Confess, Fletch. Film Review.

Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 7/10

Cast: Jon Hamm, Roy Wood Jr., Ayden Mayeri, Lorena Izzo, Kyle MacLachlan, Annie Mumolo, John Behlmann, Anna Osceola, John Slattery, Lucy Punch, Marcia Gay Harden, Robert Picardo, Eugene Mirman, Kenneth Kimmins, Caitlin Zerra Rose, Aaron Andrade, Travis Bennett, Nhumi Threadgill.

Fletch lived, briefly but with all the attention that Chevy Chase could muster in the two adaptions made for cinema when he was one of the undisputed kings of American film. Fletch lived, but cinema can be fickle, it can just as quickly destroy as it can create, and after 1989’s Fletch Lives became but a distant memory there was probably no hope that Gregory McDonald’s popular creation would project its neo-noir investigative detective would be back to confront the sins of those without a sense of humour again.

Gregory McDonald may have moved onto the great writing pool in the afterlife, and Chevy Chase has moved on from the sarcastic journalist to other roles in the 30 plus years since he was one of the go to comedian/actors who gave the Box office its successful run of business in the 1980s, but the motivation to adapt the other titles in the successful Fletch series has never truly dissipated, has not left the loyal fans of both the novels and the films.

Confess, Fletch is the revival of a series the fan perhaps never expected, and one that whilst entertains, does not have the same dynamic as its previous editions. In Jon Hamm the film has one of the most able actors donning the robes of Mr. Chase, but one that does not quite fit the expectation that comes with such a history; and that is the pity of it, for the story and the screenplay is written well, Jon Hamm is engaging, his co-stars resolutely perform with grace, especially Roy Wood Jr. and Ayden Mayeri in their respective roles of Inspector Morris Monroe and Griz, but the humour, the one element that the books and the 1980s films agreed upon, are either mysteriously missing, or in such short supply that a broad smile is offered when a belly laugh should guaranteed.

The film is deft, of that there is no argument, it is a stand-alone piece of cinematic enjoyment, a good plot, subtle accuracy of American social politics in the 21st Century, but it feels completely and utterly devoid of what made the other films a success, that belt to the britches humour that comedy requires; this is more akin to a serious drama than it is to wit and intelligent waggishness.

Even the attempt at translation, with Fletch insisting that he can speak Italian leaves little for the audience to embrace, indeed it comes off as weirdly distasteful that the words fumbled are grossly inflated to raise a laugh rather than a true insightful gag.

A pity that a much-loved franchise should be revived but with none of the passion that gave it its position of admired comedies. A different time maybe, but that is of little excuse when you are dealing with the memory of a legend.

Ian D. Hall