Another 9 1/2 Weeks: Why the Mickey Rourke Sequel Failed to Spark

Another 9 1/2 Weeks: Why the Mickey Rourke Sequel Failed to Spark

Hollywood has a weird obsession with lightning. Specifically, trying to catch it twice in the same bottle. Usually, they just end up with a wet jar and a disappointed audience. That’s exactly what happened with Another 9 1/2 Weeks, the 1997 follow-up to the cultural phenomenon that defined 1980s eroticism.

If you grew up in the late 90s, you might remember seeing this at a Blockbuster. It sat there on the shelf, looking a bit dusty, with Mickey Rourke’s face staring out from the cover. It wasn't the same Mickey, though. The boyish, dangerous charm of the first film had been replaced by something heavier, more weathered. It’s a movie that exists in a strange limbo. It isn't quite a reboot, not exactly a direct continuation, but a moody, European-flavored attempt to reclaim a vibe that had already moved on.

Most people don't even realize there was a sequel. Honestly? There's a reason for that.

What Another 9 1/2 Weeks Actually Is

Let's clear up the naming convention first because it’s a mess. Depending on where you live or which bargain bin you found it in, this movie is either called Another 9 1/2 Weeks or Love in Paris. It was directed by Anne Goursaud, who—fun fact—was actually the editor on the original 1986 film. You'd think that would mean she’d have a handle on the visual language of the series. To be fair, she does. The film looks expensive. It looks lush. But it feels hollow.

The plot picks up ten years after the original. Mickey Rourke returns as John Gray. He’s a broken man. He’s obsessed. He’s still hunting for Elizabeth, the woman played by Kim Basinger who famously walked away at the end of the first movie. He goes to Paris because he hears she’s there. He finds a fashion designer named Lea (played by Angie Everhart) instead.

Lea was Elizabeth’s friend. Or so she says.

What follows is a slow, often agonizingly stylized attempt to recreate the power dynamics of the first film. But the context is all wrong. In 1986, the original was groundbreaking because it felt like a high-art take on taboo subjects. By 1997, we’d already had Basic Instinct. We’d had Showgirls. The world had changed, and John Gray’s scarves and moody stares felt a bit... dated.

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The Mickey Rourke Factor

You can't talk about Another 9 1/2 Weeks without talking about Mickey Rourke’s face. It is, quite literally, a different landscape. Between the two films, Rourke had left acting to pursue a professional boxing career. He took a lot of punishment. He had reconstructive surgery. The man who appears in the sequel is a ghost of the man from the original.

There’s a poignant sadness to his performance. You can see he’s trying. He brings a genuine sense of loss to the role of John. He’s not playing a sexy manipulator anymore; he’s playing a guy who realized too late that he ruined the best thing he ever had. Rourke has admitted in various interviews over the years that he did a lot of movies in the 90s just for the paycheck. He was "phoning it in" in his own words for much of that decade. Yet, in this film, there’s a flicker of something real. It’s just buried under a lot of questionable 90s fashion and soft-focus lighting.

Why Kim Basinger Said No

Everyone asks this. Why isn't she in it?

Basinger’s career was in a very different place by 1997. She was about to win an Oscar for L.A. Confidential. The original 1986 shoot was notoriously difficult for her. Director Adrian Lyne reportedly used psychological tactics to keep her on edge, wanting to capture real isolation and fear. It worked for the movie, but it wasn't an experience she was dying to repeat.

The sequel tries to compensate for her absence by making her a literal "ghost" in the machine. Lea wears Elizabeth's old clothes. She talks about her. The movie uses her as a MacGuffin. It’s a classic sequel trope: if you can't get the star, make the whole movie about looking for the star. It rarely works. It makes the new lead, Angie Everhart, feel like a placeholder, which isn't really fair to her. She does what she can with a script that requires her to be an enigma rather than a person.

The Problem With Erotic Sequels

Eroticism is about tension. It’s about the unknown. Once you’ve seen the "9 1/2 weeks" of a relationship, the mystery is gone.

