I_Ailurophile

I'm rather lukewarm on the first film. It's modestly enjoyable, above all with firm foundations in the noir-esque narrative - but it tries to hard to be funny, especially with the protagonist's unending quips and changing personas to answer every line, happenstance, and scenario. Could a sequel improve this so-so formula, or would it stagnate in the same waters that made its predecessor so tiresome? Unfortunately, we begin to get our answer within mere minutes, and not only is 'Fletch lives' cut from the same cloth, but in some ways I think it readily shows itself to be even more irksome. I suppose there are folks who earnestly enjoy this, but I'm just not particularly impressed.

Whether the blame rests mostly on the shoulders of screenwriter Leon Capetanos (taking over from Andrew Bergman), author Gregory McDonald, or returning director Michael Ritchie, the quips to greet us again and again struggle to so much as allow a single happy neuron to fire off, let alone Chevy Chase's costume changes. There are facets of cleverness, yes, including some gags amidst the predominant strains of intended amusement, and sly skewering of corrupt, despicable institutions and awful people. There is also homophobia, transphobia, sexism, a questionable mean streak, and a general tendency toward punching down, and the comedy that fails to land works against the comedy that otherwise would. There are fair storytelling roots in the plot and scene writing as private investigator Fletch finds himself on a new case, and there are good ideas here. Once again, however, the picture just tries to hard to be funny, and if it had significantly pared down the would-be wit then each remaining instance might have counted a lot more to garnish the tale at hand.

Richard A. Harris' editing is overly brusque, and Harold Faltermeyer's synth-driven score is again quite overused, but overall this is pretty well made. This includes gorgeous filming locations, nice cinematography and use of lighting, swell stunts and effects, and fetching production design, costume design, and hair and makeup. The supporting cast is a pleasure, again, now including Hal Holbrook, R. Lee Ermey, Julianne Phillips, and Cleavon Little, among others, as they handily outshine Chase. Ah, but if only the humor were sharper, and more carefully considered. The story is splendid - and the proliferate efforts to dress it up with frivolities are too often ill-advised, with few points of real success. There's just enough worth here to keep the whole afloat among the lesser bits, and unlike the antecedent, this even managed to earn a single laugh. At length, the good news is that 'Fletch lives' is modestly enjoyable, pretty well on par with its forebear. The bad news is that 'Fletch lives' is only modestly enjoyable, pretty well on par with its forebear. I suppose I'm glad for those who like this more than I do; one viewing was enough for me.

Comedy is a form of entertainment that's particularly subject to the shifting sands of societal norms and values; what is riotously funny in one time, place, or otherwise context may not be in another. Take, for example, the type of character who has a quip on the tip of his tongue and/or a new persona to answer every word from someone else, and every scenario and happenstance, especially if the tone or style of humor leans heavily toward dryness. A writer had better be able to claim some momentous wit if that's the predominant strain in a work among various other gags, references, and what-have-you. The thing is, despite some fair cleverness every now and again, and solid foundations in the noir-esque plot, I don't think Andrew Bergman is that screenwriter. Or should I be looking to author Gregory McDonald with his novel, or perhaps director Michael Ritchie, for why 'Fletch' left me rather non-plussed from the get-go? It's not that this is bad. It's that more than not it's very humdrum and so-so.

Those occasional tidbits that are a little more sly tend to be undercut by the sheer profuse excess of the ones that are not, to say nothing of much intended humor that altogether falls flat. We viewers are greeted with a steady stream of would-be comedy as the plot develops, and while I do enjoy the story being told - and, broadly, the scene writing - as the titular private investigator follows leads in a case, the sum total is diminished by the considerable failure to elicit any laughs as it so plainly wants to. Chevy Chase's big personality as Fletch wears thin quickly, with some personas more than others; even the synth-driven score of composer Harold Faltermeyer starts to lose its luster over time, overused as it is. Sure, we can appreciate the story in and of itself, and facets like stunts and effects, Fred Schuler's cinematography, or the production, costume design, hair, or makeup. If we have to reach that far to offer unreserved praise, however, that doesn't leave the picture on good footing.

In general I think this needed more moderation in its acting, its direction, and especially its writing, and I think it would have been notably improved if it didn't try so hard to be funny. I'm not saying the feature should have been a straitlaced noir thriller, but the humor might have meant something if it were peppered in more carefully - and if passing instances of things like casual homophobia had been excised entirely. Accentuating the point, I believe that the best scenes herein are the ones with the least attempted comedy, including the climax. All told 'Fletch' is a fine film, and modestly enjoyable, with compliments to the supporting cast including Joe Don Baker, Dana Wheeler-Nicholson, and Richard Libertini, among others. I just also easily see where and how it could have been better, and there's the rub.

It takes some impeccably shrewd writing and/or direction to be very upfront in fiction about ideas, themes, and story beats and not only keep the audience engaged, but actively engrossed and paying rapt, undivided, critical attention. That writing and direction had better be even more flawless if one is going to twist together that forthrightness with delicious, sly subtleties and commentary. This is still more true if one's work of fiction prioritizes a message, no matter how admirable it may be, over the substance into which that message is woven. And if there comes a point in one's work of fiction at which the narrative in any way begins to feel ordinary and conventional - such as, say, a protagonist who feels split between competing pressures like personal desires and a more universal good - then the thought, care, and hard work that produces that fiction had better be beyond all reproach, because there is so much one is trying to do and one false move could topple the house of cards.

Thankfully, filmmaker Kobi Libii was exactly that smart and careful with 'The American Society of Magical Negroes.' This is supremely intelligent and mindful in drawing out an archetypal trope into a strident, damning exploration of and commentary on the experience of being black in a world and culture dominated by white people, and the destructive self-sacrifice that is required to keep certain people happy lest they respond to their own discomfort by becoming an existential threat. From the very beginning Libii never holds anything back in terms of the core content, making it all the more impressive (and fitting, on a meta level) when loud, direct messaging nevertheless comes across in a manner that does NOT feel confrontational. This also makes it all the more impressive when deft small touches do crop up in scenes or dialogue - and they do so often, in ways big and small. Yes, there comes a point fairly early on when the plot turns in a more typical direction, but through to the end Libii sagely delivers on that dexterous, shifting flow of unapologetic frankness and soft nuance, so the viewing experience never actually loses any steam at any time.

By all means, these are the chief qualities the picture can claim, but that's not all. I'm all so pleased with how excellent the digital effects are here, specifically because they are employed sparingly as embellishments to emphasize the "magic" of the secret society, and appropriate care was applied to make them as good as they could be. Doug Emmett's cinematography is gorgeous, bringing to bear keen lighting and rich color palettes that are equally, wonderfully aesthetically pleasing, hand in hand with the sharp production design. Further noting the splendid acting from a solid cast, and there is really no going wrong here. The satire and overall communication of 'The American Society of Magical Negroes' are much gentler than some comparable titles one could name, but that doesn't make the impact any less momentous. This is a tremendous film with some crucially important things to say, and to the same degree that it's a great credit for Libii and all involved, it's a great shame that it hasn't received more recognition. Based on a suggestion from a trusted source I assumed I would like it, and even at that it's far better than I could have anticipated. For my money 'The American Society of Magical Negroes' is pretty much a must-see for its craftsmanship as much as for the significant ideas it has to impart, and I can only give it my very high and hearty recommendation!