They Only Kill Their Masters

A woman is murdered in a small seaside town. The cops investigate but are hampered by bureaucratic infighting, complicated relationships, and a vicious Doberman Pincher.

Looks to me like the script was on a hurry-up schedule. Nonetheless, the movie's got its compensations. Unfortunately, the whodunit part, which is supposed to be the core, is developed in pretty ragged fashion with a number of hanging threads (who is it in the nude photo; what role did the sheriff have, etc.).

The movie's appeal really comes from its unsparing and often humorous look at small town life, particularly the semi-competent 3-man police force. Plus, there are the town characters, generally cameos from movie vets getting a few minutes back in the spotlight. Nonetheless, it's an uncharacteristically grouchy Jim Garner as the chief. But no wonder he's grumpy, since his two underlings are bumblers, at best, while he has to contend with a county sheriff (Guardino) who wants to cut in on the investigation for suspicious reasons. Then too, catch the naughty innuendo that's not supposed to typify small town life. And, on a different note, that burning beach house is a real Technicolor inferno and a movie highpoint.

The movie's also a payday for a number of movie vets who get the amusing small town parts. (Except for Tom Ewell as a badly out of shape cop.) But who could have guessed that the wonderfully preserved June Allyson was all of 55 in her role here; ditto Ann Rutherford, also 55. For old movie fans, these nostalgic glimpses were a treat.

All in all, it's an entertaining movie, even with a ragged script. Then too, judging from the Malibu location, plus the timing, I wouldn't be surprised that the movie inspired Garner's TV hit, The Rockford Files (1974-1980). But it's a much more typically amiable Garner in the Rockford role than he is here. Anyway, I hope they paid Murphy double biscuits since he's a good enough actor to compete with the many movie veterans.

It was better than it should have been. It seems like it was first slated as a movie-of-the-week but then an fading MGM figured to score some box office bucks with the gimmick of this being one of their last movies shot on a studio lot. Casting MGM veterans in small parts helped some but, this being a detective movie, Jim Garner has to carry it all the way. Which he does with his usual aplomb.

It's a movie of its time. It's a small-town murder mystery with a back story which might have come from a Playboy or Penthouse fiction piece; the type no major studio would have looked at just three years earlier (it was made in 1972), let alone in MGM's heyday.

Faults aside, this movie has its interesting plot twists ratcheting up what little tension there is, so I was hooked until the end. But a loose-end or two are never answered - where did the fresh water come from? And if it was from the bath tub, was any fluoridation found? What happened to Peter Lawford's girlfriend? In one scene she's waving hello with her generous bust; in the next - a crucial one involving PL's character - there's patently no trace of her nor does anyone ask. Eh?

Hal Holbrook and Katherine Ross form the remainder of the troika of leads; Holbrook as the county vet and Ross as his long-haired, long-legged assistant from New York. In other words, she's really there to become romantically involved with Garner's character (a cinematic must.)

Harry Guardino's county sheriff brings in his boys when things get tricky but to no any real effect except the last scene. Garner's character never feels the case slipping away from him or the noose tightening as with Humphrey Bogart's Sam Spade in 'The Maltese Falcon.'

June Allyson has a cameo, bringing in yet another plot twist. A better screenwriter and/or director would have put her in more of the picture. Her brief presence lights up the screen far more than the rest of the cast combined - maybe she should have played the detective.

One of the first vehicles of the 1970's catering to the 1970's Doberman craze; although this particular pooch is more a McGuffin than pet: A friendly yet sometimes growling, possibly deadly red-herring that could provide California small town sheriff James Garner some clues...

He plays writer Lane Slate's rural lawman, Abel Marsh, in the first of three movies (Andy Griffith took over the rest); and while this is the only one made for the big screen, with a lightweight, glossy main score it both sounds and plays like a Movie Of The Week...

Even the town itself, the last chance audiences got see the Universal lot, is pure television, as is Garner's affable manner despite throwing around a few glib curse words and references to homosexuality...

The latter concerns the woman who dies in the beginning, seeming killed by the dog, Murphy... And, adding to the sporadic attempts to fit into the progressive, post counter-culture era, the beach-drowned victim is the bisexual wife of classy Peter Lawford, hanging around a young, full-chested and very straight Jenifer Shaw...

But it's natural-beauty's natural-beauty Katharine Ross who provides Garner both an ingenue and a possible twist... One of several moments where THEY ONLY KILL THEIR MASTERS wakes up from its episodic daze and becomes the Old School Detective/Neo Noir Mystery it strives for (but not quite often enough).

I saw this movie when I was ten-years-old with my cousin Johnny. My memory is a bit fuzzy, but I remember liking it. It seems that Dobermans were capturing the imaginations of Americans from Los Angeles to New York, and this film reflects that craze. Does anyone remember that crazy movie about a group of Dobermans that were trained to commit crime. It's odd how certain dogs become really popular, then aren't very popular at all. That said, I decided to watch this film again...and you know what, it's a really good movie filled with veteran actors who know how to act. Not fast-paced, but a darn good whodunit that will leave you guessing until it is all revealed. A must for James Garner fans. Quite possibly his best, if you don't include the "Great Escape" or "Support Your Local Gunfighter."

This film does feature a striking opening: a Doberman struggling with a woman's body in the ocean water. The dog (we find out his name is Murphy) was the woman's pet, but he's assumed to have killed her. That is, until an autopsy reveals that she died of drowning. In FRESH water, no less. This presents a fairly interesting case for cranky small town police chief Abel Marsh (James Garner, solid as always), who reluctantly takes possession of the dog after the canine has been cleared. He also falls in lust with the assistant (Katharine Ross, looking quite fetching) who works for the local veterinarian (Hal Holbrook).

Set in a coastal California town called Eden Landing, but largely filmed on the MGM backlot, "They Only Kill Their Masters" is no great shakes when it comes to the murder-mystery genre, but it kills (pardon the expression) time adequately enough. The filmmaking is competent, but lacks distinction. Lane Slate (also writer of "The Car") scripted, getting some mileage out of a small town setting where there's some seedy things going on behind the picture-perfect facade. His sense of humour, present in many scenes, does help to keep the picture watchable. The main problem is that some people may find the whole thing simply too easy to predict.

The film boasts an incredible cast, including some old-school veterans (June Allyson, Tom Ewell, Peter Lawford, Edmond O'Brien, Arthur O'Connell, Ann Rutherford), but some of them are sorely under-utilized. Garner makes up for that a bit with his effortless charisma, and Ross is appealing. Harry Guardino is a decent foil for Garner as a State Police captain with whom Garner butts heads. Also, a round of applause for the well-trained Dobie who plays Murphy; he can be as sweet as pie, and turn on a dime and become vicious.

If you adore this genre, you'll likely enjoy this one, even if you bemoan the wasting of some of the veteran talent.

Seven out of 10.