Hilariously contrived and utterly compelling, Black Widow is always worth a re-viewing when the video shelves are dry. It's beautifully filmed, competently acted, and contains some of the most rousingly misguided plot twists known to this cinephile.
No spoilers here, but the ending is a knee-slapper, as is the otherwise quite capable Theresa Russell's foray into a southern belle accent. It's all very slick, but in a good way, with the considerable lily gilded by attempts at intellectualizing a movie which could be refilmed with startlingly few changes for a Cinemax Late Night soft-core extravaganza. Kudos to Russell, of course, Winger, James Hong and Mary Woronov just for being Mary Woronov for at least one scene; it's just a shame that a movie which makes a stab at well-rounded female characters (at the very least by making the male characters so weak [truth is, I can scarcely remember the names of any of the male characters] that one cannot help but invest all subjectivity with the female characters) operates under the notion that the Debra Winger character discovers her womanhood vicariously through the exploits of the sensuous, if surprisingly (in context) asexual, man-killer Russell, which is not exactly the most progressive notion. Essential viewing nonetheless.