In the ten years since Jagged Edge, Hollywood has regularly churned out courtroom thrillers, often adapted from best-selling novels, in which the Perry Mason business of shouting "objection" and springing surprise witnesses mixes with on-the-streets and in-the-bedroom action. The meaninglessly titled Primal Fear, the latest in the line, manages the not inconsiderable feat of being more unlikely than The Client, Just Cause and the upcoming The Juror all rolled into one, offering equal doses of brown-lit gloom and hilarious unbelievability.
Celebrity lawyer Martin Vail (Gere) volunteers to defend Aaron Stempel (Norton), a stuttering street kid accused of the gruesome murder of an archbishop. No sooner have we got over the twist about the archbishop forcing Aaron to take part in videoed sex games than a shrink (Frances McDormand) turns up to diagnose Multiple Personality Disorder, which would be all very well if Vail hadn't already pleaded a straight "Not Guilty" and is unable to switch to a plea of "Not Guilty By Reason Of Insanity". Confused? You will be.
A side effect of all these lawyer thrillers, not to mention years of LA Law and Murder One, is that the audience now knows as much about the American legal system as a highly paid attorney and is qualified to rip to shreds the failings of a plot like this. If you saw My Cousin Vinny, you'll know about the Right Of Disclosure, which is repeatedly violated by both sides of the case in Primal Fear as an excuse to toss in more surprises.
Gere broods in sharp suits, seeming more like a sufferer of extreme constipation than moral angst, while everyone else (especially newcomer Norton) chews carpet. The final contrivance is likeably insane, but does little to redeem the turgid set-up. It has a decent cast and a promising first-time director in Hoblit, a mainstay of Hill Street Blues and NYPD Blue, but the script should be thrown out of court and into a bin.
