The Woman Chaser

I first saw this movie in a theater, and I thought it was an amusing, if somewhat uneven film. I enjoyed Patrick Warburton's performance, but felt that the movie didn't hold together that well.

I was lucky enough to score a VHS copy recently, and I've watched the movie a few more times, and I've enjoyed it more each time.

Maybe it's because I have a better idea of what to expect. I find more humor in it, and am able to enjoy it more as the satire which I now think it was intended to be.

It's still odd and quirky, and the title really doesn't seem to fit the content of the movie very well (I read somewhere that it was originally supposed to be called "The Director", which would be more fitting), but it's fun to watch.

Plus, it's got a whole lot of shirtless Patrick Warburton, which is definitely a good thing!!

The only truly original film I've seen this year, The Woman Chaser takes its cue from its psycho-pulp origins and steeps itself in a brilliantly mordant mise-en-scene. Each shot bursts with ideas and mood, and Patrick Warburton is wonderful. The film is hilarious, and far enough off-center to truly appeal to those who get it. Those who like it will love it, and those who dislike it should probably look a little closer. Somehow simultaneously endearing, shocking and gritty, it's an insider's view of insanity, with all its delightfully f***ed-up characters painted affectionately by the director and his actors. Insightful and funny on the dregs of human behavior and in many ways a multi-layered riff on the nature of movies themselves - this is the one American film I would recommend over any other this year.

The Woman Chaser is a brilliant piece of faux film noir. Patrick Warburton deadpans his way through the title role, reminding one of Puddy with a serious Oedipal complex. Every time the smile was about to leave my face something else happened to bring it back. This is a very clever, engaging film which will be in my dvd collection when it comes out.

THE WOMAN CHASER (2000) *** Patrick Warburton gives a deadpan perfect turn as a scruple-less used car salesman in this

pitch perfect valentine to B movies and does so with great elan in

adapting pulp fiction author Charles Willeford's novel of noir to

fruition. Warburton's Richard Hudson is a sleaze with barely a

conscience yet defines his purpose in life of expressing himself by

directing a genre film he's written that ultimately mirrors his own

path of self-destruction. Blackly funny with incredible production

design and black & white cinematography that captures all-too-well the dank world of LA circa 1950s with its cocktail

lounge décor and sleek looking cars and costumes. Indie

filmmaker Robinson Devor makes an impressive debut with some

clever commentary on the duplicitous nature of Hollywood.

I first heard of Charles Willeford when Miami Blues came out. I read that book & found it fantastic. I thought the movie of Miami Blues was a minor masterpiece. I began to work backwards in Willeford's novels & got to this one which I found, like much of his earliest work, very bizarre. A used car salesman who dances a ballet with his mother. This film has captured that quality perfectly, treating it with utmost respect & love & lots of very well-tempered humor. Every detail of this film works perfectly, the acting, lighting, music, quality of sound, even, or especially, the perfect pitch of B-movie voices. Less lethal than Jim Thompson, less schematic than James M. Cain, more resourceful than David Goodis, Charles Willeford now has had two well-deserved minor film masterpieces made of his work.