Llámame Natacha

This is an offbeat sad, melancholy comedy for which the viewer has to be in the right disposition to enjoy it. Somehow a last stance against total despair. But if the disposition of the viewer IS right, The Black Marble can bring many joyous and thoughtful moments.

The main theme is, as often in a script by Joseph Wambaugh, that being a cop in L. A. is just unbearable in the long run. Soft hearted romantic Sgt. A.M. Valnikov, member of the Russian orthodox church, certainly has chosen the wrong job and shows first signs of vodka induced paranoia. He is teamed up with outwardly tough Sgt. Natalie Zimmerman who says „this isn't a goddamn Chekhov play" - but does she mean it? The case the two officers are involved in is the kidnapping of a Schnauzer by a punk who happens to be a dog breeder and trainer. Valnikov flies to the rescue of the distraught female owner without being able to bring the case to a happy conclusion. The only thing he is capable of is offering solace, which he does in a way that makes his colleague, frankly, jealous. But the movie trundles to a generally consoling if not very convincing ending with everybody more or less happy.

The team around director Harold Becker made the best out of a tight budget. For me this is one of the most memorable L. A. movies with really beautiful locations (the great musical score by Jarre helps wonderfully). There are many hilarious scenes, especially all the dog world related ones, the violent final (and totally accidental) clash between lawman and perpetrator and an enthusiastic Mexican doctor who has to „clean up" lower body parts of the punk after he got his pecker between canine fangs („it's still there, but you may not want to use it for a few weeks"). Not everything is perfect, sometimes I would really have liked romantic scenes to linger on some more, the last scene falls entirely flat (did the budget run out?), but on the whole The Black Marble is a fine piece of movie making.

The ensemble cast is just great. The most intriguing character for me is police officer Clarence Cromwell, played by John Hancock. What else can he be but an angel? He has no other function but to be there when his colleagues argue or are downbeat, not least his boss who doesn't decide anything without consulting him. It all gives that character a strangely supernatural aura.

I read the book (©1978) about two weeks ago, rated it 8/10, discovered there was a movie version (©1980), watched the movie last night while "Irene" was storming our neighborhood. The book was slow to start and a bit difficult to get into. But, once the author "set the hook", I couldn't stop reading. What a superb composition. But then comes the movie... Hollywood did an outstanding job moving the book to film. The last time I enjoyed a book/film combination as much as this was for "Get Shorty". Well done Wambaugh! Thanks much.

The character development within the film is excellent with plenty of concentration on the major & minor players... one reason the movie is as long as it is. Some may complain, but one can't really appreciate how well this development supports the overall thrust of the movie without reading the book or watching the movie a second time.

A very underrated film that can be called a cop movie, a buddy movie or an odd couple movie; mainly, one that's funny, human & absolutely beguiling. And it gets better each time I see it. The scene in which Robert Foxworth seduces Barbara Babcock (or vice versa) saying again & again, "I'll find your doggie"; the scene in which Paula Prentiss hilariously seduces him as a Russian gypsy song plays in the BG; Harry Dean Stanton as a dog lover who doesn't want to harm the dog he must harm to be credible as a blackmailer; James Woods' violinist who wants to stop playing & pee; the Russian restaurant; Foxworth's drunken opening scene in a Russian church--all are so wonderful & so well acted that the movie is an absolute delight. It's not to everyone's taste, but it sure is to mine. At first, it was a lovely surprise. Now, it's like an old friend.

IMO, this is one of the most underrated films ever. I love most of Joseph Wambaugh's cop stories and this one was sheer delight. From the opening scenes, when the drunken Robert Foxworth is shown swaying back and forth at a religious ceremony, until Harry Dean Stanton ends up in a Mexican hospital with his genitalia mutilated by a Doberman Pinscher, it's just one long belly laugh after another. The only jarring note in this otherwise splendid comedy is Foxworth's mental flashbacks to murdered children. I think this is one of the few movies I've seen where the screen version of a story surpasses the original book.

This movie has all the signs of a film that sat on the shelf for a while. When The Onion Field came out, this made Wambaugh (and James Woods) hot again, and they decided to release it -- that's my guess. Look at Woods, in the pre-stardom, almost extra role of the Fiddler.

The reason is simple. Robert Foxworth stinks it out. He delivers such a soft center in the role, the proceedings are even difficult to understand.

The other problem is that the dialogue is long long, pointless and drawn out. The action crawls along a foot a minute while the characters make small talk.

Paula Prentiss is fine, as is Harry Dean Stanton. But sometimes movies don't always jell, and this one sure doesn't either.