gf-18

If proof was needed that Gower Champion should never be allowed on a film set again, this movie provides it. Based pathetically on Donald Westlake's second "Dortmunder" novel, it's so bad that the names had to be changed to protect the innocent. Dortmunder becomes Balantyne. Kelp becomes Karp. Scott's forced to operate with caterpillars glued over his own eyebrows, making him appear to be the love child of a Hobbit and Jerry Colonna. And everything that is laugh-out-loud funny in the novel is "please kill me now" awful here.

While Robert Redford was terribly miscast in "The Hot Rock" (George Segal would have made the better Dortmunder), at least he was not strapped to the screenplay and director from hell as Scott was. The fans of Westlake still await a decent "Dortmunder," but hold out little hope. Walter Matthau, who would have smacked that role out of the park, is gone. But this is a case where you really want to hunt up the novel and never ever go near this film, drunk or sober.

Christian fell asleep...Hell, I was in it and *I* fell asleep. As Ms. Kelleghan states, most of the actors were not actors, we were writers who knew Somtow and were invited to play characters, some of which he named after us (Ray Ridenour's character is named "Dozois", because award-winning sf writer/editor Gardner Dozois was originally slated to play the part). Me, I channeled equal parts of Roddy McDowell and Thurston Howell III; but Ed Bryant (damn his eyes) stole the movie simply by being Ed. Nobody could top the delivery of "big IL' armadiller." The crew in general seemed to like us a lot, mainly I suspect, because we were all giddy idiots thrilled to be making a film in Hollyweird, unlike, say, actors, who are usually fighting over who has the biggest RV.

However...you watch this thing at your own peril. GF