The Horror Honeys: 'Sliver': A Sliver of Potential, A Shitload of Stabby

'Sliver': A Sliver of Potential, A Shitload of Stabby

A Revenge Honey Erotic Thriller November Review with Linnie

Sliver (1993)

For the first time in my rather extended history of reviewing films, Phillip Noyce's Sliver has left me speechless. Except for one very specific word.



When the credits for Sliver began to roll, this was the word I kept repeating over and over again, with increasing volume, for a solid ten minutes. Then, I fast forwarded the film to see if there was a sneaky end-credits scene, but sadly, this wasn't a thing in 1993. So I rewound the movie to see if perhaps it had skipped over something, but then I remembered I wasn't watching it via DVD or 1993 Blockbuster VHS, so the answer there was a resounding "no" as well.

No, Sliver, written by Joe Eszterhas (who claims he hates the movie, if that tells you anything) is just a movie without an ending. And considering the rest of the movie was no walk through Central Park while staring at Billy Baldwin's ass, I think it's safe to say that Sliver may be my most frustrating film experience this month.

The Story: Carly Norris (Sharon Stone) is a recently-divorced book editor making the kind of money a book editor made in the 90s, so she can afford to move into the Sliver Apartment Building (stupidest name EVER). Never mind that people keep dying in strange ways, that a stalky author keeps creeping on her, or that she keeps finding presents in her apartment from a secret admirer. None of that is enough to stop her from having an affair with the building's owner, a sexy younger man named Zeke (the better Baldwin), who has a room full of 90s state-of-the-art tech for spying on the building's tenants. Is Zeke the killer? Is stalky book guy? Will any of it matter when the movie ends so abruptly, you want to find Phillip Noyce and punch him in the dick?

Does Billy's ass make up for any of it? Eh, a little.
I'll start off by saying, there were parts of Sliver that I didn't hate. Sharon Stone plays completely against type as a mild-mannered, flawed, broken women and I found myself sympathizing with her, which is possibly the first time ever. It was also obvious almost immediately that Stone and Baldwin hated each other, which gives them a kind of reverse chemistry that I'm always a fan of. I also can't deny that the sex scenes are pretty phenomenal. Initially realistic, but then glossy and erotic, Sliver runs the gamut in a way that is as perfectly 90s as you could ask for.

No one looks into this, which I enjoy. Awkward = awesome.
But that is where the fun ends, because Sliver is a weird exercise in epic screenwriting failure. Last minute changes, negative audience screenings, and confusing plot twists all lead to a final product that just makes no sense. And sometimes, I can forgive a movie that doesn't make sense, as long as it ends on a note that makes the shitty experience worth while. You know, like having to drive through Florida to get to Disney World. But the ending to Sliver is so out-of-left-field, so cringeworthy, that you're left making this face:

Did I hate Sliver? No; hate implies a depth of emotion that I don't really feel either way. Sliver is just a thing that happened. It made me angry for a while, it had some good sex scenes, I got to see Billy Baldwin's ass, and now... I can forget it was ever a thing at all.

Throughout Erotic Thriller month, we are going to be working on a far more stringent rating scale than usual. That means that if I REALLY like a film, it will probably get a three star rating. If I love a film, four stars. If I want to take a movie behind the middle school and get it pregnant, that's a five star rating right there. So with that in mind, Sliver gets:

Erotic Thriller Rating: 1 pair of dropped panties out of 5

Sliver is available via iTunes, Amazon Instant Video, YouTube VOD, Google Play, &

Is Billy Baldwin's ass worth all this misery?
Give me your opinion on Twitter: @linnieloowho