have grasped that something was very wrong - and then, if he had done so, he would have gone straight for that adult that Palmintieri has to tell him to go and find. Perhaps he is desperately in love with Miss Adjani. Whatever.Then you have two other awful, awful pieces of writing/casting. (a) the video team - straight out of the 'Titanic' school of cheeky-chappy enthusiasts who say dude all the time and really don't give a fiddler's toss about anything other than the geeky enjoyment their jobs bring them. This kind of embarrasiing stereotyping wiped at least a star off my rating of 'Lock, Stock' (the scousers) and it's just insulting to camera technicians everywhere. Hollywood's presentation of enthusiasts has often been has often been unkind in a 'let's laugh at them' kind of way; here,it's unwatchable. And (b) the other members of staff. You kind of wish the two girls could have chosen their victims more wisely. That would have made the ending much more acceptable. While they were about it, they could also have knocked off that bug-eyed monster whom someone has come back later on in order to introduce a "mystery" element with the sunglasses.Then, you MUST have a director who wants to refer back to the original with as many 'atmosphere shots' as he can find. Probably in homage to it, but again, with no real point. In the original, the dripping tap serves a purpose of heightening the atmosphere of tension. In this film, there IS no tension until right near the end, when KB is wandering through the garage. But why is she wandering through the garage? So the director can 'explain' where Palmintieri has been hiding all this time.By trying to do the original film homage while making his own point about what a great scriptwriter he is (is he?) or what a great director he is (is he?), the person or persons most responsible for this film, clearly told to cut down on the length of the original, never pauses long enough to let anything sink in. Thus the rhythm of the piece goes sideways. And I found myself thinking there must have been a moment during production when some studio heads said, "But, you see, we MUST have some violence, and a chase, some nudity and a sex scene." What began life as a vicious rape of his wife in the 50s classic becomes a ludicrous idea in this, effortlessly summarised by another reviewer here (thank you sir) as words to the effect of, "He terrorises and humiliates her so much that she has to shag him." I must say, though, Stone and Bates give class performances where and when they can - it's just Stone belongs in another film entirely, and Bates is given some classic quips but becomes a pawn in the filmmakers' race for the perfect, satisfying ending. Indeed, as other commentators have noted, halfway through they decide she is Columbo. "Just one more thing," she says, and I kid you not. Anyway, dears, the perfect, satisfying ending would have been for Bates to have locked everyone else in the school, including the scriptwriter and the director, and set fire to it.This film does nothing that you can't find in the French and Saunders videos on Youtube (try the classic "House of Idiot" or "Whatever Happened to Baby Dawn". Except embarrass you, appal you, and make you sick. But you know, there is a plus-side. The film ended!

OK, so I just adore this little flop of a movie. The look, the acting (especialy Stone, Bates and Knight) and the screenplay all converge toward a distinctly campy second degree, sometimes close to comedy. Make it black comedy.Don't get me wrong, I'm a big Clouzot fan; Le Corbeau is one of my all time favorite, and his original Diaboliques, based on Boileau and Narcejac short story, ranks prominently in my list, too. And frankly, I was quite ambivalent about it being remade. And then I heard of the casting (Stone/Adjani), which is a once in a lifetime kinda thing and the choice of giving direction to then newcomer Jeremiah Chechick, still fresh from his well received debut Benny and Joon.So I told to myself, "Hey, could be worse". But I wasn't entirely convinced. Of course, I didn't know then that Don Roos had penned the laced in acid screenplay with the tongue firmly in cheek.Stone's Nicole: "You're dead, this is heaven and I'm the Vigin Mary. Can you swallow?" This is one of my favorite line, ever. That Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolfe homage with Shirley Knight is also priceless.To appreciate this movie, I think you must be a camp addict, or a gay, or both. One way or the other, the audience for this kind of sophisticated junk seems to be timid, or easily convinced to doubt of its own tastes. Maybe that's why Basic Instinct 2, a very similar outing, flopped. Too bad.