Chi ha ucciso Jenny?

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.

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.

James Garner is the police chief of a small town. A woman turns up dead, and it's accepted that her own dog, a doberman, killed her. As he investigates the matter, however, new facts come into focus that exonerate the animal..... and makes his own loneliness apparent to him.

It's a pleasant little romance with Garner in modern dress, looking a little seedy as he and Katherine Ross fall in love with each other. It's a very minor effort, but it's eked out nicely with many small roles taken by familiar faces: Hal Holbrook, Harry Guardino, JUne Allyson, Peter Lawford, Edmond O'Brien, Ann Rutherford..... is this where old MGM stars retire to?

This is a cute little movie that is of"B" quality but better than most and certainly better than most TV Movies. In the story there is a beautiful Doberman named Murphy who is believed killed someone. I won't disclose the ending. There is a chemistry among all the actors that keep the movie together. I read lately that this was the last movie that this particular movie company made before the backlot was bulldozed for another use. I had a Doberman after this movie and I called him Murphy in memory of him. Absolutely worth watching at least once. Not to be confused with the other James Garner movie called "Murphy's Romance".

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).