This film is actually pertinent even today given the threat of bio-terrorism, and the threats of superbugs, West Nile Virus, and SARS. As a thriller, the tension is fairly intense. Richard Widmark and Paul Douglas are more than serviceable in their roles. The domestic scenes between Widmark and his wife provide a nice interlude to the main plot. The actor in this film who most left his mark is Jack Palance. His sharply defined features and seemingly easygoing exterior always wither way to reveal the avaricious and cruel man beneath the surface. The chase scene through the packing plant is impressive even today. Recommended, 7/10.

I think we all begin a lot of reviews with, "This could've made a GREAT movie." A demented ex-con freshly sprung, a tidy suburban family his target. Revenge, retribution, manipulation. Marty's usual laying on of the Karo syrup. But unfortunately somewhere in Universal's high-rise a memorandum came down: everyone ham it up.
Nolte only speaks with eyebrows raised, Lange bitches her way through cigarettes, Lewis "Ohmagod's!" her way though her scenes, and Bobby D...well, he's on a whole other magic carpet. Affecting some sort of Cajun/Huckleberry Hound accent hybrid, he chomps fat cigars and cackles at random atrocities such as "Problem Child". And I want you to imagine the accent mentioned above. Now imagine it spouting brain-clanging religious rhetoric at top volume like he swallowed six bibles, and you have De Niro's schtick here. Most distracting of all, though, is his most OVERDONE use of the "De Niro face" he's so lampooned for. Eyes squinting, forehead crinkled, lips curled. Crimany, Bob, you looked like Plastic Man.
The story apparently began off-screen 14 years earlier, when Nolte was unable to spare De Niro time in the bighouse for various assaults. Upon release, he feels Nolte's misrep of him back then warrants the terrorizing of he and his kin. And we're supposed to give De Niro's character a slight pass because Nolte withheld information that might've shortened his sentence. De Niro being one of these criminals who, despite being guilty of unspeakable acts, feels his lack of freedom justifies continuing such acts on the outside. Mmm-kay.
He goes after Notle's near-mistress (in a scene some may want to turn away from), his wife, his daughter, the family dog, ya know. Which is one of the shortcomings of Wesley Strick's screenplay: utter predictability. As each of De Niro's harassments becomes more gruesome, you can pretty much call the rest of the action before it happens. Strick isn't to be totally discredited, as he manages a few compelling dialogue-driven moments (De Niro and Lewis' seedy exchange in an empty theater is the film's best scene), but mostly it's all over-cranked. Scorsese's cartoonish photographic approach comes off as forced, not to mention the HORRIBLY outdated re-worked Bernard Hermann score (I kept waiting for the Wolf Man to show up with a genetically enlarged tarantula).
Thus we arrive at the comedic portion of the flick. Unintentionally comedic, that is. You know those scenes where something graphically horrific is happening, but you can't help but snicker out of sight of others? You'll do it here. Nolte and Lange squawking about infidelity, De Niro's thumb-flirting, he cross-dressing, and a kitchen slip on a certain substance that has to be seen to believed. And Bob's infernal, incessant, CONSTANT, mind-damaging, no-end-in sight blowhard ramblings of all the "philosophy" he disovered in prison. I wanted him killed to shut him up more than to save this annoying family.
I always hate to borrow thoughts from other reviewers, but here it's necessary. This really *is* Scorsese's version of Freddy Krueger. The manner in which De Niro relishes, speaks, stalks, withstands pain, right down to his one-liners, is vintage Freddy. Upon being scalded by a pot of thrown water: "You trying' to offer sumpin' hot?" Please. And that's just one example.
Unless you were a fan of the original 1962 flick and want a thrill out of seeing Balsam, Peck, and Mitchum nearly 30 years later (or want a serious head-shaking film experience), avoid a trip to the Cape.