A professional hit-man is sent on a mission to Europe, but gets involved with a bubbly sexpot despite his strict code of self-discipline.
Disappointing melodrama that doesn't come off despite a sterling cast. There's a delightfully sexy Remick, a charmingly continental Palmer, a mysteriously wacky Meredith, and an imposingly sinister Hayden. Plus, starring in the central role, a wordlessly stone-faced Coburn. But despite this line-up, the screenplay is both over-long and needlessly elusive.
The key to the murky story, I'm guessing, is that the movie was made in the late 60's, during the 'Make love, not war' period. What writer-director Pogostin appears aiming at is a movie that applies the motto to a professional killer, of all things. At least, this is the narrative's trajectory even though the details are too often elusive. Much of the obscure philosophical palaver appears to concern just how wrong professional hits are in an era of mass political killing. It also serves, I think, to soften Cunningham's going unpunished despite his bloody record. Note too, how little attention is given to Cunningham's two professional hits, as if they're merely incidental to the overall story.
Whatever the narrative shortcomings, we get a pretty good travelogue of Western Europe as background. In fact, it appears Pogostin never shot in the same spot twice, which means the camera jumps around a lot adding to the feeling of a disjointed narrative. One way or the other, the movie's amounts to a disappointment given the talent involved. My advice is to catch up with a tight little b&w gem from 1958, Murder by Contract, which shows how the material should be done.
Disappointing melodrama that doesn't come off despite a sterling cast. There's a delightfully sexy Remick, a charmingly continental Palmer, a mysteriously wacky Meredith, and an imposingly sinister Hayden. Plus, starring in the central role, a wordlessly stone-faced Coburn. But despite this line-up, the screenplay is both over-long and needlessly elusive.
The key to the murky story, I'm guessing, is that the movie was made in the late 60's, during the 'Make love, not war' period. What writer-director Pogostin appears aiming at is a movie that applies the motto to a professional killer, of all things. At least, this is the narrative's trajectory even though the details are too often elusive. Much of the obscure philosophical palaver appears to concern just how wrong professional hits are in an era of mass political killing. It also serves, I think, to soften Cunningham's going unpunished despite his bloody record. Note too, how little attention is given to Cunningham's two professional hits, as if they're merely incidental to the overall story.
Whatever the narrative shortcomings, we get a pretty good travelogue of Western Europe as background. In fact, it appears Pogostin never shot in the same spot twice, which means the camera jumps around a lot adding to the feeling of a disjointed narrative. One way or the other, the movie's amounts to a disappointment given the talent involved. My advice is to catch up with a tight little b&w gem from 1958, Murder by Contract, which shows how the material should be done.