Chandler

TCM did recently show this movie on a typically lazy summer afternoon before the 4th, and from the start, I was looking for some type of story line in which to sink my interest in, but things turned out murky. Its big draw was that it starred the much under-appreciated Warren Oates as some kind of detective who starts asking the big redeeming questions after he can't bring himself to carry out the job of tailing a mysterious woman for a corporate interest. When that plot line eventually became evident, I had the misfortune of falling asleep for just a few moments, and upon awakening, became even less involved as Oates wandered from scene to scene with the intent of discovering why the woman (the capable Leslie Caron) was on everyone's mind. My fault, sure, for nodding off, but unless the viewer is into speculation, this idea is never really revealed which leads to one guessing why her character is so central to the film's plot. Also disconcerting is how effortlessly the scenes wander between Carmel, Calif. and Los Angeles. The film's geography apparently has the two locales next door to one another, but they're not. The action moves too conveniently between them. And when Oakes and Caron end up with an inoperable vehicle yards from the Pacific Ocean under Big Sur's famed Bixby Creek Bridge after appearing to only have pulled off a main highway and onto a dirt road the night before, it appeared as if the producers wanted to get some grand photogenic shot near the end of this floundering mess. For whatever reason, too little too late. Nitpicking, yes, but I'm trying to find something worthy to write about what could have been a very good flick with just a little more pertinent exposition, and if I could, I would have had another joyous detective movie from the glorious '70s to chew on and enjoy.

There is nothing to recommend this turkey. I like Warren Oates but even he can't enliven the terrible dialogue, rotten script, stupid editing, and the horrid, horrid soundtrack. Plot? Oh, something about somebody wanting to kidnap Leslie Caron, or kill her, or something. But it's all a ruse to set up another guy who works for the organized crime syndicate that's run by the government. Something like that. Stay away. Especially if you like Warren Oates; you don't want to remember him this way. One thing that's of interest: listening for Gordon Pinsent's Newfoundland accent. But you don't want to remember Pinsent this way, either.

In the many films I have seen Warren Oates, I have come to a definite conclusion, here is one talented individual. I first saw Mr. Oates back in the 1960's television series called Stoney Burke. From then on, I followed his career closely and felt he was destined for great roles. That happened in 1974, when Sam Peckinpah gave him top billing in a film called 'Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia.' Of course, his biggest claim to fame was his magnificent role in 'The Wild Bunch'. I have always thought he was quite able to bring any character a certain magic, that is until I saw him in this flop. The movie is called " Chandler ", a tribute to the iron fisted detectives of the 1950's created by Raymond Chandler. Because, the synopsis said it was about a hard nose Private Eye, I was immediately interested. However, I sat patiently through the entire film and found it to be a dull, dis-interesting, slow pace, twisted, confusing saga which if it had a theme or plot must have been left on some dark back room self. Collectively and with some of Hollywood's best supporting stars, such as Alex Dreier, Mitch Ryan, Gordon Pinsent, Charles McGraw, Richard Loo and Scatman Crothers, this movie had enough power to reach Mach five, however, it fizzled on the launchpad and went no where. As a result, one of my favorite actor's got stuck in a poorly made vehicle which never got off the ground. **

Former private eye-turned-security guard ditches his latest droning job and is immediately offered a chance to return to his previous profession. His assignment: to tail a mysterious French woman newly arrived in California...and apparently wanted by suit-and-tie racketeers. Unsuccessful attempt to update the noir genre hasn't enough sting or wit (or involving plot dynamics) in its screenplay. Director and co-scenarist Paul Magwood (who later claimed the picture was edited without his involvement) doesn't give off the impression of having high regard for the '40s films his "Chandler" was borne from; his nostalgia is appropriately rumpled, but also bitter-tinged and somewhat indifferent. The handling is curiously, commendably low-keyed, and Warren Oates is well-cast as this variant on the 'private dick' archetype, but the movie just doesn't have any snap. Nice to see Leslie Caron and Gloria Grahame in the cast--though neither has much to do, and Caron's hot-and-cold running character is exasperating throughout. Vivid cinematography by Alan Stensvold, nice location shooting, but it fails to come to a boil. *1/2 from ****

Of all the 1970's attempts at reviving Film-Noir this is by far the worst. The other Neo-Noirs are far superior and each have an appeal that goes far beyond a gallant effort. This one had rumblings of Studio meddling and was disowned by its Creators.

But that seems to be an attempt at apologizing for their own failures. Because it is doubtful that anything shot assembled in any order and no matter what Score was used, this is a giant misstep of the first order.

The incoherent Plot and the paralyzing dull Dialog are unforgiving. There are feeble tries at some Pulp Fiction one liners and cynical sayings but it is just uninspired and unwelcome. it is ironically a cross-era example of a style out of time. The Gumshoe icon of the Forties and Fifties seems unable to make the time transfer when it is up to mediocre Writers and Filmmakers.

There are other more worthy successes like The Long Goodbye (1973), Farewell My Lovely (1975), Chinatown (1974) and others that prove that the retro resurrection can work and it is those Films that made it possible for the Neo-Noir Genre to flourish to this day.