Caught

Have you ever wondered what The Postman Always Rings Twice might have been like if Edward Albee had written it? At its best, Caught occasionally plays like a low key version of Who's Afraid of James M. Cain. But the movie never quite succeeds in developing enough of the juicy, crude texture of either writer as Caught repeatedly gets snagged on the rusty hooks of its own second-hand devising.

Not that there is anything wrong with the film's initial premise. It is a grand tradition in film noir that an older man with a younger wife will inevitably meet up with a likable young stud. Obviously, Caught is hoping to catch up with a long line of famous movies that have taught mature men to eye youth with a grave sense of foreboding.

But the three main characters in Caught border too close to parody. Joe (Edward James Olmos) is an aging fish monger in New Jersey who is weirdly obsessed with deboning the morning catch. His wife Betty (Maria Conchita Alonso), spends way too much time in the bathtub while perfecting her Liz Taylor pout in hopes of projecting unfulfilled sexual longings. Nick (Arie Verveen), the young drifter who they inexplicably have taken in as a lodger, spends his time wearing towels and waiting to get into the bathroom. Sooner or later, he and Betty are going to discover a mutual interest in plumbing.

Unfortunately, Nick doesn't know better than to get involved with a married woman who has a kid. In Betty's case, its her psycho son Danny (Steven Schub). He is a comedian wannabe who has all of the retro soused charm of a bad Tarantino impersonator (or is that an oxymoron). Danny is also the poster boy for the Oedipus complex and is more upset about mommy's continuing fling than is Joe. By all appearance, Joe is finally getting some good sleep.

Which means that Caught has some modest potential for producing a bout of sexual fireworks. But the movie never catches fire, despite several fine performances and a decent, smokey jazz score. There's just too much cod liver oil in the way.