Chandler: Not Raymond, but Warren Oates

Warren Oates as Chandler.

After a long career as a supporting actor, Warren Oates was ready to headline a major motion picture in 1971. He had garnered good notices in Sam Peckinpah's controversial Western The Wild Bunch (1969) and earned more acclaim as the lead in Two-Lane Blacktop (1971), a low-budget film that became a critical darling. He was poised for a star-making role, but then he made Chandler (1971).

Mike Laughlin, who had produced Two-Lane Blacktop, signed on as producer. Leslie Caron was cast as the female lead. MGM planned to distribute it. In the biography Warren Oates: A Wild Life, Caron notes that her husband, whom she considered a good judge of film properties, was impressed with the script. Chandler must have sounded like a promising endeavor, but, alas, the final product is a convoluted mess.

Oates plays the title character, a washed-up private eye in contemporary L.A. who has gotten desperate enough to pawn his Smith and Wesson. When an old friend offers him a job trailing a woman, Chandler senses something is amiss. However, he needs the money...and perhaps a little self-respect.

Leslie Caron as Katherine.

The woman turns out to be Katherine Creighton (Leslie Caron), the mistress of an East Coast gangster, who wants to start a new life. Neither she nor Chandler realize they are serving as, respectively, the bait and the patsy in an elaborate plot to lure Katherine's ex-boyfriend to Monterey and then kill him.

I suspect the idea behind Chandler was to transplant a tough private eye and a mysterious lady--familiar characters in 1940s film noir--to modern times. The two leads, especially the world-weary Oates, are up to the task of playing a couple of lost souls who find each other. Unfortunately, they are saddled with a muddled plot and esoteric dialogue. (Katherine: "What are we going to do now?  Chandler: "Nothing. Something.") And since Chandler was made in the early 1970s, that means there's always a chance that the ending will be left up in the air (at least partially).

I will say that writer-director Paul Magwood makes maximum use of the on-location filming in Carmel and Pebble Beach. The ocean views almost had me calling a travel agent. However, in addition to the pretty backdrops, Magwood adds some realism to his film by shooting scenes in a real hotel, a pest extermination office building, and along the winding roads of Carmel.

Mitchell Ryan as one of the villains.

It would turn out to be Magwood's only directorial job. He would spend the rest of his career working as an assistant director on TV shows and an occasional movie, like the excellent Time After Time (1979).

A nice surprise in Chandler is what amounts to a cameo by Gloria Grahame as one of Oates' friends.  In the biography Gloria Grahame, Bad Girl of Film Noir, author Robert J. Lentz writes that Magwood and producer Laughlin took out a full page ad in The Hollywood Reporter to apologize for Chandler. They claimed that MGM executive James T. Aubrey had the film re-cut, added scenes, and changed the music score. That is likely true given the film's running time of under 90 minutes and its horribly inappropriate music.

Up Periscope: Early James Garner

The same night that he proposes marriage to a recent acquaintance, Navy Lieutenant Kenneth Braden (James Garner) is whisked away to conduct a secret mission in the Pacific. Once aboard the submarine Barracuda, Captain Paul Stevenson (Edmond O'Brien) explains that Braden will be dropped off in a lagoon near a Japanese-occupied island. His task is to locate a enemy radio transmitter, photograph a radio code book, and return to the sub.

As if that's not challenging enough, the journey to the island is fraught with its own perils. The most significant may be that the submarine crew has lost confidence in its commander. During an earlier mission, Stevenson played it "by the book" and waited underwater for six hours while Japanese boats patrolled the ocean surface. However, as a result of the long wait, a young sailor died of wounds sustained during the attack.

Edmond O'Brien frets a lot.

Apparently, Warner Bros. was grooming James Garner, one of its biggest TV attractions, for movie stardom in Up Periscope (1959). However, it's clear that the studio didn't want to put too much effort into this modestly-budgeted actioner. The trek to Braden's destination contains some minor thrills (e.g., an aerial attack on the sub), but the plot never gains steam until the final half-hour. Add a pedestrian script and what you have is a rather perfunctory picture that does little but showcase Garner's natural appeal.

