The Big Sleep

Most people would probably run a mile at the thought of Michael Winner getting his hands on the rights to film Raymond Chandler's masterpiece novel 'The Big Sleep'; but personally, I was rather excited at the prospect. Michael Winner may not be a great director; but his films generally turn out to be entertaining in spite of not being brilliant, and with a story as strong as this one; I felt confident that The Big Sleep would be a good film. However, as it turns out; this film is not as good as it could have been. The story focuses on private investigator Philip Marlowe. He is hired by an old man who goes by the name of General Sternwood to investigate a case of blackmail against one of his daughters. After meeting the daughters and some of the other main players involved, our hero soon comes to the conclusion that the blackmail doesn't really constitute a threat and becomes suspicious; leading to him thinking that everything seems to be more connected with the disappearance of the man's son in law, and decides to investigate that instead.

For one reason or another, Michael Winner has decided to move things over to England; although the lead man remains American. This change in location has not really had an effect on the story; but it did leave Winner free to recruit an excellent roster of British stars. Among the names in the cast list are Oliver Reed, John Mills, Joan Collins, Richard Boone and Edward Fox. The film is lead by Robert Mitchum, who while not as great as Humphrey Bogart, still makes an excellent leading man and there's also enough room in the cast for an aging James Stewart. The film is a lot shorter than the earlier version of this story and Winner has really trimmed things down a lot, which means that the story is much more straight forward than it was in the 1946 film. This is not really a bad thing as it does mean that the film is easier to follow; although it also seems less expansive. The characters take something of a backseat too, with only the lead character getting any real development. Still, this is at least an entertaining thriller and I don't feel like I wasted my time watching it; although Howard Hawks' version is better.

"The Big Sleep" '78 is not so much a remake of the earlier Howard Hawks favorite as a more faithful reading of the Raymond Chandler novel, albeit transposed by screenwriter / director Michael Winner ("Death Wish") to modern day London. A very appealing Robert Mitchum reprises the role of private eye Philip Marlowe (after his portrayal in "Farewell, My Lovely" in 1975), hired by dying American military man General Sternwood (James Stewart, who makes the most of two brief scenes). The case is a matter of investigating a blackmailer...at least, that would *seem* to be the case. As Marlowe finds out, there's an awful lot going on here, but he handles all of it in great style.

Winner treats this material with quite a bit of humor, rendering it positively silly on a frequent basis. It makes one believe that he had contempt for it. But Chandlers' story is fortunately still engrossing, and it's the kind of thing that really keeps viewers on their toes, trying to pay attention to all the details and twists. (Since there's much exposition to digest, viewers can't afford to let their attention wander.) The film *looks* absolutely great, with fine use of locations and lovely photography. It's spiced up with some (tastefully done) nudity, but it's never ever very violent.

The main draw is a sterling group of American and British actors. Sarah Miles, Richard Boone, Joan Collins, Edward Fox, John Mills, Oliver Reed (typically amusing as a threatening gangster / casino owner), Harry Andrews, Colin Blakely, Richard Todd, Diana Quick, and James Donald are all present and accounted for. Mitchum anchors the proceedings with his colorful performance, but dragging things down quite a bit is the way overdone airhead shtick by Candy Clark, playing Sternwoods' younger daughter. Usually she's pretty reliable, but here she's much too annoying. Mitchum and company do have fun with the sometimes witty and lively dialogue.

Well paced, and fairly energetic, but overall not especially memorable. Some people might want to just revisit the Bogie and Bacall version instead.

Six out of 10.

Chandler's novel is pushed ahead by about 40 years. His Philip Marlowe is aged about 30 years. The location is changed by the combined breadth of the United States and the Atlantic Ocean. It should come as no surprise that this doesn't work at all. The scandal from which Marlowe shields the old man was so much more significant in the period in which the book was set. (Who, for example, really would be heart-broken or even especially shocked to learn in 1978 that his daughter had been photographed in the nude? Granted, that the secrets get darker, but the point is that so much is diluted.) Mitchum is a very, very fine actor, and when he was, say, 30 to 40 years old he would have been a good choice to play Marlowe; but an important aspect of Marlowe is exactly that he is so weary of spirit while still a relatively young man; we expect the old to feel old. And...a film noir in the English country-side? I don't think so!

