After a lonely housewife gets herself slashed up with a straight-razor on her way back to recover her wedding ring from the apartment of a daytime tryst with a stranger, a prostitute witness to the murder must find the killer to prove her own innocence before the killer finds her. Etc. etc. Schlocky 80s thriller , light on acting and plot and overly-heavy on stylistic devices (lightning flashes light up the hidden killer; cold blue-lit sterile luny-bin nutjobbery; sparkly lights unnecessarily twinkling from doorknobs turned slowly by a killer-hand; irritating clever split screen merges two separate scenes so that the dialogue from either is hard to catch, until wow! magic! both characters in the different scenes are watching the same TV show!).
While the film itself is not great, it’s truly dragged down the chute by the fact that its treatment of the trangender character is, let’s put it mildly, somewhat problematic when examined with any sort of critical eye.