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Life's going not to badly for Harry Mitchell, he's an ex-air force major (plus nifty little pension I imagine), who's raking in the cash for a patent he's developed (fusing titanium and steel via explosive process, creating super metal fit for NASA), and his wife of twenty-odd years has kept herself in pretty good nick. He's got a nice little pad in LA. I like to see visions of the 80s consumer dream, and you get a good slice here, what with the restored silver Jag (a series 1 E-type roadster) for him, and the gorgeous antique dolls house for her (as well as I'm sure other trinkets and boys toys). There's always got to be more though hasn't there? So Harry let's himself get caught up in some romantic shenanigans (you're only as old as the woman you're feeling). As in many films noir, one mistake, in an otherwise blotch-less life, leads to a downwards arc for Harry.
Three blackmailers leech onto him. These are where the value are for me, great character actors playing very believable roles. Bobby Shy (played by Clarence Williams III) is a black ex-con who is capable of performing incredible psychopathic acts in order to avoid jail and punish double-crossers. He's reminiscent of Pluto, the vicious black ex-con psychopath from Carl Franklin's well-regarded neo-noir "One False Move" (1992). There's a similar character motivation I believe. Both men have had enough of the man, and well pretty much everyone, in extremis. Robert Trebor plays Leo Franks, a fat lily-livered pansy who runs a nudie parlour where gents can photograph nude models at $25 for half an hour, and $50 for a whole hour (did anyone else guffaw at the lack of discount?). He's in over his head, and it's great to watch Trebor acting when Leo starts to feel the heat, believable breakdown. John Glover wins as Alan Raimy, who is the brains of the plot, an actually brilliant man who becomes a pornographer and turns to a life of crime out of sheer sociopathic ennui. He's a sexual sadist and does a few particularly unpleasant things during the movie, including what I believe is a pretty well-implied rape (pay attention to his RAP sheet readout, it's easily missed, and read between the lines for the motel scene with "Slim").
In common with One False Move, though not exclusively, I think the real impact of the movie is in the unusually communicative scenes of violence.
So far so good but I think there's a real problem with the film. Harry Mitchell is told at one point that he has his "tit in the wringer". My problem is that Harry Mitchell is played by Roy Scheider. Roy Scheider protagonists never lose, they're self-sure and smooth, but not in an annoying way. I feel I'm being asked to believe that his character is in peril, the movie relies on this for dramatic tension; however I didn't believe it. For me it's like being asked to believe that Sandra Bullock's character is going to end up sleeping alone by the end of a romantic drama, or Stephen Seagal's character is going to get taken down by the baddies (did actually happen in one movie but was done deliberately for shock value). Roy Scheider doesn't convince as an adulterer either, you don't feel any annoyance with him at all, his character is Teflon-coated.
It also felt like a movie that took some cuts. At 110 minutes it still feels underdeveloped: Harry's wife, Ann Margaret, is pretty much a cardboard cutout, an extension of Harry, her back story as a politician running for office receives scant attention. The effect that the affair has on Harry's marriage isn't properly communicated. This could be a Frankenheimer problem, he's not known for character development. I never felt that Harry was dealing with little more than an overtly annoying and erroneous tax claim from the IRS.
There is good sleazy violent noir content in this film, but I feel that to be in the excellent bracket that the casting of Harry could have been done better (no disrespect to the great Roy Scheider). The film felt short, even with the long running time, and I think could have taken some more fleshing out.
But you really can't forget the sleaze, like the deliciously pervy scene of Harry taking photos of Doreen in the nudie parlour.


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