After exhausting himself with this feature-length debut, Tourist Trap, director David Schmoeller spent the remainder of his career writing every–yes every–installment in the Puppet Master series. Trust me, regardless of your opinion of the murderous little puppets, this is a good thing because it kept Schmoeller from creeping behind a camera and possibility giving the world another round of cinematic tripe equal to or (get ready for a serious hypothetical) worse than The Seduction.

Now, aside from the trite, yuppie mentality of the film shot during an age when guys had helmets of blow-dried hair split down the center, The Seduction stands as a blatant excuse to put Fairchild, a.k.a. cinematic eye candy, on screen in all her narcissistic glory (at one point she leaves a sauna with her friend, the latter of which is drenched in sweat, her hair dripping wet, as Fairchild stands beside her, dry as a bone, nary a hair out of place) for almost two hours. So, to make this as painless as possible, here’s the tallies:

Number of “Boo” moments: 3.

Number of anorexic lead actresses with manicured fingernails which make their scrawny, elongated digits resemble alien appendages that much more: 1.

Number of scenes with Fairchild nude: 3.

Number of scenes with Fairchild in a state of undress: 2.

Number of extras caught looking directly into the camera: 1.

Number of moralistic diatribes posing as social commentary voiced through a character mouthpiece: 1.

Number of times Fairchild pumps a shotgun even though there is nothing left in the chamber: 3.

Number of minutes closer to death I am as a consequence of having watched The Seduction: 104.

Number of times I will watch The Seduction again: Only if you want me to tell you where my grandmother hides her money.

Trivia tidbit: Frank Capra, Jr., the son of the renowned director, showing none of the aesthetic sensibilities of his father, produced the film.

-Egregious Gurnow