mark.waltz Too bad one of those good things wasn't this movie, my thoughts, as Richard Harris spoke the above line, and my anxiousness for the end growing as the film dragged on. This mob spoof overstays its welcome, although the opening shot of the Hudson River graveyard is an interesting (and absurdly comical) shot of cement shoed statues, their ghostly torsos clad with Medusa like wild hair, some decomposing, a few others fish food. As for the plot, basically a mob war that nobody can win, it is so oddly presented that you have to wonder if this is what director John Frankenheimer ("The Manchurian Candidate", "Seven Days in May") thought of as comedy.Black comedy works best when it deals in irony, but this view of entirely unlikable people in ugly situations results in utter disgust towards the proceedings, not ironic whimsy. The film's most amusing scene (barely so) is the handicapped hit-man Chuck Connors' briefcase of arm attachments, some crude, some comical. Veteran actor Edmund O'Brien offers a minor touch of class as the big boss, with Constance Ford (coming back to films after a decade on daytime soaps, most notably as the tough but loving matriarch on "Another World") playing a stereotypically hard-boiled madame predictably named Dolly. As for leading lady Ann Turkel, the less said the better.

orbitsville-1 44 things (out of 100) about this movie:Ann Turkel is gorgeous. Bradford Dillman gives a supremely bad performance. Chuck Connors' scenes are the best scenes in the movie. Edmond O'Brien, one of my favorites, is decent in this forgettable film. The underwater opening is a lot of fun. Richard Harris is half cool, half wooden. Married To The Mob is better than this. Smokin Aces is better than this. Lucky Number Slevin is better than this. Frankenheimer isn't necessarily meant to do comedy. Richard Harris likes to take his glasses off in dramatic fashion, make sure they click-clack noisily as he fiddles with them, and then manfully put them back on his face. The blocks of cement seem too light. I'll say Ann Turkel is gorgeous twice, because it'll help me get to 44 Things faster. True Romance is a hundred times better than this. Snatch is much better than this (and I still must see Lock, Stock And Two Smoking Barrels). I think you get what kind of (better) films this movie compares to. They probably should have come up with a different title for this thing. If you like accumulating Super-Guilty Pleasures you can't do much better than this. Hard to believe he's the same director of Seconds and The Manchurian Candidate. Richard Harris did his fair share of odd, somewhat unpalatable movies. The dialogue should have been more humorous. It's like they saw Live And Let Die and decided a gangster movie needs alligators and a guy with a hook for a hand even more than a spy movie does. I've seen much worse than this, but still, is this anybody's favorite movie??The plot, gangster turf war, is pretty much irrelevant. Ronin improves on the car chases and the night-time bridge shoot-out stuff. Ronin is a better movie. Back to those phony-sounding bullet ricochets we had to endure in movies for years. Richard Harris also likes loading and unloading his guns, but then all these action guys like playing with their weapons. Thank goodness Tarantino found a way to attach a great script and story to this kind of vibe. Henry Mancini's music works fine. Early version of dude walking away from building as it blows up, and having absolutely no reaction at all (apparently the epitome of Cool). The 1970s are a hotbed of totally watchable bad movies. The secret to enjoying this is not to expect a masterpiece, but just sit back and don't think. I thought there'd be more blood. I think this one may be better than Johnny Dangerously. The young ladies in this movie are all quite pretty. Ann Turkel looks a bit like Raquel Welch, just in case that's a look you appreciate. Some of the fight scenes are less than convincing.44/100% Dead should really be written as 22/50% Dead--or no, I guess not, that's stupid. Now I kind of want to check out Humanoids From The Deep. But I don't want to check out Island Of Dr Moreau (Frankenheimer version).The next oddball gangster flick I plan to finally check out is Bound, which will probably be better than this. Ann Turkel drives a mean school bus. Dick Tracy is better than this, though we do get some cartoony colors here too, now and then.Chuck Connors finds the right vibe for this film, and if the rest of the movie had taken a lesson from him, this could have been a lot more satisfying.That was 44, unless I've miscounted.

