This ropey old seventies schlock turns up as a late nighter ever so often. In an attempt to open up the series for the 'big' (snigger) screen, the makers involved Regan and Carter in a 'big' plot involving government MP's and big business, namely oil barons who will stop at nothing, even dodgy hitmen, to achieve their sinister aims. The result is uncomfortable and frequently risible viewing. The film making is curiously sloppy. Regan and Carter start the film off with a bang by plunging headfirst into self parody by waking up late and drunk with air hostesses draped all over their couch (not that they live together, they're not like THAT). These men are macho, right? They abuse their positions by diverting police vehicles to give their girlfriends lifts to work and have no qualms about drink driving, so SHUT IT! After rolling around the pavements with bear guts and clothes awry, they arrive at Scotland Yard just in time for a bit of far fetched gratuitous violence against a bunch of blaggers (armed robbers, for our cousins across the pond).
The funniest performance comes from Barry Foster who, replete with outrageously bogus American accent, plays a blackmailing personal secretary to a government minister who is also into extortion, prostituition and murder. You know, the usual CV. He spends the entire film trying to keep a low profile with his involvement in OPEC dealings in high places by drawing as little attention to himself as possible. He achieves this by sending out two of the most hilariously conspicuous hitmen you've ever seen who run around London with a submachine and bombs wearing a series of very obvious disguises, not least the highly risky impersonation of police officers. A text book discreet hit? How about machine gunning three villains to death in broad daylight in a scrap yard. One of the villains, who suspects a conspiracy behind his girlfriends murder, we are led to believe was not even slightly suspicious of two maniacal police officers holding a machine gun in a plastic bag making unlikely enquiries. You could excuse this heavy handed slaughter as an attempt to make the murders look like a gangland execution. Trouble is, they maintain the same gobsmacking "hello-BANG!-here we are" strategy for the rest of the film. Later on one of the hitmen poses as a window cleaner to plant a bomb in the office of a newspaper reporter. He is seen very obviously handling a suspicious package practically under the nose of actor Colin Weiland (the hitmen are coming! The hitmen are coming!) and then takes out the detonator box while still walking across an office filled with secretaries. Yup, call in the professionals. Not surprisingly he is nearly busted. Later, in another subtle attempt not to draw attention to themselves, the hitmen load a submachine gun on the fire escape of a hotel in broad daylight and then fill a room with lead. In the ensuing chase to kill Regan and actress Dianne Keen (curiously miscast as a call girl) they then shoot dead a bobby on the beat so as not to create a stir in the tv and press. Unsurprisingly, with help like this Barry Foster is doomed to a sticky end which Carter blames his boss Regan for, in a would-be controversial freeze frame ending. LEAVE IT OUT George, those hitman almost shot you to death in a fracas outside your apartment block...so SHUT IT!
The budget on this film seems no higher than the series and affords a few cheesy and tacky kipper tie laughs if you're in the mood for some nostalgia. If not, then I'LL give you a RIGHT SPANKING!
