Chandler

This private eye film is purely in the seventies mood, maybe more than KLUTE or THE LONG GOODBYE, produced the very same year. This one is really gloomy, slow paced, a pure product of this period. And Warren Oates contributes more than anything else in this atmosphere, because he was also the most iconic actor of this period, between late sixties and 1975, thanks mostly to Sam Peckinpah. He plays a terrific loser here, as he was in BRING ME THE HEAD OF ALFREDO GARCIA. The intrigue is worthless in terms of understanding, as any gumshoe plots, only spirit, atmosphere counts. A definitely underrated movie, the only one from this director.

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.

Raymond Chandler (Warren Oates) quits his security job. Corrupt government official Ross J. Carmady is looking to take control of gangleader John Melchior. Bernie Oakman offers old acquaintance Chandler as a patsy and hires him to protect government witness Katherine Creighton from Melchior without telling her. He befriends her and rescues her from kidnappers.

The name seems to be there to confuse fans of Raymond Chandler who created hard-boiled private eye Philip Marlowe. Chandler is world-wearied but sadly he's lifeless. The movie has nothing. The directions are stiff and without style. It's a sad tired effort. Everybody seems to be moving at half speed. Its production problems are the least of the deficiencies. Carmady's plans are not explained well. The shooting style is horribly stiff. Warren Oates looks uncomfortably small. The story is slower than molasses. Even the car chase is badly done. This is amateur hour.

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 ****

I saw this film when it was first released. The memory of how bad it was has stayed with me almost forty years. I didn't want to trust my own sentiments about the movie when I saw it, so I consulted a movie review published in a major metropolitan newspaper the next day- sentiment confirmed, the reviewer wrote that the movie was incoherent, indecipherable, and uninspiring. A little research reveals that the producer was star Leslie Caron's husband, thus the whiff of nepotism suggests the beginning for this awful film. The film's roster of many capable actors - Caron, Warren Oates, Scatman Crothers, Gloria Grahame, and James Sikking among others - suggests that it holds some promise. But the death of this film is attributable to its terrible screenplay. The "mystery" implicated is so obscure and so little revealed throughout the film that the viewer is left perplexed from scene to scene. The movie seems torn between being a detective mystery and an espionage thriller, but never settles upon one or the other. The sense of suspense is entirely absent. The main characters settle on playing dry, emotionless types in a fashion that inspires no empathy whatsoever. The cinematography is pedestrian. The result is that the hapless viewer loses interest in the characters, the plot, and, in the end, the film itself. I am little surprised that there is no version of this pathetic film available to purchase. I hope that if TCM finds a print of this film and feels compelled to air it that it is safely relegated to the 4:00 am slot.