A project with potential is ruined by the smug, smart-alecky script by Cash Markman, whose name in the credits is always a warning signal of crap to come.
It's film noir time, with Randy West comfortable in the standard hard-boiled private eye role, telling us the story in a series of flashbacks. The structure is overly contrived, all to facilitate Cash's attempt at a "clever" surprise ending. It's definitely a surprise, but utterly stupid. Dear Mr. Cushman: you think your viewers are idiots merely because they enjoy watching porn -but the joke's on you.
Central MacGuffin in this story is a little bottle containing a potion that sustains youth -quest to obtain possession of that bottle is driven by vanity, the movie's title. The bottle changes hands a few times -that makes the story flow. I was singularly unimpressed/unhappy when West hands over the mysterious object (when we first see it on screen) wrapped in a folded newspaper -hardly a proper unveiling of such a Maltese Falcon treasure.
People are willing to scheme and even kill to get that bottle, as the formula for the liquid has been lost -the single bottle's contents are all that exist.
Among the possessors of the potion are T. T. Boy and his wife Melanie Moore, both of whom are clients (separately) of West's. Also the husband-wife team of Eric Price and Paula Price, who enjoy delivering Cash's ridiculous dialogue in unsympathetic roles.
Story resolution has West, a very unscrupulous character, getting the last laugh. Too bad it isn't funny.
