Disclosure Review

The idea that sexual harassment is about power, not sex, and that a woman in power can potentially misbehave just like a man may be news to certain segments of the population, but they are not news enough to light a much-needed fire under this production. [9 Dec 1994, p.1]

Disclosure contains an inspiring terrific shot of Demi Moore's cleavage in a Wonderbra, surrounded by 125 minutes of pure goofiness leading up to, and resulting from, this moment.

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Disclosure is pure and simple trash masquerading as significance. [9 Dec 1994, p.B]

Disclosure should slickly satisfy people who like movies about advanced computers, topical themes, hardball attorney mind games, office politics, sex and sweet revenge. [9 Dec 1994, p.1D]

Disclosure is polite pulp fiction, a reasonable rendition of potentially risible material. This lavishly appointed screen version of Michael Crichton's page-turner about sexual harassment and corporate power has what it takes to deliver plenty of year-end bounty into Warner Bros.' coffers, although it might have been even more commercial had it been more shamelessly trashy.

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Dramatically, Disclosure isn't especially potent, but it isn't drama that Crichton and Levinson are striving for. On its own terms -- the fear of lost security that many thrillers prey upon -- Disclosure works, and that's all that anyone can reasionably ask from this kind of motion picture.

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The movie, like the book, is a work of opportunistic gamesmanship, a luridly farfetched conspiracy thriller masquerading as an inquiry into the zeitgeist. You can't take Disclosure very seriously, yet the film has been made with cleverness and skill, and with a keen eye for the latest styles in corporate paranoia and ruthlessness.

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