The Assassination Bureau

Back in the mid-'60s, Diana Rigg was probably responsible for jump-starting the puberties of millions of baby boomer boys, thanks to her portrayal of Emma Peel in the hit BBC program "The Avengers." At any rate, along with Anne Francis' turn on "Honey West" and just about every woman in the first five Bond movies, she was certainly responsible for jump-starting mine, and I love watching her in anything she does even today, almost 40 years later. (Seeing her "Medea" on Broadway in 1994 was especially satisfying.) In "The Assassination Bureau" (1969), Diana plays a British (natch) freelance reporter in turn-of-the-century London who infiltrates Oliver Reed's titular organization (a sort of political Murder Inc.) and hires him to put a hit on...himself! Thus starts a series of wild and woolly escapades, as Reed races all over Europe trying to kill his organization's principals, before they can do away with him. We get tongue-in-cheek episodes (filmed all over Europe, and with lavish production values) involving a Parisian brothel, a Swiss bank, the beer halls of Vienna and the canals of Venice, all culminating in a fierce, exciting battle on an airborne, primitive zeppelin, with the fate of the Continent hanging in the balance. The film moves along very briskly and is quite entertaining, and Curt Jergens and Telly Savalas (who starred with Rigg that same year in "On Her Majesty's Secret Service") add delicious supporting performances. Diana, need I say, looks absolutely gorgeous, especially when shown in those frilly undergarment and bathtub scenes. Featuring a literate, witty script and consistently amusing and inventive situations, "The Assassination Bureau" is a real treat indeed. And Diana Rigg's exquisite presence is the yummy icing on an already tasty cake.

In turn of the century London, a female journalist (Diana Rigg) pays for an assasination organisation to assassinate their own leader (Oliver Reed) whom she eventually falls in love with. He in turn bumps off any of his assailants.

Produced and co-written by Michael Relph, this zany big budget comedy is very much of its time with a dark himour that doesn't quite pay off; the comedy is not sharp enough to have a broad appeal or even provide many laughs, but is a fast moving, colourful film (shot by Geoffrey Unsworth) that has plenty to look at.

This film is an enjoyable enough lightweight romp, with an array of locations and actors that is perhaps excessive.

Oliver Reed is suavely bucaneering as the main protaganist, while the other main star, Diana Rigg of Avengers fame, does a very well-judged comic performance as the feminist journalist in 1910. It's a shame she didn't appear in more films. No other actors get much of a chance to shine, as there are far too many minor characters.

The writing is OK; you get the feeling that there should be more laughs than there are. Still, it's an enjoyable enough way to spend an hour and a half.

Rating:- *** (out of *****)

This is the kind of movie made with care and respect for the audience:lavish sets,dazzling costumes,and a very attractive cast including Diana Rigg,Telly Savalas -both teamed for "on her majesty's secret service" the same year-,Philippe Noiret,Curd Jurgens and the sadly missed Oliver Reed.

The screenplay is often full of wit and humor,with such lines as "if there's a war,people will kill each others for a penny,and we will have to shut up shop (our "assassination bureau").Actually the whole movie is a long chase through a chocolate-box Europa with a lot of traps,bombs and disguises.Diana Rigg's appearances run the whole gamut from a Victorian prude resembling Mary Poppins to a femme fatale,from a widow in deep mourning to a nun,she's astonishing.So does (and is )Oliver Reed,who plays some British Arsène Lupin.History is given a rough ride when Francis-Ferdinand is murdered in Vienna (instead of Sarajevo) but who cares?

Best scene:Diana Rigg is alone in her hotel bedroom in Venice,Italy:she can hear a ticking.No,it's not the clock.So she rushes into her bathroom where a tap(faucet) is dripping.But when it's closed,the noise still remains.Is-it a bomb? .The brothel scene where Rigg is mistaken for a hooker is also great fun!

Two movies made in the seventies might have been influenced by Basil Dearden's amusing comedy:Douglas's Hickox's "theater of blood" (1973) also starring Rigg- a treat that should not be missed-and Ted Kotcheff's "who's killing the great chefs of Europe?" (1978)-Jacqueline Bisset cooks a bombe glacée here-.The people who liked this movie could do worse than picking those delightful black comedies.

The big selling point of "The Assassination Bureau" is that it was based on an unfinished novel by Jack London -- "Unfinished" being an euphemism for "abandoned". Long after London's death it was finished by a lesser writer and that version is the basis for this movie.

A superb cast, headed by Oliver Reed and Diana Rigg, is underemployed.

Reed plays the chairman of the Assassination Bureau, Ltd. For a price, the bureau will undertake the homicide of deserving victims. Like a Star Chamber court they weigh each case by their own sense of justice.

Rigg, an enterprising journalist, decides to end the bureau by approaching Reed for a hit. Reed accepts, only to discover she wants Reed to assassinate himself. Amused, he accepts. The bureau, he thinks, has become too mercenary, killing whether they've carefully weighed the justice of the murder or not.

Bringing it before the Bureau, Reed suggests they clean house -- either they kill the chairman, or he kills all of them.

And this is just in the first fifteen minutes.

What follows is an episodic cat-and-mouse game and, like all episodic features, some episodes work better than others. The scenes in Switzerland and Vienna, for example, are remarkably uninteresting, while the scenes in Venice show flashes of brilliance. Best scene: Diana Rigg, swathed in only a towel, trying to discover whether there is a bomb in her room, whether it's just a clock, or whether it's altogether her imagination. The most embarrassing is an extended foray in a French bordello.

Scrumptuous turn-of-the-century sets, far better than anything in similar period features like "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang", make for great eye-candy. The whole feature plays light-handedly, so its treatment of death never comes off even as black-comedic, as with the superior "The Wrong Box". To accentuate the joking element is the addition of a wacky late-sixties type song about love that makes the Carpenters sound profound.

Silly as it is, and dull as it can be in spots, its high spirit is infectious. How much of it is Jack London, I don't know, but it's a far cry from "The Sea Wolf"