Demi-noir British crime flick. Showman-turned-private dick Eddie Ginley (Finney) on the trail of bungling underworld drugs and guns racketeers. Lean, taught, with quick silver dialogue, the whole woven together with a punchy, acerbic score by a young Andrew Lloyd Webber. Worth watching a couple of times to catch the full nuances of the plot and, of course, to see again the fabulous Billie Whitelaw. Very highly recommended.
'Gumshoe' was Stephen Frears's first director credit. In an interview amongst the disc's extras he is frank about the film's shortcomings. Most telling of all is the way that it falls between the two stools of comedy and thriller.
Eddie's would-be Chandleresque lines have not stood the test of time and come across as lame parody. After a while they become plain irritating! The humour is weak and it detracts from the rather complicated thriller plot.
Frears clearly learnt a lot from the experience of making 'Gumshoe' and many of his later films are classics (a personal favourite is 'The Grifters', which is a crime thriller that is everything 'Gumshoe' is not).
Despite all this, 'Gumshoe' is an interesting period piece, mainly due to its fine cast. Billie Whitelaw lights up the screen whenever she appears, and there are fun cameos by the likes of Fulton McKay, Maureen Lipman, Wendy Richards and the go-to man for Scouser parts, Billy Dean.
It's interesting to note that 'Gumshoe' came out in the same year as 'Get Carter', an altogether more timeless and effective British crime movie.
The routine use of racist language is also, thankfully, of its time.
It's a little surprising how many directors over the years have attempted to pastiche the private eye films of the 1940s. This is the most successful. Albert Finney is a bingo caller/comedian who whimsically places an ad in the Liverpool Echo offering his services as PI. But as this is northern England, not LA, he is the sort of gumshoe who travels by bus.
His first case begins with an anonymous phone call, and soon he is opening a mysterious package containing a gun and a large bundle of folding money. And he finds himself investigating his own brother (Frank Finlay), a mercenary businessman recently married to the heartbroken sleuth's former squeeze (Billie Whitelaw).
The film's ace card is the script. The fast, snappy crosstalk that Finney employs to better emulate the celluloid heroes of film noir is witty and pretty funny. And there are cute plot similarities with The Big Sleep and The Maltese Falcon to amuse the film buffs. The location shoot around Merseyside, plus appearances by local actors, add some regional character.
The twisty plot is fine, if not particularly inspired. It's just an excuse for Finney to make like Humphrey Bogart and pull out his gat. But beneath the droll repartee, there is a deep layer of melancholy that makes the film more satisfying than the usual spoof. There is a sadness to this night club comic who finds solace in fantasy, because reality is such a disappointment.