Farewell, My Lovely (1975) doesn’t hold up as much as I’d
hoped it would.
The film tries for the same 1940s Los Angeles atmosphere popularized
by 1974’s Chinatown. Raymond Chandler’s novel would seem a good choice for 1940s
nostalgia, but David Zelag Goodman’s script throws out much of the novel, other
than character names, and adds gratuitous 1970s skin and sleaze.
David Shire’s opening soundtrack effectively evokes the feel
of the period (although by the end the soundtrack feels like a television
detective show). The dark shadows of the cinematography, various L.A. period
locations, and Robert Mitchum’s voice-over says we’re heading into film noir
country.
Mitchum at 58 feels a little old for the 40ish Philip
Marlowe, but his world weary attitude does contribute to his character. Chandler’s
Marlowe should have the charisma that women fall for and Mitchum doesn’t have
this. He appears more father than possible lover. Mitchum’s acting style is often stilted.
Goodman keeps the racial bigotry found in the opening scenes
of Chandler’s novel, but then throws in a mixed race couple for no reason other
than to perhaps to “save the cat” (to show us what a good guy Marlowe is). In the book, Chandler gave Marlowe a female side-kick (Anne
Riordan) who helps him solve the case and provides some love interest. She disappears
from the cast. I found some of the changes humorous: the male psychic Amthor becomes
a madam with a house of working girls; Amthor’s hired gun the Indian becomes a the
madam’s hired gun Cowboy.
Sylvia Miles as the slatternly Jessie Florian gives one of
her best performances (and was nominated for an Oscar for her role). Charlotte
Rampling as Helen Grayle channels a young Lauren Bacall. John Ireland, Anthony
Zerbe, Harry Dean Stanton, Jack O’Halloran and a young Sylvester Stallone are
all fairly forgettable in their roles.
All in all, reading the book was more fun than watching the
film.
Farewell, My Lovely (1975) ***
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