The strongest part of this film is its opening. Both suspense and interest is developed in the first few minutes. Once Welles is introduced, it takes an abrupt, and dismal turn.
Afterward, the otherwise good actors continuously mumble through scenes or talk over each other. Characters are either cardboard or lack appropriate reactions to situations.
For instance, Dennis Weaver's character distracts from the plot line he is involved in. A good actor brought down by poor direction.
Another waste of talent is Janet Leigh - at one time, cold and unresponsive, then suddenly overreacts to her situations. Her role cries 'women are helpless'.
Charlton Heston is permitted to play with his usual intensity. Sure his accent is lacking, but it is a minor point for this genre and time.
Lastly there is Welles' way over the top presentation of a degraded cop. Rather than being interesting or conflicted, all the viewer can feel over the whole movie is the need for relief from this shallow performance.
The regular static shots of people's expressions lends to the dragging feeling of this boring movie. Even the scenes that should have been action scenes were ruined by people staring each other down. There is also an overemphasis on cinematography that detracts from both plot and character.
This amalgam of Noir and Art Film just doesn't work. This is not a work of heart, it is a work of self indulgence.
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