This could easily have been a script leftover in some shoebox from an unmade 1949 noir. It's a complicated story of blackmail and betrayal. Burt Lancaster is an ex-cop just released from prison, given a job by an old friend (Cameron Mitchell) as night watchman at a college, who falls in love with his parole officer (Susan Clark). A murder takes place. Several murders take place. And some of the signs seem to point to the innocent Burt. There's a blackmail plot with lots of money involved. Well, now, Burt may have just gotten out of the slams but he hasn't unlearned the investigative skills he picked up while on the job in Chicago. Fighting against the local cops every inch of the way, he cracks the case, but not to his satisfaction. He's been used and betrayed by everyone he was close to.
No one looks out of place. Susan Clark actually looks pretty darned smokin', with her slender figure and queer beauty, a little goofy, like Nancy Travis'. The local cops are villainous. There is a trio of redneck heavies that -- well, they shouldn't look out of place but they do. This was shot in South Carolina, but it's winter, and it doesn't look like the South, whereas these three unkempt miscreants (including Ed Sauter with his working-class New York accent) look like they're straight out of some Southern Gothic slasher movie -- I EAT YOUR HEAD AND SPIT DOWN YOUR NECK CAVITY!!! One is fat, one is scrawny, all are dumb drunks who tote shotguns and pitchforks and allow themselves to be run over by tractors. They even have one of those mean mothers in Bibb overalls and boots who sneers at captive Burt and says, "Wait'll Lem gets back. He'll take care of you proper-like," or something.
There isn't a touch of anything original in the direction, the script, the performances, or anything else. Dave Grusin's score is loud and conventional -- lots of electric guitars and harmonicas and nerve-jangling percussion.
Nobody seems to have put any effort into it, which is a little surprising, given Burt Lancaster's tendency to see to it that some social message informs his story, or at least that there is the occasional arty touch. But not here. Everything is functional. No tag lines worth remembering. Instead of Burt Lancaster it might as well have been Charles Bronson.
Yet I like the thing and I look forward to seeing it on those infrequent occasions when it shows up on TV. I don't know why. I guess the location shooting captures a particular time and place rather well, though for a college in session it looks really underpopulated. I like Burt as a nobody watchman instead of an important muck-a-muck in the justice system. He looks so terribly humble in that shabby uniform. And I kind of like its lack of pretension. Better a crime thriller that knows its limits than a failed attempt at significance.
No one looks out of place. Susan Clark actually looks pretty darned smokin', with her slender figure and queer beauty, a little goofy, like Nancy Travis'. The local cops are villainous. There is a trio of redneck heavies that -- well, they shouldn't look out of place but they do. This was shot in South Carolina, but it's winter, and it doesn't look like the South, whereas these three unkempt miscreants (including Ed Sauter with his working-class New York accent) look like they're straight out of some Southern Gothic slasher movie -- I EAT YOUR HEAD AND SPIT DOWN YOUR NECK CAVITY!!! One is fat, one is scrawny, all are dumb drunks who tote shotguns and pitchforks and allow themselves to be run over by tractors. They even have one of those mean mothers in Bibb overalls and boots who sneers at captive Burt and says, "Wait'll Lem gets back. He'll take care of you proper-like," or something.
There isn't a touch of anything original in the direction, the script, the performances, or anything else. Dave Grusin's score is loud and conventional -- lots of electric guitars and harmonicas and nerve-jangling percussion.
Nobody seems to have put any effort into it, which is a little surprising, given Burt Lancaster's tendency to see to it that some social message informs his story, or at least that there is the occasional arty touch. But not here. Everything is functional. No tag lines worth remembering. Instead of Burt Lancaster it might as well have been Charles Bronson.
Yet I like the thing and I look forward to seeing it on those infrequent occasions when it shows up on TV. I don't know why. I guess the location shooting captures a particular time and place rather well, though for a college in session it looks really underpopulated. I like Burt as a nobody watchman instead of an important muck-a-muck in the justice system. He looks so terribly humble in that shabby uniform. And I kind of like its lack of pretension. Better a crime thriller that knows its limits than a failed attempt at significance.