Although relocated in modern-day England, this stays closer to the letter of the Raymond Chandler original than Howard Hawks's 1946 version did. And yet, hastening through the labyrinthine plot in well under two hours, it turns brusque and unfeeling. Not all is a loss, though. There's a nice counterpoint effect gotten from Robert Mitchum's oak-like sturdiness in the face of the gale-like plot revelations; a good running gag having to do with everyone assuming that the private eye, despite his adamant denials, has been hired to find a certain Rusty Regan; a lovely first shot behind the opening credits — a single-take traveling shot through a car windshield — and a lovely final shot, behind the end credits, which covers the same ground as the first shot, only in reverse direction. On the other hand, there's a great deal of really repugnant cheesecake, and a grotesque acting job by Candy Clark, playing a nymphomaniac as if possessed by the Devil, or else possessed by Clara Bow. With Sarah Miles, Richard Boone, Oliver Reed, and James Stewart; directed by Michael Winner. (1978) — Duncan Shepherd
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