Two slightly aged actors who have in the past turned in magnificent performances. Well, one, really, George C. Scott as a detective sent to Germany to investigate the death of his friend. Marlon Brando, the phenomenally wealthy oil tycoon appears for some minutes at the beginning and end of the film. Scott is magnetic as usual, a Los Angeles cop out of his element in Europe, picking up Marthe Keller along the way, and unable to trust anyone. As in most detective stories, Scott bumps into one oddball after another in his search for the reason for the murder of his partner.
There are some pretty good odballs though. Sir John Gielgud is memorable as the terminally ill ex Nazi scientist, claiming that the civilized world runs on oil and excoriating Scott because the US has its hands bloody too. Watch Gielgud lurch around with his walking stick and rasp out insults and self congratulations.
Equally memorable is Brando as the slightly deaf old chap who chews out the "monkey" who chlorinated the pool at Brando's mansion and thereby seems to have killed a frog. "Well, I just hope that frog has Blue Shield! You pay these guys five dollars an hour and they think they own the place."
There's a puckish wit in his every line and every movement. He never REALLY gets angry and never shouts. He doesn't have to. He owns 75% of all the coal in the country, ready to be converted to synthetic oil when the diminishing supply or real oil drives the price high enough. It's not a matter of morality and there are no dark ethical questions lurking in the background. It's all very simple. Money makes the world go round. And it must be true because Thomas Jefferson said something to that effect.
Most of the film was shot in Germany, in murky, night-time, rainy atmospheres with menace in every shadowy cranny. As the detective Scott does a credible job although he's no longer the human dynamo of his films from the early 60s. (Who is?) There's very little violence. Dead bodies, yes, but not cascades of gore. Nor are there pursuits, people running with guns in their hands or speeding care rolling over before bursting into flame. It's a mystery, and a convoluted one at that.
It teeters on the brink of boredom but the performances manage to keep it stable enough to be enjoyed.
There are some pretty good odballs though. Sir John Gielgud is memorable as the terminally ill ex Nazi scientist, claiming that the civilized world runs on oil and excoriating Scott because the US has its hands bloody too. Watch Gielgud lurch around with his walking stick and rasp out insults and self congratulations.
Equally memorable is Brando as the slightly deaf old chap who chews out the "monkey" who chlorinated the pool at Brando's mansion and thereby seems to have killed a frog. "Well, I just hope that frog has Blue Shield! You pay these guys five dollars an hour and they think they own the place."
There's a puckish wit in his every line and every movement. He never REALLY gets angry and never shouts. He doesn't have to. He owns 75% of all the coal in the country, ready to be converted to synthetic oil when the diminishing supply or real oil drives the price high enough. It's not a matter of morality and there are no dark ethical questions lurking in the background. It's all very simple. Money makes the world go round. And it must be true because Thomas Jefferson said something to that effect.
Most of the film was shot in Germany, in murky, night-time, rainy atmospheres with menace in every shadowy cranny. As the detective Scott does a credible job although he's no longer the human dynamo of his films from the early 60s. (Who is?) There's very little violence. Dead bodies, yes, but not cascades of gore. Nor are there pursuits, people running with guns in their hands or speeding care rolling over before bursting into flame. It's a mystery, and a convoluted one at that.
It teeters on the brink of boredom but the performances manage to keep it stable enough to be enjoyed.