Try as the actors might, the only authentic performances in Midwest Obsession (1995) are those of its farm animals. That is the fault of the screenplay primarily, but I also blame the director, the producers, and possibly even society. (Were viewers not the ones demanding an endless supply of grisly movies-of-the-week during this era?) It must have been demoralizing heading to the set each day, trying to will a story this grim into existence.
We begin with a murder in a parking lot. The editing is abrupt and unsatisfying, leaving you less frightened than confused. The lighting doesn’t help; several scenes are too dark to fully keep track of what’s happening. It’s a problem that intensifies as the story unfolds. When our murderess loses control of herself, as happens now and then, the distorted shots and frenetic cuts are more suggestive of a Soundgarden music video than a movie. (The film’s fashions also aged poorly, which some of you might enjoy. If you’re in that camp, check out Gabrielle Carteris in Seduced and Betrayed, also from ’95.)
Next we meet Cheryl (Courtney Thorne-Smith). We can tell she’s unstable and prone to violence because she’s dresed similarly to Mayim Bialik in Blossom. (Those hats were a blight on the ’90s, and also appear in Death of a Cheerleader, a similar film that boasted a better cast.) She bats her eyelashes as a podunk admirer tells her she’s the prettiest girl in the state. “I didn’t used to be pretty,” she says with feigned shyness. “I was always more into sports. So trophies were more important than boys.” As we’re soon to be reminded, boys themselves are sometimes trophies for a certain kind of girl.
When her companion gets too grabby, she fights him off and they stumble onto an isolated road. A floppy-haired Good Samaritan in a battered pickup comes to her rescue. Kevin (Kyle Secor of Homicide: Life on the Streets) teaches the creep a lesson and offers Cheryl a ride. There’s not much to say about Kevin, other than he’s exceptionally dumb. He wears no objectionable hats, preferring flannel shirts and John Denver costumes. He thinks Cheryl looks familiar, much to her delight.
“You’ve probably seen my picture in the paper. I’m the Dairy Princess. The beauty contest?” she asks. But he recognizes her from her past as a medal-winning gymnast. This is one of the earliest moments when the dialogue goes completely off the rails. “You used to be quite a tomboy then, but, boy, look at you now!” he enthuses, as if gymnasts aren’t generally hyper-feminine. “Guess I grew up,” she flirts as viewers groan.
Her father’s a landowner; Kevin’s a farmer. Freudian theory dictates she develop an immediate romantic fixation on him despite his stunning vacuousness. “Well, that’s the way things work out sometimes,” she says pleasantly when he explains he has a girlfriend, Beth. (She is played by Tracey Gold, who was also put through the wringer in Lady Killer that year.) But she lies to friends about their instant, mutual attraction: “It was so romantic! I mean, you could just feel the electricity between us.”
When she conveniently runs into Kevin and Beth at their favorite pool hall, she does little to mask her intentions. During a contentious meeting in the ladies’ room, Cheryl mentions they went to school together. She cannot believe that Beth has no memory of her. “Oh, yeah, wasn’t that the year that I was class president?” Beth asks coolly, before going in for the kill: “Still shaking your pom-poms, I see.”
“Those who got ’em, shake ’em,” Cheryl replies bitchily, adjusting her bra in the mirror. Of Beth’s two-year relationship with Kevin, she notes “Still not engaged.” And then she vividly fantasizes about killing Beth, who is primping in the mirror. Rather than act on the impulse, she commits a different sort of violence and chirps “That is a great eyeliner! The same color my grandma wears.”
Sadly, that’s the extent of Midwest Obsession‘s catty humor. From there we hopscotch from one tired bunny boiler trope to the next, all rooted in Cheryl’s relationship with her father. He’s been withdrawn since the death of her mother, causing her to seek validation elsewhere. “Daddy, I’m your daughter and you never even look at me,” she pleads ominously. By the time he expresses his love and paternal pride, several characters standing between the Dairy Princess and the object of her affection have been slaughtered. So, too, has our patience.
“Wasn’t once enough?” I cried in anguish when, 84 minutes into the movie, prior to its unintentionally hilarious conclusion, we’re treated to a flashback montage of Cheryl’s greatest hits. It runs 40 seconds or so in length but feels like an eternity. There are a handful of funny things you’ll encounter here if you’re brave enough to try. There’s the pink Dairy Princess convertible Cheryl drives, with its Holstein cow-patterned interior, and the telltale cow-themed earring that ties her to a crime scene. I also laughed at Cheryl flinging herself around an Airstream trailer despairingly when she didn’t get her way. It’s easy to imagine Thorne-Smith recreating those scenes in her trailer between scenes, after screaming at her agent on the phone.
Streaming and DVD availability
Midwest Obsession is available on DVD and currently streams for free (with ads) on Amazon. Its alternate title was Beauty’s Revenge.
Disclosure: As an Amazon Associate I earn a small commission from qualifying purchases.
… But wait, there’s more!
Several times over the last few months I scrolled right past this movie when looking for something to watch. (When my dog was sick and I was up with her at night, I saw enough of Thorne-Smith in Crepe Erase ads to last a lifetime.) It was an old, strange IMDb user review that made me reconsider.
Midwest Obsession is not a movie that seemed even slightly sexy, so I suspected his overheated critique was comically detached from reality. Sure enough, Thorne-Smith was in her underwear for about a nanosecond in the version I saw. Glancing at more of his (many) reviews, I quickly discovered he’s the Pauline Kael of Playboy videos, which sounds about right. The geographical details in his Deadly Desire review were also interesting and unsettling.
Cranky Lesbian is a disgruntled homosexual with too much time on her hands. Click for film reviews or to follow on Instagram.
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