The pervasive seediness is pretty well taken care of, in short order, with the haircuts, mustaches, bulbous features, and plastic raincoats of the anti-heroes, these superstars of surveillance, and also with the somber, tinkling musical score of David Shire. The disdainful, sedentary camera directions of Francis Ford Coppola serve chiefly to quash most of the incipient suspense and satire in this character study of an ace bugger who starts on the road to insanity when he starts to take an interest in the moral -- and mortal -- consequences of his spying. (Gene Hackman looks wonderfully transformed in the role -- drab, dyspeptic, secretive.) The main plotline, surprisingly simple and catty, is dropped for long intervals, rather than developed, in order to make it last the movie's length. It hinges on the inflection of one small word, and it makes a blatant borrowing from the darkroom scene in Blow-Up, which was an exciting enough scene to warrant borrowing, even if tape recordings, in place of photographs, offer less to look at on screen (spools turning 'round). With Allen Garfield, Frederic Forrest. (1974) — Duncan Shepherd
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