Woodyanders Shrewd ace hit-man Harry Crown (Richard Harris in fine cool form) gets hired by top mobster Uncle Frank Kelly (the excellent Edmond O'Brien) to bump off his ruthless rival Big Eddie (a deliciously broad portrayal by Bradford Dillman). However, Big Eddie retaliates by unleashing his brutish enforcer Marvin "Claw" Zuckerman (neatly essayed with menacing relish by Chuck Connors) on Harry. Director John Frankenheimer, working from a quirky and imaginative script by Robert Dillon, relates the zany story at a snappy pace, expertly mines an amusing line in dark, yet campy and playful deadpan humor, stages the exciting car chases and shoot outs with his customary skill and flair, maintains a cheerfully twisted screwball sensibility throughout, and delivers lots of striking oddball visuals that include giant alligators in the city sewers and corpses in cement shoes littering the bottom of the sea. Moreover, the cast attack the kooky material with lip-smacking zest: Harris, O'Brien, Dillman, and Connors have a field day with their colorful parts, with sturdy support from the gorgeous Ann Turkel as Harry's loyal and sultry school teacher girlfriend Buffy, David Hall as nice and eager novice button man Tony, Katherine Baumann as the sweet and adorable Baby, and Janice Heiden as Uncle Frank's luscious two-timing moll Clara. Ralph Woolsey's sharp cinematography gives the picture a funky stylized pop art look. Henry Mancini's groovy swinging score hits the right-on jaunty spot. A very enjoyable and interesting one-of-a-kind oddity.

Jonathon Dabell 99 And 44/100% Dead couldn't get off to a better start. Henry Mancini's catchy score blasts out over pop art-inspired credits. A body wearing concrete boots is dumped into the river and, as it sinks to the bottom, we see hundreds more concrete booted corpses dotted around the underwater landscape. Then in a comically sardonic voice-over by Richard Harris, we are introduced to the off-kilter characters and settings of this absurdist gangster comedy-thriller. In its opening five minutes, 99 And 44/100% Dead promises to be yet another box of delights from director John Frankenheimer. Alas, there are 92 minutes still to go… and the film runs out of ideas and inspiration faster than you can utter the title. All potential for a quirky black comedy quickly vanishes, replaced by a tedious and confusing mess that seems to go out of its way to embarrass its cast.Gangster Frank Kelly (Edmond O'Brien) controls the underworld of a city. That is until rival mobster Big Eddie (Bradford Dillman) declares open war against him. The city ain't big enough for the two of them, and pretty soon the streets become lawless killing fields where assassinations, gunfights and ambushes are part of daily life. Frank hires Harry Crown (Richard Harris), a tough and resourceful hit man, to help him to re-establish control. Harry finds himself waging war on Big Eddie's minions – including his old one-handed nemesis "The Claw" Zuckerman (Chuck Connors), who can fix various deadly weapons to the stump of his missing hand.Intended as a black comedy, 99 And 44/100% Dead simply isn't very funny. The title - which mocks a famous American soap commercial of the day – is every bit as haphazard and clumsy as the rest of the film. Harris has precious little to work with as the hero of the piece, but at least he does what he can. Bradford Dillman only features in a couple of scenes as Big Eddie, but in these scenes he manages to embarrass himself quite hideously in one of the decade's worst exhibitions of self-indulgence (second only to Peter Boyle's jaw-dropping display in Swashbuckler). Robert Dillman's script darts all over the place, paying little heed to character or logic. While the occasional bursts of action are competently staged, they don't fit around the rest of the narrative to create a coherent whole. Even a director of Frankenheimer's pedigree cannot sculpt the unwieldy mess into something solid and workable. In the final analysis, 99 And 44/100% Dead is a thorough let down from talents capable of much better.