"Goodnight, My Love" appeared as a movie-of-the-week just a few years before neo-noir became a viable 1970s genre through films such as "Chinatown" and "Farewell, My Lovely." It's nowhere near as good as either of those, though. The 1940s L. A. atmosphere is more hinted at than evoked (never has the city looked so small), and stars Richard Boone and Michael Dunn, as rather seedy P. I.s, look more like they're dressed for a Halloween party than inhabit the characters. Boone in particular is miscast, looking both tarnished and afraid as he growls through his lines with the greatest ennui; James Garner would have been a far better choice for the role as written. Dunn tries hard, though his arbitrary perpetual hunger seems more like an homage to "Scooby-Doo" than a meaningful character trait. He and Boone have so little chemistry that one wonders how they became detective partners. Stealing the show are Victor Buono, who is aces as a Sydney Greenstreet-like criminal, and Barbara Bain, who plays the smoky, beautiful mystery woman who instigates the case to noir perfection. The plot has to do with a missing man, a missing large sum of money, and some murders, and Boone frequently complains that he has no idea what's going on. But the audience, if they're awake, should have little trouble figuring out exactly what is happening before it's revealed. Writer/director Peter Hyams' decision to shoot many scenes in one long shot, aided by obvious post-dubbing, might have been a stylistic choice, but it looks more like they ran out of time and money to do anything other than master shots. "Goodnight, My Love" (an evocatively parodic title that means nothing in context) isn't total loss, but it's hardly a win, either.
