When James Coburn passed away in 2002, it was sad to see how little fanfare was generated by this event. Coburn's resume is as strong as any actor of the Sixties and Seventies. For almost a decade, Coburn played in some of the strangest and most unorthodox films of the era. Everyone knows that he capably spoofed the popular spy genre with his "Flint" films. But it wasn't until he became the President's analyst that he really hit his stride. The fabulous panoramic views of a pre-World Trade Center New York duel with the more grimy shots of the Manhattan Garment District. Look for a humorous assassination involving a knife and a clothing pushcart. Nostalgic observation: the New York Skyline appears the way it does on the New York Mets' uniform patch. The plot concerns the President's need for a head shrinker. Wanted: a man who can be trusted with the leader of the free world's secrets. Grandpa Walton (Will Gear) shows up as the President's prior therapist. He is wonderful as always. Edgy pop singer, Barry McGuire, plays a stoner with a catchy song on his acoustic guitar. One memorable sequence combines McGuire's tune (something about "changes") and a team of assassins in a field, attempting to kill our hero, Coburn. The killers use everything from guns to gas to blow darts. Even a net. In widescreen, the final shot of the movie resonates with a sly, satirical nod to the genre. The villain of the piece comes as a big surprise to anyone under the age of forty: think telephone exchanges and room-size computers. And mix. Bravo!
Review of The President's Analyst
