Le témoin du troisième jour

The Third Day which is a nice suspenseful film, modeled somewhat on the Gregory Peck classic Mirage which is about an amnesia victim has George Peppard as the protagonist amnesia victim. It is both the debut film of Sally Kellerman and the farewell performance of Herbert Marshall.

It was quite a debut for Kellerman, she's seen only in flashback as a pleasure driven hedonist who is killed in automobile accident as the car they were driving in went off the road and into the Pacific Ocean. Peppard survives the crash, but it's left him an amnesiac and he struggles to pick up the pieces of his life.

Turns out he's married to the wealthy and socially prominent Elizabeth Ashley as he was then in real life and it was a case of marrying the boss's daughter as Peppard was in middle management of the town's main employer, a ceramics factory. But he's been driven from her and Kellerman has been more than willing to meet Peppard's needs. Ashley also has an upper crust twit brother in Roddy McDowell who's got an agenda all worked out for Peppard and that factory. McDowell and Kellerman are the best ones in the film.

Liz and Roddy's parents are Mona Washburne and Herbert Marshall. What was sad in this film was that Marshall spoke not a word and I wonder if his part was written that way because of his own health problems. He plays a stroke victim and he's catatonic. Because of that a lot of people like McDowell are playing all kinds of games with the business he is the head of. There's also a really ambitious new District Attorney played by Robert Webber who would like nothing better than to nail a prominent hide like Peppard's as that boost him to higher office.

It takes three days to finally sort all the pieces out hence the title The Third Day. It's a pretty good suspense drama that the cast does full justice to.

Adaptation of Joseph Hayes' book about a "buffoon" who survives a horrible car crash but with amnesia; he's unsure of his wealth and position, which his wife's elderly aunt is happy to fill him in on (she acts like a scorecard for the confused man as well as the audience). Turns out he's a wealthy, ruthless boozer who holds the financial fate of a Northern California city's residents in his hands, being the owner of the local factory that he's considering selling off. He also had a woman in the car with him the day he drove off a mountain road, and if she dies he could be tried for homicide. Well-dressed but corny melodrama tries too hard to raise chills, such as when George Peppard sees something that jars his memory and Percy Faith's overly-fancy music swells up on the soundtrack like in a Hitchcock thriller. Roddy McDowall steals scenes as a nefarious relative (he's such a brittle prig, you half expect him to crack after Elizabeth Ashley slaps him). In her movie debut, Sally Kellerman has a showy flashback role, and Arte Johnson (pre-"Laugh-In") surprises with a serious performance as an unbalanced lounge pianist. The plot is slackly-handled by director Jack Smight. Under better circumstances, this might have been an exciting potboiler; as it is, the film's posh décor upstages the dull, soapy contrivances. *1/2 from ****

... in which the hero (Peppard) escapes from a car wreck and is suffering from the effects of amnesia. He soon realizes that he is a wealthy man who is involved in the possible sale of his company.

His father-in-law handed it over to him. He didn't give it to his son, who is an officer of the company and he has just been stricken with a full-on stroke. Will George Peppard manage to hold on to the company? Everbody seems to regard his amnesia as "a headache" that will go away. And what is the mystery of the car wreck, which has produced a dead female?

This poor excuse for a thriller generates very little suspense or excitement. And the device of weaving the dead woman (Sally Kellerman) into the action in order to fill in story gaps is bizarre, to say the least. Peppard and Ashley were fashioning themselves as a great screen team. But, unfortunately, it did not work out. The magic of their work in "The Carpetbaggers" has eluded them.

What caught my eye in this film is the last few sequences – which include a long chase along the Russian River in northern California. The rear projection looks feeble today – but that is the way it was in 1965. Arte Johnson is miscast – and that is underscored when, at the end of the chase, he and George Peppard haul out the fisticuffs in the surf. That final scene was filmed on the beach at Goat Rock State Park – just south of Jenner, California.

Steve Mallory (George Peppard) climbs out of the river and stumbles into a bar. He has no memories, not even his name but everybody seems to know him. Apparently, he had a car accident. He has to figure out the family relations and the mysterious situation.

For this to work, one must be compelled by Peppard's character. It certainly starts off with good intrigue but soon, there is an avalanche of confusing connections and relationships. I stop trying to figure out what's going on. It would have been useful for him to be paired with an informative companion. One expected him to start investigating the girl from the crash a lot earlier. I do like the premise but I lost interest over time.