After the global success of Ghost, Demi Moore consolidates here with a diametrically-opposed follow-up, not only proving her willingness to eschew the many Ghost-alikes that have inevitably come her way, but also allowing her to show genuine versatility in the thespian-prowess department.
Mortal Thoughts, in startling contrast to Jerry Zucker's smash hit, is a genuine feel-bad movie. Moore is first seen down at the cop-shop spilling her guts to detective Harvey Keitel (same role, same suit as Thelma & Louise) about the murder of her best friend's husband (Glenne Headly and Bruce Willis respectively).
Judging by Willis' behaviour, revealed in flashback, it's a wonder he made it as far as he did, being abusive, sexist and ignorant in roughly equal measure, the only question really being who of his enemies snapped first, and why.
Gradually, the truth or rather, Moore's version of it slowly falls into place, until the tale of a dumper-bound marriage, ghastly abuse and justifiable homicide is wrapped up with a not-terribly-surprising twist at the end.
While the subject is sensitively handled, and Moore and Headly shine as the New Jersey hairdressers with the husbands from hell, Alan Rudolph's heavy-handed direction especially the tedious slow-motion scenes often detracts from rather than enhances the general atmosphere of despair.
And while Bruce is by no means the laughing-stock bum of Bonfire, that smirk is getting just too smug and his Moonlighting/Die Hard persona too branded for him to ever really convince as an unemployed, coke-headed, moustachioed bastard from Nowheresville, USA.
