There's something about Venice that invites freaky behavior I suppose. Maybe it's the proximity to the water. Like New Orleans. Barbet Schroeder's The Comfort of Strangers makes excellent use of Venice's unique atmosphere and throws a little Walken into the mix. The story follows a young couple on holiday there. They get lost, encounter a wealthy man about town (Walken), and end up palling around with him a bit. He's alternately nice (letting them stay in his house) and cruel (punching poor Rupert Everett in the stomach), and ultimately things turn tragic. I won't pretend that the film makes a lick of sense, but it sure is fun to watch.