In short: Shamus (1973)

Sloppy yet well-groomed cat-loving private eye McCoy (Burt Reynolds) is hired by an eccentric, dog-loving millionaire (Ron Weyand) to recover a safe full of stolen diamonds. Or rather, he is supposed to find out who toasted the thief who most probably stole the stones with a flame thrower, which should probably lead to whoever has the diamonds now. As it goes in cases like this, McCoy meets all kinds of weird and violent people, some of them, like living encyclopaedia Springy (Larry Block), already of his acquaintance, others, like the oh-so-hilariously named Colonel Hardcore (John P. Ryan), new even to him. Obviously, various groups beat him up severely, others are trying to kill him, and, McCoy being a private eye played by Burt Reynolds in the 70s, he sleeps with rather a lot of women.

McCoy might also encounter true love in the form Alexis (Dyan Cannon), a woman willing to wear some of the most horrible woman’s fashion the 70s came up with. Unfortunately, her former jock brother is somehow involved in the whole business.

And if I say somehow, I mean exactly that, for veteran (mostly TV) director Buzz Kulik’s Burt vehicle Shamus holds to the tradition of hard-boiled detective stories and films and makes it as difficult as possible for a viewer to answer precise questions of who, what, how, when and why of the crimes involved. Heck, it can even be difficult to exactly understand what crimes we’re talking about, or why they were committed. Now, this doesn’t play out quite as confusing as it may sound, for while the details of anything crime-related never become quite clear, the film has enough of a through-line to provide the big picture. Plus, it’s clear that the people who are trying to kill a character played by Burt Reynolds are generally bad guys.

And really, this simply isn’t a film about a guy solving a complicated crime case but one about Burt Reynolds swaggering and smirking through scenes, as always in this phase of his career giving the impression of having the time of his life and projecting that in a way a viewer can’t help but share in the feeling a bit; about Reynolds encountering weirdoes, freaks and violent assholes (the latter so he can punch someone or get his ass kicked like a good fictional PI) in a New York that isn’t quite grimy, but never so clean these characters don’t fit in it; and, this coming from a more innocent (and also less judgemental) time, about Burt having a lot of sex without emotional entanglements, until he meets someone where getting entangled seems perfectly fine to him.

Kulik’s direction isn’t spectacular, but his somewhat workmanlike approach to filmmaking never gets in the way of the character actors Reynolds encounters either. The action scenes aren’t exactly high art but get the job done in an unfussy way that is never less than entertaining. What more could anyone asked of Burt Reynolds vehicle from this era?