In the Line of Fire

It's movie making of the high, smooth, commercial order that Hollywood prides itself on but achieves with singular infrequency.

In truth, every part of this film trades so heavily on Eastwood's presence that it is impossible to imagine it with anyone else in the starring role. [09 Jul 1993 Pg. F1]

Both Eastwood's performance and the movie itself have the quality of meat-and-potatoes genre-picture entertainment: nothing fancy, nothing unusual.

With all of that going for it, it's hard to see how In the Line of Fire could be anything less than rock-solid entertainment-and, indeed, it is. Yet it's never more than that.

Petersen takes what could have been a muddled motion picture and structures it perfectly, creating a strong piece of entertainment. It helps, of course, that he has a capable cast.

The real battle here is between two generations of acting styles: meticulous method vs. star quality.

Working from the script by Jeff Maguire, director Wolfgang Petersen ("Das Boot") plods through the narrative as if he were completely unconcerned with giving it even a semblance of credibility.

John Malkovich gives one of the greatest performances I've ever seen, with Eastwood not far behind. An intense, evenly paced, gripping thriller.

They don't make them like they used to as in great films with star actors. Tense cat and mouse game by two competent dangerous and lethal foes. With nice a redemption story arc.

Horrigan is a horrible actor. The dialogue scenes between Eastwood and Malkovich are move like Bryant "big country" Reeves trying to D-up Vinny "The Microwave" Johnson. Total mismatch.

Third attempt to write a review. With all the pop ups this is getting to be a chore. Did you read any reviews before watching this movie or rating or even reviewing this? I did. I think that my feelings are best captured by Hello Texas11 on IMDB, but I am somewhat more benign towards the movie. Basically this is a movie that goes by the numbers and serves the usual tropes. And it does so without twists. The good part of this movie is that it is well made and has a few good actors to carry it. Most of the credit goes to John Malkovich and somewhat less to Clint Eastwood. The latter mostly reprises his Dirty Harry role, but more of a burned out kind. Rene Russo and Dylan McDermott are doing their best in their supporting roles. Russo gets the lesser role as the prospective romantic interest for Eastwood. The main issue is that there is nothing remarkable about this movie. Hello Texas11 describes it as an attempt to be a mix of the Manchurian Candidate and Silence of the Lambs, but never getting to the depth of both movies. I would agree even though Silence of the Lambs seems somewhat unfitting. But the thing is: it tries to put Malkovich in the scary killer role and it fails in making him scary. What we get is a run of the mill thriller, well executed but mostly forgettable. There is no depth, nothing captivating and in the end nothing to take home with you. I can imagine more interesting movies: the Manchurian candidate being one of them. This is therefore a mundane thriller that doesn't tickle the fancy: a six at best.

Voici Papy Clint qui reprend du service à courir à côté de la bagnole de "l'homme le plus puissant du monde" (sic ! ces Américains...) parce qu'il n'a pas encore digéré l'assassinat de Kennedy et que surtout un détraqué l'appelle tous les soirs pour lui confier son projet de buter le "chef du monde libre" (tu m'en diras tant...!). Mouais, on a vu mieux comme point de départ... et à parler franchement, c'est carrément bancal voire complètement con. En fait, ça ne tiendrait pas une seule minute si le détraqué n'était le si présent et si dense John Malkovitch tombé dans le charisme quand il était petit et qui met à mal notre Papy Clint poussé dans ses derniers retranchements et vieux tics d'inspecteur Harry en pré-retraite. Commence alors un jeu du chat et de la souris assez bien fichu mais qui ne tient pas sur la longueur. Le film tire en effet un peu trop sur la corde du blabla, se perd en amourette avec la grue Rene Russo au menton en galoche pour un final finalement très convenu. Il reste la réalisation très soignée de Petersen et la musique un peu fatiguée de Morricone pour faire passer la pillule in extremis. Mais bon dieu que c'est limite !