O Último dos Valentões

This re-make of Raymond Chandler's work has the edge on the 1944 film. Robert Mitchum's face fits the film perfectly. His ageing hard boiled-looking features look like a relief map of the Rocky Mountains! In this movie Mitchum was as good he has ever been. He got better as he got older. What I also liked was the haunting but soulful musical score, at the beginning and at the end.

In the closing scene an atmosphere of rising crisis that seems to hang in the air; created by the soulful musical score. Marlow with the case all wrapped up and himself at a loose end; in the amusement centre playing the machines, picks up a discarded newspaper with "Tokyo" in bold print as the front page headline. Was this the late hours of the 6th of December in Los Angeles? A sailor and his girl, and a soldier in the background makes it seem so. Both the sailor and the soldier, and the whole of America blissfully unaware, that a Japanese armada has shaped a easterly course

across the North Pacific. That scene coupled with the soulful musical score is like a forlorn-sounding and doom-laden overture to what is about to happen with surprising and devastating suddenness on the following but quiet Sunday morning in Hawaii. It is not surprising that one of the songs is titled, "Sunday".

This version of Raymond Chandler's classic detective novel is more faithful to the original book than the 1940s version filmed as 'Murder, My Sweet', and includes some of the racial and sexual aspects that weren't able to be included earlier. However despite being more faithful for me it still isn't as entertaining. And Robert Mitchum in his prime could act Dick Powell off the screen, but unfortunately as good as Mitchum is in this movie it's about twenty years too late for him to play Philip Marlowe. If Mitchum had starred in 'Murder, My Sweet' it would might have been THE definitive 1940s Noir, but comparing the two versions as they stand, Powell beats Mitchum hands down. Even so, there is a lot going for 'Farewell, My Lovely' and it is quite an underrated movie. Mitchum may be too old but he is still compelling, and the supporting cast is first rate, and includes veteran character actor John Ireland, Charlotte Rampling ('Zardoz'), Harry Dean Stanton ('Repo Man'), Sylvia Miles ('Midnight Cowboy'), Anthony Zerbe ('The Omega Man'), a pre-'Rocky' Sly Stallone, Joe Spinell ('Maniac') , Rainbeaux Smith ('Caged Heat') and even pulp fiction legend Jim Thompson. If you MUST choose between the two versions I'd go for 'Murder, My Sweet', but 'Farewell, My Lovely' is still a very good movie. Watch them both, they make a hell of an interesting double bill!

The work of Raymond Chandler experienced a resurgence in the 1970s, thanks to Robert Altman's 'The Long Goodbye (1973)' and Roman Polanski's very Chandler-ish 'Chinatown (1974).' The waning career of Robert Mitchum was also revived by two Chandler adaptations, 'Farewell, My Lovely (1975)' {previously filmed by Edward Dmytryk as 'Murder, My Sweet (1944)'} and 'The Big Sleep (1978) {previously filmed by Howard Hawks}. Though outside the traditionally-accepted film noir period (approx. 1940-1958), the 1970s provided an ideal climate for a resurgence of the style. The demise of the Production Code in the 1960s had allowed filmmakers the freedom to explore more explicit themes, usually implying an increase in language, violence and nudity. Chandler's novels – which typically dabbled in themes of prostitution, homosexuality and pornography – could now be adapted faithfully without the threat of censorship, though fortunately, in the case of this particular film, director Dick Richards doesn't overdo the sleaze. The source material is one of the few Marlowe novels I haven't read, but 'Farewell, My Lovely' nevertheless seems a loyal interpretation of the author's style.

Philip Marlowe is the sort of role that Robert Mitchum would have nailed in the 1950s, when he always seemed to feel old and weary without actually looking it. Nevertheless – though he lacks the cocky vigour of Dick Powell, or the invincibility of Humphrey Bogart – the aging Mitchum does communicate what is perhaps Marlowe's most defining characteristic: that of a disillusioned, world-weary private dick looking for something in this world, anything, worth fighting for. In his latest case, Marlowe is hired by fearless lug Moose Malloy (Jack O'Halloran) to find his girlfriend Velma, who vanished while Malloy was serving a prison sentence. As always, what had initially seemed a straightforward assignment soon gets Marlowe embroiled in a complex patchwork of deceits, murders and double-crossings. Crucial to the mystery is Charlotte Rampling (emulating Lauren Bacall) as the adulterous wife of an old millionaire, and Oscar-nominated Sylvia Myles as an alcoholic performance artist. Also look out for small roles from Harry Dean Stanton as Det. Rolfe, and Sylvester Stallone as a lustful thug.

