TO KILL A CLOWN
Can't sleep...clown'll eat me...
Alan Alda is so not a figure of manace, it's just not funny. Still, this psycho-thriller ain't half bad, and despite its slow pace, I'll bet I'll be looking back on it pretty fondly a year from now.
A painter with what might be described as "a deplorable excess of personality" (quick, name the source) vacates at a bayside cabin with his wife. Their marriage is a little rocky, but they're working on it. Too bad their idyll is interrupted by the arrival of their neighbor (Alda), an injured Vietnam vet who walks on twin canes and travels with twin dobermans.
For some reason, the director insists on ending every scene with a freeze-frame. The opening credits sequence is pretty cool, rendered mostly in cartoon form. Performances are good all around, even Alda giving this everything he has (man, his ranting speech on all the good buttons have done for America has to be heard to be believed), but still, he just ain't right. Some actors never get over the role that made them famous. Alda sure as hell never did, never mind that this movie came out the same year as the M*A*S*H TV series. (ever see Murder at 1600?)
The best scene comes when Alda comes into the couple's house and packs up every conceivably dangerous object he can find. The wife, of course, lets him do this, because he claims it's part of a big game. Meanwhile, they can't even defend themselves with so much as a belt.
I wouldn't really recommend this one to anyone other than the already curious. Still, not too bad.