Refroidi à 99%

Oddball take on the gangster movie courtesy of screenwriter Robert Dillon and director John Frankenheimer. Richard Harris is Harry Crown, a killer in the employ of mob boss Frank Kelly (Edmond O'Brien). Frank hires Harry to rub out Frank's chief rival, Big Eddie (Bradford Dillman), but Big Eddie ups the stakes by kidnapping Harry's new lady friend Buffy, played by Harris's real-life wife Ann Turkel. It takes place in a slightly futuristic milieu, and the fact that it's intended to be a satire and is never exactly taking itself that seriously is its main appeal, with the cartoon opening credits establishing the tone early on. It comes up with some effective images along the way, like the scores of corpses wearing cement shoes that have been dumped into the ocean (accompanied by Harris's narration) and the sight of actual alligators in the sewers. There's also the rousing music score by Henry Mancini to add to the fun factor. The problem is that the movie just doesn't have a whole lot of energy; it falls flat a lot of the time. It plods a little too much and seems longer than it is. In any event, the cast certainly gives it 100 (as opposed to 99 and 44/100) percent, with a droll Harris in the lead, and highly amusing performances by O'Brien and Dillman. Turkel, Janice Heiden as Clara, and Kathrine Baumann as Baby all provide the movie with appreciable eye candy. In fact, Baumann figures in what is one of the better sequences in the movie when Harry is working to prevent a bomb from going off; the sequence has fine tension. A good unlikely chase sequence involves a school bus, but one of the most enjoyable elements is seeing Harry take on Big Eddie's enforcer, Marvin "Claw" Zuckerman, played to the hilt by the wonderful Chuck Connors, so named because he puts claws, guns, and other implements on the end of his arm where Harry had hacked off the real deal some time ago. This could and should have been more fun overall, but it does have its moments. Fans of the actors should be satisfied. Six out of 10.

John Frankenheimer's post modern stab at the crime genre comes hot off the heels of Michael Ritchie's Prime Cut (from the same author no less), only the tone is more cutesy and the body count is nearly tripled. After a Pycal-inspired opening and an excellent underwater graveyard montage, we are introduced to pearly pistol gripped gangster Richard Harris who's en route to Chicago (?) to help win a dangerous mob war. The substandard mafia plot sits second tier to the film's sporadic comedy spoofing and mugging, much of what both fails and succeeds simultaneously at the hands of its dramatic director who must have been at the peek of his well publicized cocaine binge. Harris, with his balding curl mullet and wide-brimmed glasses resembles a young Michael Caine or Woody Allen depending on the lighting and camera angle, but performs his actions and delivers his dialog like a stone cold stoic; the juxtaposition is startling and dare I say cool as hell. Action scenes come out of nowhere and are framed and executed with professionalism, including a crazy ambush on an elevated bridge, and Chuck Conner's interchangeable James Bond claw which can alternate between knives and sex toys given the occasion. Much maligned and obscure gem. The skeletal dead humans and accompanying narrator reminds me of the Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disneyland.

The Spiegelman-esquire comic book artwork that promotes this film really enticed my curiosity, but the film overall didn't turn out to be as "far out" as the many reviews I read for it. It's good--Harry's cool, and the characters were fun, but the plot points are cliché and only the soundtrack really makes this a tongue-in-cheek satire of movie violence (it's Harry Mancini ala Pee Wee Herman). So, if you're looking for a really strange, arty, Mod satire watch Modesty Blaise, They Call Her One Eye, or A Clockwork Orange. Or, if you want amputees with strange devices watch Deadfall or any Alejandro Jodorowsky movie. The effort to track down and pay for a copy of this will perhaps disappoint.

It's certainly different, but it's not very good. Richard Harris plays a hit-man hired by a mob boss to knock off a rival. Director John Frankenheimer starts things off with a bang with Roy Lichtenstein inspired titles and a pretty fun shoot out/car chase. The film itself is so slow that quirky touches like a giant balloon sculpture, a lesson on cement shoes and an incorporated brothel offer a lot of relief. Harris looks otherwise engaged and Ann Turkel, though gorgeous, isn't much of an actress...and she's certainly too classy to be convincing as a school teacher/dancer named Buffy! A very old and tired looking Edmond O'Brien plays "Uncle" Frankie, the mob boss --- he looks like a puffy Humphrey Bogart and sounds like a near dead Jason Robards. Connors " plays "Claw" and clearly has a lot of fun with his prosthetic. Bradford Dillman is awful as O'Brien's rival...he affects some sort of Brooklyn accent even though no one else does AND the film is set in L.A. Henry Mancini's jazzy score is great, but becomes increasingly intrusive as the film progresses.

Flaws aside, the film is surely a high-water mark in the spotty career of Richard Harris...he went on to star in ORCA, THE CASSANDRA CROSSING, etc.

The title refers to the now very old Ivory Soap claim of 99 and 64/100% Pure - and there is another "old" meaning for 'pure' that would be known to Frankenheimer and Dillon. It's another word for the material tanners would use in browning leather - dog turds. This should have been a clue to the humor to follow.

This is an interesting and odd film.