'Farewell, My Lovely' does a fine job of translating Chandler's pessimistic vision of urban decay and human depravity. The 1940s adaptations are, of course, superbly entertaining, but most of them – particularly 'The Big Sleep (1946)' and 'Lady in the Lake (1947)' – are clearly filmed on a pristine studio set, somewhat offsetting the grittiness of Chandler's characters and plot. Richards' film, to his credit, is incredibly ugly. Aside from Helen Grayle, whose sprawling mansion suffers next to Buckingham Palace, most of Marlowe's witnesses live in appalling squalor; even his own office is drab and bathed in shadow. Yet, despite the unpolished milieu, 'Farewell, My Lovely' most assuredly has a heart. Marlowe's wordless interactions with the son of a penniless musician help us see beneath the detective's front of indifference, hinting at his admiration for the honest working-class, and his fervent distaste towards the decadence of the wealthy. When offered his own wealth, Marlowe unthinkingly surrenders it to someone he deems more worthy, a touching but cheerless ending to a film steeped in the unpleasantness of human existence.

When Dick Powell did his version of this Raymond Chandler classic Philip Marlowe story, he and RKO were laboring under the handicap of the motion picture code. Certain things like prostitution and homosexuality were simply not talked about in those times. Still with the changes that had to be made in the plot a really great version was done and it changed the career of Dick Powell forever.

Now back in those days, Robert Mitchum was getting started and would soon be doing many a noir film for RKO himself. In getting him for this version under the original title of Farewell My Lovely the producers certainly got themselves someone with whom the Philip Marlowe character fit like a glove.

Even with color, this version is remarkably evocative of the Forties style noir film. Charlotte Rampling steps nicely into the well trod path of people like Lauren Bacall and Lizabeth Scott.

For those who don't know the barebones of the story, Philip Marlowe is hired to find Velma Valento by her old gangster boy friend, a giant of a man named Moose Malloy who just finished doing a stretch in prison. Later on a man named Lindsay Marriott hires him to as a bodyguard and he's killed. The two cases are related and the how and why is what moves the plot.

John Ireland another forties veteran of many a noir film plays police lieutenant Nulty and my favorite in the film is Sylvia Miles who is the luckless dipsomaniacal Mrs. Florian.

I do marvel when I see this film at how well the spirit of the forties was captured in this film. Turn off the color on your set and its just like watching a great noir flick from that decade.

Farewell, My Lovely (1975)

A Truly Gorgeous, Vivid, Stylish Color Noir...Don't Prejudge it on 1940s Noir Terms!

This is a gorgeous surprise, a retreat forward, a 1940s drama not done in painful nostalgic pastel hues and soft edges, but in bold bright 1975 color and pitch dark shadow. You have to say the obvious and get it over with: yes, this is a modern "film noir." But it isn't a mere homage, nor a remake, nor a cheap imitation. Director Dick Richards, who has no other well known film to his credit, pulls a gem out of nowhere on this one. Just be sure to watch it for what it is, a dramatic period crime film, not for what you think it ought to be, a slavish remake of a classic noir. And he has the help of the perfect cinematographer for the subject, John A. Alonzo, who did both Chinatown (the year before) and eight years later, Scarface, both post-noir landmark crime films.

Of course, this version of Farewell, My Lovely is, strictly speaking, a remake, which is to say, it's the third movie based on Raymond Chandler's 1940 novel of the same name. And inevitably we are going to compare to the other great version, Dmytryk's 1944 true, early film noir (called Murder, My Sweet). I say other great version, because both are really fine films, and different enough to avoid copycatting. Farewell, My Lovely is actually the more original of the two, an irony after 31 years of influences. And in some ways it's better, mainly because it has Robert Mitchum very much in top form. He makes those beautifully concise and witty one liners seem real and fitting, as if people really did once talk like that. I wish they still did.

There are countless bit parts that pump up the stylishness of the movie, most memorably Sylvia Miles playing a hard-drinking has-been. And she and Mitchum have great chemistry, not as lovers, but as people from opposite sides of life who have a similar perspective on things, and they chat and resonate like old friends. (Compare this to the rougher, less involving scene in Murder, My Sweet.) Velma herself is none other than Charlotte Rampling, probably a hair miscast because Rampling has some kind of severity that the noirish femme fatales don't, as a stereotype, share. And this movie deals with stereotypes.

Mitchum above all. It's fascinating to see a movie that is meant to be fitting into a form well known enough to be able to both refer to (in style and plot) and to deviate from (so we can feel it's original intent). And to have Mitchum, with his decades of great, strong, roles, anchor it all makes for a sweet, almost poignant experience. A similar feeling might be had in the remake of Cape Fear, but for my money, this is the more interesting movie, whatever the limitations of the plot, and the big thug. Go ahead, compare the Dmytryk version to this Richards one. If you haven't seen either one, watch the more recent one first to give it a full chance. You might go away surprised.