6. Body Heat (1981) 363i4l
This underrated neo-noir from Lawrence Kasdan brought the erotic thriller roaring into the ’80s and cemented Kathleen Turner’s place in the pantheon of all-time great femme fatales.
William Hurt plays a sleazy Florida lawyer drawn into a web of lust and murder, in a film that wears its Double Indemnity (1944) influences proudly on its sleeve.
The chemistry between Hurt and Turner is electric, and the humid, haze-filled cinematography makes the whole thing feel like an erotically charged dreamscape. But beyond the sex and sizzle, Body Heat is a smart, sharply written thriller about greed, manipulation, and a warning to the blindness of seduction.
Still criminally under-seen, and far more than just steamy sex scenes, Body Heat often feels like the erotic thriller Brian De Palma never quite made.
7. Fear City (1984)
Abel Ferrara is often ed as the man who brought us Driller Killer (1979), one of the classic video nasties of the period, nailing his place in film history.
Fear City is an excellent example of his directorial progress post-Driller Killer and it’s easy to see influence on his own future work in Bad Lieutenant (1992) here; but also more mainstream work by other directors, most notably Jonathan Demme’s Silence of the Lambs (1991).
This sleazy, neon-lit thriller unfolds in a version of New York that’s halfway between a nightmare and a bad dream you don’t want to wake up from. Tom Berenger plays a disgraced boxer turned bodyguard investigating a series of brutal attacks on exotic dancers, while Billy Dee Williams shows up as a hard-nosed detective determined to crack the case.
Fear City, whilst perhaps not Ferrera’s best work, is a much more important and impressive piece than it’s given credit for. Its depiction of Manhattan’s seedy, dank, and neon underbellywhilst scratchy and unforgiving, adds an authentic feel to Ferrera’s world building,
Frequently dismissed as exploitation cinema, Fear City is far more interesting than that, exploring themes of masculinity, guilt, and urban decay, resulting in one of the most underappreciated thrillers of the eighties.
8. Sea of Love (1989)
Before Basic Instinct made erotic thrillers fully fashionable, there was Sea of Love, a moody, romantic crime story that gave Al Pacino one of his most vulnerable roles. He plays a burnt-out New York detective investigating a string of murders linked to lonely hearts ads, and finds himself falling for a woman (Ellen Barkin) who may or may not be the killer.
The most obvious comparison is probably Fatal Attraction (1987), but this is far less hysterical than Glenn Close’s bunny boiling antics. Directed by Harold Becker, the film balances steamy romance with genuine tension, and Barkin is phenomenal—enigmatic, sensual, and just dangerous enough to keep you second-guessing.
This is less an erotic thriller and more of a neo-noir crime tale, complete with shots of bright neon lightning against low-key lit cityscapes. Pacino dials it down, and the result is one of his most underrated performances. Sea of Love is a slow-burn thriller that never got the attention it deserved, and is more than worth your time.
9. Presumed Innocent (1990)
Alan J. Pakula’s Presumed Innocent is a moody, methodical legal thriller that doesn’t get talked about enough. Harrison Ford plays Rusty Sabich, a prosecutor investigating a murder who finds himself accused of the crime. What follows is less about solving the case than watching the system quietly dismantle him.
Ford gives one of his most restrained performances, haunted and defensive, while Pakula builds the tension with clinical precision. It’s not a twisty thriller in the conventional sense, the revelations arrive slowly, without fanfare, and hit all the harder for it. Cold, compelling, and full of moral unease, it’s a gripping descent into doubt and obsession, and at times feels like the anti-Fugitive; despite the fact it’s Ford as the accused innocent man once more, this is more psychological and would work terrifically with Andrew Davis’ thriller.
10. Sonatine (1993)
Takeshi Kitano, or Beat Takeshi if you prefer, is a big name in Japanese cinema. Perhaps more widely known for Boiling Point (1990), Takeshi’s fourth feature, Sonatine, was initially poorly received in Japan but fared slightly better in Europe, premiering at the Cannes film festival.
Centering around a yakuza, Murakawa (a truly astonishing performance from Takeshi Kitano) who is sent to Okinawa by his boss to settle a dispute between two clans, Sonatine is an anti-gangster picture, forgoing ultra violence for human emotion and existential dread, things that can be gleaned from Kitano’s facial expressions throughout the film, such is the efficacy of his display.
That’s not to say there isn’t violence; when it arrives it’s swift and unflinching, but pitching these scenes at rare intervals across an otherwise minimalist and truly odd yakuza film, only serves to make Sonatine an even more intriguing and exceptional piece of film making.
Takeshi’s film is also frequently amusing, allowing you to fully believe in the well rounded characters. The scenes when they’re laughing and seemingly happy are even more authentic when placed against the background of the hopeless situation they find themselves in.
Sonatine focuses on the nothing of the yakuza life in between the violence, a decision that, far from making the film a dull experience, pushes it into the realms of a masterpiece, and without doubt, one of the best (anti) gangster films ever made.