Les Tueurs de San Francisco

The plot is threadbare, the principals don't really look the part, the pace is much too slow, but this film still has some points of interest.

First, the location work. Plenty of San Francisco footage, though much of it at night (this is film noir, after all). The city looks different now, but many of the setups are in areas that haven't changed too much.

Then there's Anne-Margret, still in her sex-kitten stage but trying hard to break out of it. She's really not up to the mommy part, though she gives it a good try. Her character is about the only sympathetic one in the film, save . . .

Van Heflin's. I've always liked him. He's pretty good as the cop who hounds Delon, though he won't pass for Italian any day of the week, or will Delon, for that matter. It's interesting to contrast this detective with Steve McQueen's Frank Bullit or Clint Eastwood's Harry Callahan. They're all SFPD and only a few years separate their stories, but Heflin's Mike Vido is from another world. Wait until you see who he lives with.

And then there's John David Chandler's homicidal homosexual-child molester, a really nasty characterization you won't encounter today and not often then. Oh yes, he's also a sadist.

Finally, there's Jack Palance's equal opportunity crew: two Italians (though I think their surname is Croatian), a Jew, a Greek, and a Chinese undertaker. Somehow they pull off the heist, though just barely.

Recommended if you enjoy hard-core noir, Anne-Margret, or Heflin, otherwise steer clear.