moonspinner55

Charles Bronson stars as assassin Arthur Bishop, working for a secret organization while mentoring impudent rube Jan-Michael Vincent, the ambitious son of a big shot who happens to be on Bronson's hit list. Tight Lewis John Carlino screenplay is full of sly betrayal and dark character content, while Richard H. Kline's gritty cinematography sets the perfect bitter tone. A terrific vehicle for Bronson, who had it stipulated in each of his contracts that wife Jill Ireland would be part of the cast (she appears here as "The Girl"). Bronson is once again partnered with British director Michael Winner, whose work here is solid--especially his staging of a morbidly funny finale, imitated for years to come. *** from ****

Jan-Michael Vincent plays a "baby blue Marine" (i.e., a Marine boot camp failure) during World War II who is initially sent home after five weeks in disgrace wearing baby blue fatigues until he's knocked unconscious (by a white-haired Richard Gere!), forcing him into a different uniform--that of a Raider Marine. Original screenplay by Stanford Whitmore opens with a hilarious loser's outfit overseen by an incredulous drill instructor (Michael Conrad, who's terrific). The rest of the film isn't quite so good, especially with Whitmore's overripe narrative playing out like a Preston Sturges wannabe accented with barracks talk, introspective drama, and curlicues of wobbly comedy. Vincent (laying on the sensitive soul routine) isn't the recruit I wanted to follow, anyway; that honor would go to Bruno Kirby (B. Kirby Jr.) as a fake bed-wetter who just wants to get home to his lonely wife. **1/2 from ****

12-step drama from director Glenn Gordon Caron, working from an overwritten screenplay by Tom Carroll, features a miscast Michael Keaton as a Philadelphia real estate salesman with a cocaine problem. He steals $92K from an escrow account, but loses some of it in the stock market and most of it buying blow. Hiding out in a rehabilitation center, Keaton's screw-up gets a sponsor and meets other addicts, falling for abused co-dependent fellow addict Kathy Baker. Carroll's writing is contrived in a pseudo-serious key, while the acting is arduously phony; Keaton is out of his depth and Baker overdoes the 'ordinariness' of her doormat druggie. Audiences were smart enough to stay away...you know something's wrong when even Morgan Freeman can't break through the plastic. * from ****