“Beyond Desire,” a 1995 direct-to-video Vegas noir-thriller, is the cinematic equivalent of finding a pair of velvet Elvis paintings at a garage sale: faded, kind of tacky, but oddly charming if you squint hard enough and have a high tolerance for denim and bad decisions. Directed by Dominique Othenin-Girard, written by Dale Trevillion (whose typewriter probably still smells like Marlboros and Jack Daniels), and starring William Forsythe and the criminally underrated Kari Wuhrer, this pulpy actioner lands squarely in the realm of acceptable. It’s not great. It’s not terrible. And you keep watching because of Kari Wuhrer.
The Plot: Elvis, Hookers, and Revenge
William Forsythe plays Ray “Elvis” Patterson, a man who has clearly spent the last 14 years doing bicep curls and brooding in solitary confinement. Convicted of murdering his girlfriend—something he didn’t do, naturally—Ray is released from prison with a singular mission: prove his innocence and maybe punch a few people along the way. Possibly while doing Elvis impressions. Because of course he’s called “Elvis” and wears leather jackets like they were government-issued.
Enter Rita (Kari Wuhrer), a leggy, sharp-tongued escort who was clearly crafted in a lab specifically for ’90s direct-to-video erotic thrillers. She’s the kind of call girl who doesn’t just turn heads—she whiplashes them. Her job? To help Ray navigate the sleazy, neon-lit labyrinth of Las Vegas and find the real killer. Her real job? Be inexplicably loyal to a man she just met, wear lingerie in as many scenes as legally possible, and smolder like she’s being paid by the pout.
The villain is Frank Zulla (Leo Rossi), Rita’s boss and a man so oily he might be flammable. Surprise: Frank’s not just a morally flexible pimp, he’s the very man behind the 14-year-old murder that sent Ray to prison. Shocking twist? Not really. Telegraphed like a freight train driven by a howling cliché. Still, the tension holds as Ray and Frank go on a slow-motion collision course filled with double-crosses, bullets, and more sweaty confrontations than a redneck family reunion.
The Highlights: Kari Wuhrer Is the MVP
Let’s just get it out of the way: Kari Wuhrer is the best part of this movie. She somehow elevates a role that could have been flat-out embarrassing into something almost endearing. With that husky voice and those dagger eyes, she walks the line between femme fatale and damsel with acting expertise. The script hands her a cardboard cutout and calls it a character, but Wuhrer gives it soul, sass, and just enough heat to set the film’s polyester budget on fire.
William Forsythe, to his credit, tries very hard to be a brooding antihero. He frowns a lot. He smokes even more. He mumbles about justice like Batman with a head cold. But unlike the gravel-voiced vigilante, he’s also got a soft side—which you can tell because he opens up to Rita while shirtless and bandaged, the international symbol for vulnerability in low-budget thrillers.
What Works (Kind Of)
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The Setting: Shot on location in Las Vegas, the film makes decent use of the Strip, the old casinos, and even the Hoover Dam. There’s a genuine sleaziness to it that feels authentic—this isn’t the glitzy “Ocean’s Eleven” Vegas; it’s the “I pawned my grandmother’s dentures to keep gambling” Vegas.
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Pacing: At a lean 90-ish minutes, “Beyond Desire” doesn’t waste time. The plot moves along briskly, pausing only for obligatory sex scenes and the occasional burst of existential monologue.
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Action: There’s a surprising amount of gunplay for a film with a budget slightly above “community theater reenactment.” The shootouts are serviceable, even if the sound effects seem like they were borrowed from a 1987 arcade game.
What Doesn’t Work (But Tries Its Best)
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The Script: If you’ve heard one grizzled ex-con say “I’m not going back” while loading a gun, you’ve heard them all. The dialogue is stuffed with tough-guy one-liners that sound like they were pulled from a rejected Stallone movie. “You took everything from me, Frank!” is a line that gets shouted without irony.
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Chemistry: While Forsythe and Wuhrer do their best, their relationship develops at a speed that can only be explained by shared trauma or a very strong aphrodisiac. They go from strangers to soulmates faster than you can say “Stockholm Syndrome.”
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The Villain: Leo Rossi phones in a performance so mustache-twirly, you almost expect him to tie someone to railroad tracks. He’s not scary so much as annoying, like the guy at work who humble brags about watching Rachel Maddow.
The Verdict: Meh, But Make It Sexy
“Beyond Desire” isn’t high art. It’s not even high-quality trash. But it has its moments—most of them involving Kari Wuhrer in strategically shredded dresses or William Forsythe growling like he’s allergic to joy. There’s a certain appeal in its straightforward, no-frills approach to revenge. No convoluted plot twists, no postmodern irony. Just one man, one woman, and one very sweaty, semi-satisfying showdown.
Final Score: 5/10
Recommended for: Fans of Kari Wuhrer, ex-cons with a vendetta, and people who miss the days when every movie poster featured a gun, a girl, and a grudge.
