I love Raymond Chandler. Trouble is my business, too. And if Philip Marlowe was a real person, I’d do my best to make him my next husband—just kidding. Just not. Naturally, when I got word that a new/old Marlowe movie crawled up from the Out-of-Print, I pressed the correct buttons on my computer and a week later, the movie arrived on my porch.
The movie is The Brasher Dubloon, and stars George Montgomery as Philip Marlowe. They should have never cast George Montgomery as Marlowe. Montgomery is a tool in this story. I could outwit Montgomery. He immediately falls in-love-or-whatever-you-call-it with the Crazy-Girl. Crazy–Girl is pretty but lacking enough screen presence to lure our detective into believing in her innocence. There’s a painful scene where Marlowe gives Crazy-Girl “love lessons”. Don’t make me explain.
The rest of the cast is an assortment of stock characters: squinty-eyed mobsters, brash coppers, imperious old ladies and furtive fences. At one point in the story, Montgomery opens and closes the outer door of the suspect’s office to trick the suspect into thinking he was alone. Good God, that’s the kind of trick we learned as eight-year-olds. But even with a less than stellar cast, the Dubloon is a pretty decent story based on Chandler’s High Window. And it has great windy sets.
Although Brasher Dubloon is worse than the regrettable Lady in the Lake (another unsuccessful Marlowe) it is not the worst Philip Marlowe ever!!!!! That prize goes to Robert Altman’s The Long Goodbye. Altman has fun with the private eye genre by setting a chain-smoking Elliot Gould with his rumpled suit and narrow tie smack in the middle of 1973 California. This Marlowe spends what feels like a half-hour on camera shopping for and feeding his cat. You read me correctly—Marlowe has a cat. Gould mumbles to himself, he smirks, he hides in the bushes, and smirks some more.
Take a noir, flood the sets with California light, throw out the story, cast a smirky, ironic Marlowe BUT keep the femme fatale. What does that say about Altman? The femme fatale and her doomed husband (a brilliant Sterling Hayden) are the only serious characters in this farce. Altman has a jolly time making fun of the women in the cast as well . Marlowe’s next-door-neighbors are a group of nude or semi-nude yoga practitioners. Thankfully, no one practices downward-facing-dog; they just prance across their balcony waving chiffon scarves. There’s one other woman in the cast, and you won’t like what Altman does to her.
I hate this picture, but if you like camp, you might be amused by it. No you won’t.
The movie is The Brasher Dubloon, and stars George Montgomery as Philip Marlowe. They should have never cast George Montgomery as Marlowe. Montgomery is a tool in this story. I could outwit Montgomery. He immediately falls in-love-or-whatever-you-call-it with the Crazy-Girl. Crazy–Girl is pretty but lacking enough screen presence to lure our detective into believing in her innocence. There’s a painful scene where Marlowe gives Crazy-Girl “love lessons”. Don’t make me explain.
The rest of the cast is an assortment of stock characters: squinty-eyed mobsters, brash coppers, imperious old ladies and furtive fences. At one point in the story, Montgomery opens and closes the outer door of the suspect’s office to trick the suspect into thinking he was alone. Good God, that’s the kind of trick we learned as eight-year-olds. But even with a less than stellar cast, the Dubloon is a pretty decent story based on Chandler’s High Window. And it has great windy sets.
Although Brasher Dubloon is worse than the regrettable Lady in the Lake (another unsuccessful Marlowe) it is not the worst Philip Marlowe ever!!!!! That prize goes to Robert Altman’s The Long Goodbye. Altman has fun with the private eye genre by setting a chain-smoking Elliot Gould with his rumpled suit and narrow tie smack in the middle of 1973 California. This Marlowe spends what feels like a half-hour on camera shopping for and feeding his cat. You read me correctly—Marlowe has a cat. Gould mumbles to himself, he smirks, he hides in the bushes, and smirks some more.
Take a noir, flood the sets with California light, throw out the story, cast a smirky, ironic Marlowe BUT keep the femme fatale. What does that say about Altman? The femme fatale and her doomed husband (a brilliant Sterling Hayden) are the only serious characters in this farce. Altman has a jolly time making fun of the women in the cast as well . Marlowe’s next-door-neighbors are a group of nude or semi-nude yoga practitioners. Thankfully, no one practices downward-facing-dog; they just prance across their balcony waving chiffon scarves. There’s one other woman in the cast, and you won’t like what Altman does to her.
I hate this picture, but if you like camp, you might be amused by it. No you won’t.