Roger Moore and Stacey Keach star in this Italian-American co-production, and try to be the Martin and Lewis of 70's crime exploitation cinema. The rigor mortis of Roger Moore was never more noticeable as it is here, playing the straight man next to the Keach's easygoing rouge. It's a rather stale exploitation film, with the typical one liners, car chases, shoot outs, and gratuitously bad dubbing of the Italian actors. The film does have one great highlight when Keach takes a gangster's car for a test drive, and in hair-raising fashion, wrecks it through the streets of San Francisco. Unfortunately, it all doesn't work- the comedy isn't funny enough, neither Keach or Moore are particularly convincing (especially Moore, who is as dry as a desert), the violence and stuntwork is middling, the story isn't very engaging, and the ending is painfully banal. There may be just enough `so bad it's good' work that 70's exploitation fans may be entertained, but no one would call it great.
Just to give an idea what you're in for- in the finale, Keach (as Charlie) hides some dope in cans of powdered milk, stashed in the trunk of his car. Moore, to keep him out of trouble, pushes the car over a cliff and says, `It was only powdered milk, wasn't it Charlie? And, what's the use of crying over powdered milk?' You may now groan if you aren't already.
Just to give an idea what you're in for- in the finale, Keach (as Charlie) hides some dope in cans of powdered milk, stashed in the trunk of his car. Moore, to keep him out of trouble, pushes the car over a cliff and says, `It was only powdered milk, wasn't it Charlie? And, what's the use of crying over powdered milk?' You may now groan if you aren't already.