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The 1986 film worked because it was a self-contained descent into an unhealthy obsession. It had a beginning, a middle, and a very definitive "I’m leaving" end. By bringing John Gray back, the sequel undoes the weight of that ending. It turns a tragedy into a habit.

  • The original felt like a dangerous secret.
  • The sequel feels like a long music video.
  • The original had a soundtrack that defined an era (Joe Cocker, Bryan Ferry).
  • The sequel has a soundtrack that feels like it’s trying way too hard to be "cool."

Paris is a beautiful backdrop. Goursaud uses the city well. The architecture, the rain-slicked streets, the ateliers—it all looks great. But the chemistry is missing. Rourke and Everhart don't have that magnetic, uncomfortable friction that Rourke and Basinger had. It’s more like two people posing for a photoshoot.

The Critical Reception and Direct-to-Video Fate

Most critics weren't kind. If they noticed it at all. In the United States, it didn't even get a proper theatrical release; it went straight to video. In Europe, it fared slightly better because, well, Europe has always had a softer spot for Rourke and for moody erotic dramas.

The consensus was basically: "Why?"

There wasn't a demand for a sequel. The story was told. When you look at the 90s landscape, erotic thrillers were becoming a parody of themselves. Films like Jade or Sliver had already pushed the "glossy but empty" aesthetic to its limit. Another 9 1/2 Weeks just felt like a late arrival to a party that was already over.

Production Trivia and Reality

Despite the negative reputation, there are some interesting bits of film history attached to this production.

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It was filmed mostly in Vienna and Paris. The production design was actually quite high-end. They used real locations that gave it a sense of scale that most direct-to-video sequels lacked. There’s also the presence of Dougray Scott, a solid actor who would later almost be Wolverine (before Hugh Jackman took the role). Seeing him in this is a reminder of how many talented people pass through these "cash-in" sequels on their way to something else.

Also, it’s worth noting that the film exists in several different cuts. Depending on which version you see, the ending feels slightly different. The international version is often a bit longer, lingering more on the "atmosphere" than the North American edit.

Is It Worth a Watch Today?

Look, if you’re a Mickey Rourke completist, you’ve probably already seen it. If you haven't, it’s a fascinating time capsule. It shows a transition point in his life and career. He’s stuck between the "pretty boy" of the 80s and the "bruiser" of The Wrestler.

If you’re looking for a deep, meaningful exploration of love and loss? This isn't it.

If you want a visual feast of 90s Parisian aesthetics and you don't mind a plot that moves at the speed of melting brie, then sure. It’s a mood. It’s not a great movie, but it’s a specific kind of late-night-TV experience.

Actionable Steps for the Curious

If you're planning on diving into this franchise or just want to understand why it holds a weird spot in cinema history, here's how to approach it:

  1. Watch the 1986 Original First: Seriously. You need the context of John Gray at his peak to understand the tragedy of him in the sequel.
  2. Compare the Direction: Pay attention to how Anne Goursaud (as a female director) handles the gaze compared to Adrian Lyne. There’s an argument to be made that the sequel is slightly less "voyeuristic" and more "romanticized," for better or worse.
  3. Track Rourke’s Evolution: If you watch 9 1/2 Weeks, then Another 9 1/2 Weeks, then The Wrestler, you see one of the most incredible physical and emotional arcs in acting history.
  4. Ignore the Third Movie: Yes, there is a third one called The First 9 1/2 Weeks. It doesn't feature Rourke. It’s a prequel. It’s generally considered best to skip it entirely unless you’re doing a marathon for research purposes.
  5. Check the Soundtrack: Even if the movie misses the mark, the music choices in this era of filmmaking are always an interesting study in what producers thought "sexy" sounded like in 1997.

Another 9 1/2 Weeks serves as a cautionary tale about sequels that try to recreate a feeling rather than tell a new story. It’s a beautiful, flawed, and largely forgotten piece of 90s cinema that proves some things are better left in the past. Or at least, left as they were when the credits first rolled in 1986.