The Smile of the Fox (1992)

What makes The Smile of the Fox special is the way Sergio Martino turns a familiar hitman setup into something sleek, feverish, and strangely melancholy—an erotic thriller that’s as much about longing and regret as it is about danger. The film practically glows with nocturnal atmosphere, using Buenos Aires apartments, balconies, and shadows to create a voyeuristic tension that feels intimate rather than merely lurid, anchored by Debora Caprioglio’s magnetic, fearless presence. It moves with the confidence of a genre veteran, letting sensuality and suspense feed each other until you’re not sure whether you’re watching a romance curdle into a trap or a revenge story trying to pass for love. Fair warning: if explicit sexuality is a dealbreaker, it won’t be for you—but if you want a visually striking, grown-up thriller with heat, mood, and a lingering aftertaste, this one earns your attention.

The Smile of the Fox wants to be a sleek, steamy revenge thriller where a damaged hitman and a dangerous woman spiral into betrayal and payback, and you can see the bones of a pulpy noir in there. The problem is it often mistakes erotic heat for momentum, so the pacing drifts, the story feels thin, and the “twists” tend to land as things you saw coming from a mile away. Action and tension are pretty mild, and the performances won’t convince you to ignore the clunky writing if you’re already on the fence. If you’re mainly here for early-90s Euro-erotic thriller vibes and glossy sleaze, you might have a decent time; if you want a sharp, tightly plotted thriller with real suspense, this likely isn’t it.