Oh, what a dreadful, dreadful film this is. What a flimsy little strip of celluloid offal. Let me tell you about it, hmmm?
Liquid Sky is about a set of twins, one boy, one girl, both played by the same woman. The female is abducted by aliens one fine night, and from that point on, everyone she has sex with, and there's plenty, just plain disappears, right then, right there. Poof! Gone. And it's not just for the fellas, she makes women disappear, too, with her own little Lap-top disintegrator. She even vaporizes her own she-male brother, which, since it's the same actress, calls for some tricky camera work for the big moment. As my old friend Velma would say: "Jinkies, Fred!"
Anyway, I don't really remember how it ends, except that it maybe involves this big mutha of a mutha-ship, because I was, by then, a broken man. I would say it was a parable about the AIDS crisis, but I think that's giving credit where it is not due. I think is was just some raving twisty's vision of the perfect girl: one who puts out, isn't afraid of playing dress-up, and won't ask you to call them next week, because you've been reduced to a fine mist.
"So," you say, "That sounds like maybe it could be ok...it has sex in it, right?" Beware, my salacious simian. Any possible jollies you could pull from this art-house nasty are entirely negated by the maddeningly incomprehensible script, the dyed-in-the-wool bad acting, and the utterly bonko synth-pop score.
Having said that, I must admit this. I saw this movie once, well over ten years ago, and it has hung with me ever since. So it is at least an event that cannot be forgotten, like say, perhaps, being mugged or passing a kidney stone.