Sometimes the only thing worse than a sex-themed movie made by stupid people is a sex-themed movie made by smart people. While stupid movies about sex can often be counted on for unintentional laughs (Color Of Night, anyone?), smart movies about sex are more often ponderous, pretentious, moralistic bores that bring out the worst, most self-indulgent instincts in otherwise sturdy filmmakers. The latest film from husband-and-wife team Philip and Belinda Haas (The Music Of Chance, Angels And Insects) is hardly a Henry & June-level embarrassment, but its take on the dangers of sexual transgression still feels far too familiar to wield much impact. Charles Dance and Sheryl Lee star as a sexually adventurous couple living an idyllic life in a utopian Latin American town; there, they come across a more sexually conservative couple (Laila Robins and Colin Lane) and immediately take a more-than-friendly interest in them. Set in 1970, when the promise of the '60s had already begun to mutate into a pounding socio-sexual hangover, The Blood Oranges is both gorgeous to look at and effectively acted, but it's also the weakest of the Haases' three non-documentary films. Like most movies about people pushing the boundaries of marriage and monogamy, it has little more to say than that disobeying the laws of sexual fidelity will result in terrible punishment. The Blood Oranges isn't the least bit erotic, which is appropriate considering that it's less about passion than the costs of passion, always exponentially more severe than the transgressions they punish.