The Running Man (1963)....boasts a tantalizing premise for a thriller and direction by Carol Reed, who surely knew his way around crafting solid suspense when he made "The Third Man".......
Not this time. The scenery's super, but the suspense went MIA.
Laurence Harvey plays Rex, a slippery British rogue who dreamed of owning his own private airline company. But the dream's denied after a charter flight he's piloting crashes, and the insurance company won't cover his claim because his policy expired two days before the crash. (In a bit of perfect casting, the claims adjuster is that inevitable stuffy uppperclass twit of countless films and TV shows, Alan Cuthbertson.)
It's a measure of this movie's blandness that I'm still unsure if the crash scene's meant to be funny.....with Rex escaping a fiery death only to see his ruined cargo of brasierres float through the air in front of him. Ah well....bra today, gone tomorrow.....
Rex has no sense of humor about it, exacting revenge on the insurance company by taking out a brand new policy on himself and Stella, his American wife (Lee Remick). He then fakes his death in a glider accident, leaving Stella with a big fat payout and an escape to South America in their future.
As Rex hides, Stella's briefly visited by Stephen (Alan Bates) another claims representative who seems vaguely suspicious about Rex's tragic, sudden demise following a fresh policy.
Then off Stella goes to sun-drenched Malaga, where Rex, sporting a dyed, frosty head of hair, poses as an ebullient wealthy Australian sheep farming tycoon. (and allows Harvey to unleash an cartoonish Crocodile Dundee accent.)
But wait! Who should pop up in front of Stella but insurance guy Stephen, who just happens to be on vacation all by himself........and jotting little notes in a booklet with the insurance company's logo on its front cover. Uh oh........
Watching this movie blow every opportunity for genuine nail-biting dread and dark humor, I couldn't help thinking of how much nasty, delicious fun Alfred Hitchcock might've given to this story Sorry, but no fun in store here. Carol Reed directs the film as if he's doing a "Visit Sunny Spain!" short subject for the Spanish Tourist Board.
About two thirds into it, the movie does reveal its one and only surprise, the kind of nicely ironic twist that always used to show up in the 'Alfred Hitchcock' tv shows. But Carol Reed's slack direction, the script's lack a single memorable scene and the indifferent editing kill the twist's impact dead in its tracks.
And by the time "The Running Man" arrives at its equally ironic finale, I appreciated the pretty photography in the final shots.....and felt underwhelmed by everything else. 1 star (*)....and that single star is only for Maurice Binder's trademark flashy main tittles similar to his colorful credits for the Bond films. As soon as this credit sequence ends, feel free to find a different, better movie to watch.
.
No comments:
Post a Comment