Some movies lend themselves less to sequels than others, and Romancing the Stone, a real-life romance visited upon a mousy romancer, would appear to be one of the "some." Unaccountably, the heroine's earlier adventure in South America has left her with a weakened belief in romance. Discontented with her current novel of flashing swords and balloon sleeves, she accepts an invitation to do a profile on a North African politician and quasi-Mahdi ("To write a biography, something important, something real -- this is what I've been looking for!"), and in the result she comes all too close to those journalists engages of The Year of Living Dangerously and Under Fire and whatnot. She remains, however, as credulous, as naive, as unimaginative as if her earlier adventure (not to mention her earlier novels) had never happened. Experience must not be such a good teacher after all. Or must vary from student to student. For all that, Kathleen Turner is still every bit as engaging (and as flatteringly photographed) in the role, and Michael Douglas, because he doesn't have to take any steps backwards, is even more so. But let's please say goodbye to "Joan Wilder" and "Jack Colton." Directed by Lewis Teague. (1985) — Duncan Shepherd
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