All hopes that this would be a credible cop movie flew up the air shaft in the first five minutes when it became evident that this particular Boston precinct house was largely staffed by NYC actors with NYC accents. Oh, well, I thought. Maybe it'll be funny. Wrong again. The various attempts at humor by scenarist Evan Hunter, adapting one of his 87th precinct novels, range from mildly amusing (the too gentle attack dog) to trying too hard (having Burt Reynolds and Jack Weston dress up as nuns) to downright annoying (the loud, obnoxious, and resolutely mirthless painters). At the very least, I then thought, I'll get some decent action sequences. Again I was to be dismayed, this time by director Richard Colla's lackluster handling of a police chase, a political assassination, and a stakeout. My last hope was that with such a wonderful ensemble of 70s actors I would be treated to some hard hitting and/or interestingly offbeat performances. Four times unlucky. I have rarely seen Reynolds, Raquel Welch, Jack Weston, Tom Skeritt and Don Gordon this dull, a failing for which I also blame Colla since these actors usually are not. Only James McEachin and Dan Frazier manage to infuse some quirky life into their characters.
Bottom line: What profiteth a movie to reach for "Police Academy" by way of "French Connection" only to come up with PG, mid level "Barney Miller"? Give it a C.
Bottom line: What profiteth a movie to reach for "Police Academy" by way of "French Connection" only to come up with PG, mid level "Barney Miller"? Give it a C.