Hickey & Boggs is one of those (almost) forgotten neo-noirs that were made in the late sixties and early seventies. It was the writing debut of Walter Hill and was directed by Robert Culp who co-starred in it with his old I Spy buddy Bill Cosby.
The first thing I noticed was that this was not a story about pretty people living the glamorous life in Los Angeles. Our two protagonists do not live well. Both men are weary and just grimy. They live on chili dogs and beer. their vehicles are wrecks as are their personal lives.There is absolutely no effort to make Southern California or our heroes clean and neat. Wilted is the word that comes to mind.And they aren't they only ones .The police officers and much of the general public seem to be in the same boat.Considering that in the early seventies Southern California was still considered to be the land of milk and honey to many Americans the decision to show the wormy underbelly of the state was daring.
Our heroes are not slick, perfect men. They aren't very good shots with their revolvers (a refreshing change of pace actually) and they more or less stumble onto many of the leads in the course of their investigation.When the story ends they haven't accomplished anything except to kill the three mob soldiers and a mid-level "manager" who dog them throughout the story. They save nobody, the mob remains untouched, and they might very well be looking at time in prison. At best they'll probably lose their private investigator licenses.
It's been said before, but this movie would never get made today. At least not as a mainstream movie. There is no satisfying conclusion. The villains continue to prosper with only a few low level "torpedoes" and a middle level manager dead. The female ,who at first one thinks might need to be helped by our intrepid P.I.'s, soon turns out to be as bad as everyone else.
Jaded and cynical, but I liked this story. It was smartly written and had a bite to it that one doesn't find anymore. In 2015 movie characters are perfect. Even the villains are perfect. Well that's how they seem to me at least. In 1972 there was still room for the ordinary, sloppy, imperfect people.
The first thing I noticed was that this was not a story about pretty people living the glamorous life in Los Angeles. Our two protagonists do not live well. Both men are weary and just grimy. They live on chili dogs and beer. their vehicles are wrecks as are their personal lives.There is absolutely no effort to make Southern California or our heroes clean and neat. Wilted is the word that comes to mind.And they aren't they only ones .The police officers and much of the general public seem to be in the same boat.Considering that in the early seventies Southern California was still considered to be the land of milk and honey to many Americans the decision to show the wormy underbelly of the state was daring.
Our heroes are not slick, perfect men. They aren't very good shots with their revolvers (a refreshing change of pace actually) and they more or less stumble onto many of the leads in the course of their investigation.When the story ends they haven't accomplished anything except to kill the three mob soldiers and a mid-level "manager" who dog them throughout the story. They save nobody, the mob remains untouched, and they might very well be looking at time in prison. At best they'll probably lose their private investigator licenses.
It's been said before, but this movie would never get made today. At least not as a mainstream movie. There is no satisfying conclusion. The villains continue to prosper with only a few low level "torpedoes" and a middle level manager dead. The female ,who at first one thinks might need to be helped by our intrepid P.I.'s, soon turns out to be as bad as everyone else.
Jaded and cynical, but I liked this story. It was smartly written and had a bite to it that one doesn't find anymore. In 2015 movie characters are perfect. Even the villains are perfect. Well that's how they seem to me at least. In 1972 there was still room for the ordinary, sloppy, imperfect people.