In recent years we have seen a number of Hollywood remakes of classic British crime films, such as 'Get Carter', 'The Italian Job' and, most recently, 'The Ladykillers', a phenomenon that has aroused some critical comment, especially in Britain. This film shows that, nearly thirty years ago, this same phenomenon was happening in reverse, and the British were remaking classic American crime movies.

The plot broadly follows that of the 1946 film, with the striking exception that the action takes place in London rather than Los Angeles. This does not, however, mean that the original has been completely anglicised. Both Philip Marlowe and General Sternwood are American expatriates living in London rather than Englishmen, and they are played by two of Hollywood's biggest stars, Robert Mitchum and James Stewart. With the exception of Richard Boone as Canino and Candy Clark as Sternwood's younger daughter, the other main parts are all played by British actors.

The film was clearly made as homage to the famous Humphrey Bogart classic, and it is inevitable that comparisons will be made between the two. In some respects, in fact, the later film is superior to, or at least as good as, the earlier one. (I have not read Raymond Chandler's novel, so I cannot say which film is closer to the original source material). The 1946 film is a fine one, but it is not perfect and has a number of weaknesses, not least its insanely complicated plot containing threads that are never developed and events that are never explained. The plot of the 1978 film, while complex enough, is somewhat easier to follow than that of its predecessor. To the purist Bogart fan there can be no substitute for the original, but to anyone else Robert Mitchum, himself a fine exponent of the film noir style during the early part of his career in the forties and fifties, seems like the best possible replacement. He is, of course, older than Bogart was when he played the role, and his portrayal of the character is perhaps less cynical and more thoughtful, but it is a perfectly acceptable interpretation. There are also good performances from Stewart in the cameo role of Sternwood, from Oliver Reed and from Joan Collins.

As a whole, however, the film does not live up to the standard of the original. Certainly, not all the actors are as good as their 1946 counterparts (Sarah Miles, for example, is no Lauren Bacall), but the main reason for its comparative failure goes deeper. The Bogart movie is perhaps the quintessential film noir, a film that one watches less for its plot, or even for its acting, than for its unique atmosphere of cynicism, menace and dubious glamour. An important factor in creating that atmosphere is its dark, brooding black-and-white photography. Unfortunately, in the late seventies the use of black-and-white was generally regarded as the equivalent of hanging a sign on the cinema door saying 'Warning! Art-house Movie! Intellectuals Only!' A few established auteur directors such as Woody Allen ('Manhattan') and Martin Scorsese ('Raging Bull') could get away with using monochrome, but there was no way that the studio would allow such latitude to Michael Winner, a director generally associated with violent commercial thrillers. So colour it had to be. In fact, the photography of London and the English countryside is quite attractive, but it is no substitute for the authentic film noir look.

I mentioned that the atmosphere of the earlier film was also one of dubious glamour; besides Bacall it has a large number of other strikingly beautiful but sinister women (some of them only in minor roles). The later film cannot compete in this respect. With the exception of Joan Collins (who could do sultry but sinister glamour in spades, even in her mid-forties), none of the female characters has the required touch of the femme fatale about her.

As a London-based crime thriller, Winner's 'The Big Sleep' is not a bad film; it is better than most of its director's other thrillers and better than a lot of other British films from the seventies. As homage to its namesake, however, it falls some way short of its aims. 6/10

A dream project with a dream cast and the result is a nightmare. Well, definitely not a pleasant dream. While Michael Winner was busy updating "The Big Sleep" why didn't he add a disco score to reflect the cultural environment of 1978? It would have made just as much sense as plopping a too well-tailored and inappropriately affluent Philip Marlowe down in modern day London. Chandler's novels were very much about the city of angels as much as they were about Marlowe and his code of honor. Winner either didn't know that or didn't care. What he gives us is a standard yet below par mystery film that has little connection with the character Robert Mitchum so memorably played three years earlier in "Farewell, My Lovely." Unlike Robert Altman's "The Long Goodbye," wherein Marlowe was portrayed as an anachronism in contemporary society, Winner's updates reflect nothing but his ignorance of and/or boredom with the material.

But Richard Amsel's poster is great!