Wild Things: A Twisty Erotic Thriller That Gets Lost in Its Own Deception

Wild Things is the kind of movie that practically dares its audience to figure out who is manipulating whom. Every character has an angle, everyone seems to be hiding something and trusting anyone is practically a death sentence. It’s an erotic thriller built almost entirely around deception, manipulation and greed, with sexuality functioning as another weapon in an increasingly elaborate game of control.

The film’s central theme is that nobody can be trusted. Every relationship is transactional and every character seems willing to sacrifice someone else if it gets them closer to a hefty payday. Sexuality is particularly important because attraction and desire are repeatedly weaponized to manipulate people. The film understands that the most dangerous person in the room is not necessarily the person holding the weapon, but the person who knows exactly what everyone else wants.

John McNaughton’s direction gives the film a distinct visual identity. Rather than presenting Florida as the sun-drenched paradise often associated with Miami, McNaughton fills the film with muddy swamps, grimy environments and an almost perpetually overcast atmosphere. The setting mirrors the moral rot of the characters. There is something intentionally ugly about the world of Wild Things, which works particularly well alongside its polished, wealthy suburban setting.

The film also carries a deadpan sense of humor that gives the erotic thriller formula some extra bite. McNaughton understands that the material is inherently ridiculous and occasionally lets the absurdity breathe rather than treating every twist with complete seriousness. That tonal awareness helps distinguish Wild Things from some of the more self-serious erotic thrillers flooding theaters during the 1990s.

The performances are a mixed bag, depending on how much you buy into what the movie is selling. Matt Dillon never strikes me as particularly charming, which makes him feel more like a sleazy guy than the innocent guidance counselor the film initially wants us to believe he is. That casting choice makes the central deception harder to buy, because Dillon’s inherent persona seems to work against the character’s supposed innocence.

Denise Richards looks the part but struggles to match the confidence of the material with her performance. Her delivery can be stiff, which makes some of her more dramatic moments feel less convincing than they should. Bill Murray, meanwhile, feels like the most naturally lived-in performer of the group. His sleazy attorney works because it allows Murray to remain close to the type of character audiences associate with him while putting a slightly darker spin on it.

Neve Campbell makes perhaps the most interesting transition. Coming off her image as the quintessential horror final girl in Scream, Campbell sheds that innocence to play the alt-girl-tinged Suzie Toller. She brings more complexity to the character than initially expected and fits comfortably into the film’s web of deception. Kevin Bacon also brings some authenticity as the detective investigating Dillon’s Sam Lombardo, grounding the increasingly ridiculous story with a performance that feels more like an actual law enforcement officer.

The writing is where Wild Things becomes both its greatest strength and its greatest weakness. The movie throws twist after twist at the audience with the enthusiasm of a roller coaster that refuses to stop. There is something undeniably entertaining about never knowing exactly what is happening, but eventually the twists become so numerous that the story begins to collapse under their weight. By the end, the plotting crosses the line from clever to ridiculous.

That excess is also part of why the film became a cult classic. Wild Things is not afraid to be trashy, lurid and completely over-the-top. It understands the appeal of the erotic thriller while simultaneously pushing the formula to increasingly absurd extremes. The problem is that it arrived near the end of an already saturated 1990s erotic thriller boom, and despite its willingness to embrace its ridiculousness, it does not completely distinguish itself from the pack.

Ultimately, Wild Things is the definition of a love-it-or-don’t-care-for-it movie. Fans of erotic thrillers will probably find something to enjoy in its elaborate deception, steamy atmosphere and ridiculous succession of twists, while anyone looking for a tightly constructed mystery may find the plotting exhausting. There is enough style, entertainment and sheer audacity here to explain its cult status, but the film’s relentless need to surprise ultimately undermines the story it is trying to tell.