The Anderson Tapes - 1971 film review

Over the years, I've somehow managed to miss The Anderson Tapes, a 1971 film directed by the gifted Sidney Lumet, and based on a novel by Lawrence Sanders. It's a heist movie starring Sean Connery at the peak of his powers, and I've long been familiar with the excellent theme tune by Quincy Jones. Finally, I managed to catch up with it, thanks to the admirable Talking Pictures TV.

It's apparent that Lumet was trying to do something more than direct a straightforward film about a robbery. This is a story, in part, about covert surveillance, and it pre-dates The Conversation, which is my favourite movie about surveillance, a genuine masterpiece. At the start of the film, Connery is released from prison. He is an angry man, who immediately reunites with his girlfriend, Dyan Cannon, who is being maintained by another lover in a posh apartment block. Connery decides to rob her fellow residents.

The trouble is that this is a two-hour film with barely ninety minutes of material. Lumet's approach may have been cutting-edge in its day, but it seems to me to have dated, and this film is much less effective, in my opinion, than some of his other work. I am a Connery fan, but I never warmed to his character, and the heist seemed to me to be hopelessly protracted, and so obviously doomed to failure that tension faded.

Even Quincy Jones' soundtrack seems, to a modern ear, to be intrusive and occasionally a bit irksome, despite the quality of that theme. The ending is meant to be ironic, but I'm afraid that by that stage, I didn't really care too much. You'll have gathered that I was disappointed by this one. Maybe it's a case of having had expectations that were too high. But in my opinion, it's nothing like as good as The Conversation.

The Last of Sheila

The Last of Sheila is a1973 whodunit film that has achieved cult status. It’s not currently available on DVD in the UK, and I’d been searching for it for some time when, by chance, I spotted it on a TCM schedule. And I found that, if not a masterpiece, it is at least very watchable. And, unlike some films of its type, it improves as it goes along, rather than the reverse, since the build-up is lengthy before the plot elaborations really kick in (though you might think otherwise if you are better at spotting in-jokes than me.)

The screenplay was written by the very unlikely but rather wonderful pairing of Stephen Sondheim and Anthony Perkins. Sondheim in particular is a mystery and puzzle fan, it seems, and has dabbled more than once in the crime genre. On this evidence, it's a pity he hasn't devoted more time to mysteries. The cast is impressive, and includes James Coburn, Ian McShane, James Mason, Dyan Cannon, Richard Benjamin and Raquel Welch. Mason is an actor I've long admired; in a rather different way from Raquel, he is always very watchable. Joan Hackett was the only suspect I wasn't familiar with; it seems she died sadly young of cancer. Here, she puts in a good performance in a rather tricky part.  

Coburn plays a movie producer whose wife Sheila was killed in a hit and run accident. A year later, he invites a group of friends – which includes, he is sure, Sheila’s killer – to join him on a yacht called “Sheila” which is sailing around the Mediterranean.  He proposes a series of games that will reveal his guests’ secrets – but events take an unexpected turn, with a murder followed by a suicide.

After the apparent climax of the movie, there are further twists, and I felt these compensated for the slightly laboured start to the film. There are not many truly successful whodunit movies, but I’d say this is one of them. I’m sure I missed many 70s in-jokes in the script, but that didn’t really matter. Good fun.