This film got spanked righteously in the press and Demi Moore, leading lady, earned a Golden Raspberry (not a compliment) for starring in it.
But was this film as bad as the critics made it out to be? I certainly don't think so. While it is true the dialog was somewhat mundane and the leading men unsexy, the film really seemed to focus on the question of "what is reality?"
The premise of a woman who fragments her personality in her dreams to the point of psychotic delusion is fascinating. Fully functional when awake in either world, at first it is hard to tell which woman, New York Marty or Provence Marie, is the "real" one. But the director carefully controls the colors and temperature of the light. At first, Provence is sunny, warm and misty, New York is blue and cold. Even the skin tones of the actors change with the venue. But as Marty/Marie begins to integrate her personality, the colors shift in the cinematography. Moore is careful not to overact--her Marie or Marty is rather equivocal in her madness or sane-ness. Perhaps the critics wanted more ravings from her.
This is a cerebral film; no mad fugues with wild yelling and screaming and blood and guts. Instead, you have to see if you can psychoanalyse the fragmented mind of Marty/Marie and come up with a plausible explanation. If you get it right, you meet the end of the film with cries of "Ha, I knew it!" If you don't get it right, you get a pleasurable surprise. Either way, a fascinating psychological drama and well worth viewing.