Détective privé

This I don't understand-

For years I've believed in how Elliot Gould's Philip Marlowe in "The Long Goodbye" was the first effort at making a P.I. character a whacked out loser with a post-modern attitude. Yet, I'm watching "Harper" today and my jaw is bounding off the floor like a yo-yo. Because in the lead role Paul Newman gives one of the ten best performances I've ever seen, and maybe the best comedic one from a non-comedian actor ever done. Even at the two thirds mark, when 99% of the screenplays usually have nothing new to say about their characters, Lew Harper was still leaving me damn near breathless. How "Cool Hand Luke" is more famous than "Harper", which is never mentioned anywhere as the king-size sleeper it is, bewilders me entirely.

Paul Newman is "Harper," a detective called upon to find a missing husband in this 1966 film based on the book "The Moving Target" by Ross MacDonald. It also stars Lauren Bacall, Arthur Hill, Pamela Tiffin, Robert Wagner, Shelley Winters, Robert Webber, Janet Leigh and Julie Harris.

Bacall, on the suggestion of the family attorney (Hill) hires Harper to locate her husband. Along the way, Harper meets some bizarre characters, including Strother Martin as an alleged religious guru, Harris as a junkie singer and others. There are enough twists and turns to keep the audience interested throughout.

As Harper, Newman turns in another excellent portrayal as he beards Steve McQueen in his den - and wins. His characterization has wit and style throughout - he's the perfect '60s detective with a wife he needs but can't stay with, a home in his office, and a determination to get at the truth despite a great deal of danger.

Though one usually doesn't associate Newman with warmth, he is perhaps more likable in this role than the ubercool McQueen would have been. Newman is, in fact, just plain great as he whips off those one-liners. Though down and out, his Harper plays it as it lays.

The supporting cast is wonderful, top-notch all the way, and the film is accompanied by a terrific musical score. Paul Newman has given us some great portrayals. I put Harper near the top of the list.

While perhaps not as taut as "The Maltese Falcon", but just as intricate as "Chinatown" or "L.A. Confidential", "Harper" is an under-acknowledged gem of a film that's as cool as it's leading man. It's with this film that I began to get a better appreciation of Paul Newman, easily one of the most versatile leading men Hollywood has ever produced. Here, he plays Harper as something of a SOB, always looking at the paycheck as his top priority. Not that the pond he has to swim in is any better; a frigid woman client, a hot-to-trot teen daughter, a duplicitous servant, an attorney who's the closest thing to a friend Harper has, a washed-up nightclub singer, her sinister, Texan husband, and a cult leader aren't exactly what one would call charming dinner company. It also doesn't help that the guy Harper's trying to find isn't even liked by the wife who hired him (thanks to the under-appreciated fire and spirit of Lauren "Betty" Bacall, one of the true originals) or anybody else. The only thing they like is his money.

Like a good boxer, the plot bobs and weaves, never letting the audience know when the next surprise is coming until it's too late. While Chandler is cited when talking about this film, it also makes me think of Hammett's many, many tales of the Continental Op. Not everybody always tells the truth, not everything is what it seems, and the best laid plans of mice and men (to paraphrase Bobby Burns) wind up falling through. Some people may not have the patience for this film in our razzle-dazzle, in-your-face age of entertainment, but for those who prefer their movies with a soft, subtle touch, this is one for you.

Until CHINATOWN, HARPER was probably the most mature private eye movie Hollywood ever produced. Paul Newman is dynamite as the scrappy, somewhat goofy title character, hired by wealthy Lauren Bacall to find her missing husband. Newman gets more than he bargained for as he runs into one flaky character after another: Shelley Winters as a bloated former child star, Julie Harris as a junkie, Pamela Tiffen as Bacall's extremely bitchy stepdaughter, Robert Wagner as a private-eye wannabe, and, best of all, Strother Martin as nasty, new-age guru. Not much of what happens really ties together, but it's all very fun to watch. The performers are all terrific and the pseudo jazz score is another plus. Featuring Arthur Hill, Robert Webber and Janet Leigh, underutilized as Newman's frustrated ex-wife.

The film opens with Harper (Newman), unshaven and gradually awakening from a hangover… He puts his head under a faucet, attempts to make coffee but finds none left, and dispiritedly takes yesterday's grounds from the garbage and makes a perfect1y terrible cup of coffee… At once we get Harper's image as an antihero detective without any illusions…

As he is commissioned by Lauren Bacall to trace her wealthy husband who has been kidnapped, the details are filled in: he's tough, ironic, cool, unpleasant and repugnant… Although occasionally given to a moment of sensitivity or remorse, he's most1y sadistic and exploitative…

Harper is a loner, with an air of detachment and an ability to dispatch opponents with a fist and a flippant remark… He swings into action only mechanically… He chews gum constantly, looks around in an uninteresting manner, makes little disapproving gestures, laughs in total disregards, and smiles mischievously…

Harper's dealings with women are based exclusively on coldness, deception and sexual exploitation… He is estranged from his wife and would like to renew his marriage