Edmond O'Brien deserves better than the clichéd role of the vessel commander who begins to doubt his own decisions. The same can be said of an interesting supporting cast, which is mostly wasted. Still, it's entertaining to watch early appearances by football player/future broadcaster Frank Gifford, Edd Byrnes, and Warren Oates. Judging by Byrnes' limited screen time, I'm guessing the production started before he became a pop culture phenomenon as Kookie on 77 Sunset Strip.

Alan Hale, Jr. with beard!

Two other actors may have unknowingly auditioned for their most famous roles. As Garner's bunkmate, Alan Hale, Jr. provides most of the film's humor--preparing him well for playing the Skipper in Gilligan's Island. Meanwhile, Henry Kulky, who plays the Barracuda's Chief Petty Officer, would play one again in the first season of the TV series Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea. (Sadly, he died of a heart attack, so the Seaview had a new CPO in seasons 2-4.)

If you're a James Garner fan, you probably ought to see Up Periscope. Garner displays everything that made him a film and TV star for decades, from the heartfelt love scenes with Andra Martin to the physicality of his (backlot) jungle scenes. That's the best recommendation for this otherwise soggy adventure.

James Garner and Andra Martin on the beach.

Cult Movie Theatre: Race With the Devil

I miss drive-in movies. Sure, you can still watch a movie at a drive-in, but no one shows drive-in movies anymore. I'm referring to the teen musicals, biker flicks, chase pictures, and fright fests that dominated the outdoor theatres of the late 1950s through the 1970s. These low-budget exploitation films are largely forgotten today, but some have acquired small loyal followings over the years. One such example is Race With the Devil (1975), which combines the thrills of a road race drama with the creepiness of Rosemary's Baby.

Peter Fonda and Warren Oates star as Roger and Frank, two hardworking friends who decide to take a long-deserved vacation to Aspen, Colorado with their wives (Lara Parker and Loretta Swit). Their plan is to drive a new $36,000 RV across Texas to reach their destination.

Warren Oates in the driver's seat.

On their first night, they park their van in a secluded meadow far off the highway. As their wives huddle inside the RV, Roger and Frank share booze and conversation under the stars. Their peaceful interlude is interrupted when they see what appears to be an orgy in the woods. As they move closer to investigate, they're stunned to witness a young woman being sacrificed. At the same time, Roger's wife Alice (Swit) calls out to her husband...and the noise attracts the attention of the Satanic cult. A chase ensues in which the two couples barely escape with their lives--but that's just the beginning of their problems.

Race With the Devil is probably best-remembered for its two action set pieces: the race through the woods at night and the high-speed pursuit climax. Indeed, the former scene is a tense nail-biter that reminded me of a similar night attack in the made-for-TV classic Gargoyles.

Loretta Swit and Lara Parker.

However, on the whole, Race With the Devil works best as a paranoid thriller. Lara Parker (Dark Shadows TV series) gives a nicely nuanced performance as Fonda's wife Kelly. Although her initial fear subsides, Kelly gradually begins to suspect that everyone she meets may be a member of the cult. Even in the apparent safety of a large commercial RV park, she sees people "watching" her. Is Kelly starting to lose her grip on reality or she the only one who realizes how much trouble they're really in?

Peter Fonda takes aim.

Race With the Devil was the second of three films that Fonda and Oates made together. It was sandwiched between The Hired Hand (1971) and 92 in the Shade (1975). The actors' careers, though, were going in different directions. With his appearances in Sam Peckinpah films and critical acclaim for Two-Lane Blacktop (1971), Oates was near his career peak. In contrast, Fonda was stuck in 1970s drive-in fodder like Fighting Mad, Futureworld, and High-Ballin'. Of course, to his credit, he also made one of the best chase movies with Dirty Mary, Crazy Larry and the comedy Outlaw Blues (with Susan Saint James) is a lot of fun.

Race With the Devil isn't an undiscovered gem, but it's a well-made, exciting drive-in movie. It's the kind of picture that will have you shouting advice at the TV screen. I mean, I kept telling them to drive about 400 miles before reporting what they saw in the woods. But no...they stop at the little nearby town the next day and R.G. Armstrong appears as one of those condescending sheriffs that you just can't trust. No one listens to me in these movies....