One could say "Traces of Red" is implausible. But that's a bit like saying King Kong is a big ape. It's true but it doesn't come close to telling you how extreme the situation really is.
First of all, there's the casting: James Belushi as a tough homicide detective in swanky Palm Beach, Fla., where murder seems to be taken for granted. And Lorraine Bracco as a calculating, squeaky-voiced, blonde rich widow. (Remember how good the dark-haired Bracco was in "Someone to Watch Over Me" and "GoodFellas"? And remember how good Belushi was in . . ., um, . . . there must be something.)
Then there's the film's opening scene: Belushi has been shot to death, after which he provides a voiceover narration. This Humphrey Bogart-style gumshoe way of providing us with plot details is just a silly device, of course, but it begins intriguingly, with an aerial shot that allows us to observe Belushi from a heavenly vantage point.
Alas, the ghostly Belushi is nowhere to be seen as most of the picture is a very lengthy flashback, with the detective investigating the serial killings of several local women. All were killed with knives and all had their clothes removed from the scene of the crime before police arrived. And The one thing they all had in common is that they knew Belushi.
In addition, he's getting anonymous letters, which contain threatening rhymes about the murders, some of them referring to murders that have occurred, others offering predictions.
If that's not enough, there's Belushi's relationship with Bracco, who is supposed to be a very dangerous femme fatale but who is actually about as threatening as a tub of margarine. (Sharon Stone has no need to worry about competition here.)
Belushi's partner (Tony Goldwyn) is also on the suspect roster for a time, as are, in turn, Goldwyn's loving wife and Belushi's politician brother. None of these people are suspects because they seem to have any real motivation for the killings so much as because they are tempted by some immoral act.
But then, red herrings abound in this movie — they're everywhere. And most of them simply exist to lead us down a winding road until we get to the very surprising, double-twist ending. You won't see it coming.
Although, considering what you have to go through to get there, when it arrives you may not care.
"Traces of Red" is more concerned with being convoluted than telling an intriguing story or building any tension. The acting is arch, the plotting illogical and by the time that ending arrives, you'll likely be either asleep or gone.
The film is rated R for violence, gore, sex, nudity and profanity, all of it gratuitous.