It was a measure of his box-office clout at the time that Orion Pictures agreed even though Reynolds' first two directing efforts were widely panned. The 1981 adaptation of the Diehl novel wound up being probably his strongest big-screen directing work -- he was widely praised for his behind-the-camera efforts on the Evening Shade sitcom, but not for either of the two movies he would later helm.
Sharky's Machine has a kind of TV movie visual feel to it, although its violence would have kept it off any small screen in 1981 and probably sent it to basic cable today. Reynolds doesn't try to do much more with the camera than use it to tell the story, which could have been either a result of his limitations as a director or his awareness of those limitations. Either way, it puts the acting performances and the narrative at the center of the movie, which is probably what most actors want anyway.
Tom Sharky (Reynolds) is a top Atlanta Police Department narcotics cop whose mistake on a high-profile bust embarrasses the department enough it busts him to the Vice Squad, a collection of burnouts and dead-enders who probably deserve most of their reputation for loserdom. The accidental discovery of a high-end prostitution ring leads the squad to Dominoe (Rachel Ward), a big-money call-girl whose clientele includes some of the city's major political leadership. As the squad members set up round-the-clock surveillance of her apartment to see if they can uncover the people running the ring, Sharky finds himself drawn to Dominoe -- or at least the version of her he sees and hears through the cameras and microphones -- and becomes dangerously entangled in the case on a personal level when he witnesses a shocking crime via the surveillance equipment. The case has roots and branches at many levels of official and unofficial leadership of the community, and Sharky's connection to Dominoe puts them both in the middle of a deadly contest.
Reynolds' flamboyance -- especially during his "car-crash-movie" phase of the late 70s and early 80s -- tends to obscure his abilities as an actor. Although Machine was labeled a kind of "Dirty Harry in Atlanta" movie by a lot of people, including Reynolds himself in a joke made to Clint Eastwood, Tom Sharky is not the ruthless avenger of the .44 Magnum. He's less confident, less sure of himself, less detached and not as stable. His weaknesses allow him to breach professionalism and common sense to create a Dominoe that doesn't really exist and then believe himself to have feelings for her. Reynolds' usual macho swagger fills much of his screen time and smoothly-executed jokey banter with the veteran character actors who are the other parts of the "Machine," but it looks less like swagger and more like an act as he introspectively spies on and pretty much stalks Dominoe.
Ward was really the only rookie on the movie, since Reynolds surrounded himself with familiar faces and friends in the other primary roles. She projects cool until finding herself a target for the criminals who run her life, and manages to realistically create both the imagined Dominoe in Sharky's lens and the real one who is frightened and angry when he enters her life. Vittorio Gassman does his usual elegant turn as a ruthless crime boss and Henry Silva is characteristically insane and creepy as his brother and right-hand man.
Machine was a decent success at the box office, probably owing more to Reynolds' face on the screen than his eye behind the lens, and earned some critical praise as well. Its Laura-derived plot and over-contrived corruption narrative can be quite easily set aside in order to enjoy its noir-lite atmosphere, fine performances, and well-maintained tension.
The stunt in the final shootout was a big deal at the time; I remember news reports about it alone because it was the longest free fall ever.
ReplyDeleteFortunately it does not share the book's ending. And that's all I have to say about that.
It was very much a first novel.
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