Well, this is a nice surprise.
Beloved literary characters rarely get a second chance, if their debut leap to the big screen is sabotaged by arrogant studio execs catering to the whims of a Hot Star Of The Moment.
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| Fletch (Jon Hamm) isn't quite sure what to make of the larger-than-life Countess Sylvia de Grassi (Marcia Gay Harden), particularly since she's apt to become his future mother-in-law. |
The late and greatly lamented Sue Grafton, author of the beloved Kinsey Milhone “alphabet mysteries,” famously refused to entertain any sort of screen adaptation. She knew full well, having worked in Hollywood earlier in her career, how often a property gets ruined by meddling hands determined to “improve” a writer’s work.
At first blush, Chevy Chase seemed an ideal choice as Gregory McDonald’s rogue investigative journalist, Irwin Maurice Fletcher, and 1985’s Fletch was tolerable. But the deplorable 1989 sequel succumbed to Chase’s disguise-overkill vanity, and the character subsequently languished in development hell.
Until now.
Jon Hamm is spot-on as Fletch, radiating grizzled charm and just enough snark; his comic timing is well-suited to this amusing script’s many cheeky, insubordinate and downright smart-assed one-liners.
Director Greg Mottola, admired ever since 2009’s under-appreciated Adventureland, has just the right touch for this material. He and co-scripter Zev Borow simplified the book a bit, and introduced some different supporting characters, but all essential plot points are in place; in several cases, they even retained McDonald’s dialogue.
The story opens in Rome, where Fletch has become engaged to the voluptuous Angela de Grassi (Lorenza Izzo), whose father has been kidnapped; the ransom demand is a Picasso from the Count’s famed art collection. Unfortunately, other parties unknown have stolen the entire collection, which leaves Angela frantic.
She asks Fletch to liaise with an art broker in Boston, where the Picasso is rumored to have surfaced. He duly flies to Boston, arriving late in the evening; he walks into the apartment Angela has arranged for his stay … and finds a dead woman in the living room.
Fletch duly calls the police — an amusing conversation that sets the tone for what will follow — and soon finds himself in the cynical cross-hairs of Inspector Morris Monroe (Roy Wood Jr.) and his recently minted partner, Griz (Ayden Mayeri).
(Morris is a replacement for the book’s Inspector Flynn, who is missed … but no matter.)
Monroe, genuinely puzzled when Fletch stubbornly refuses to confess to what seems an obvious case of murder, nonetheless has no obvious evidence to hold his prime suspect. This leaves Fletch free to pursue the Picasso, while also trying to figure out who did kill the young woman, soon identified as Laurel Goodwin.
The trail leads to high-end art broker Ronald Horan (Kyle MacLachlan), who promises to suss out his contacts. (We sense they’re not all legitimate.) Fletch’s subsequent sleuthing activities are hampered not merely by the constant police presence, but also the unexpected arrival of his soon-to-be mother-in-law, the Countess Sylvia de Grassi (Marcia Gay Harden).
The primary running gag — and it’s a good one — is the dynamic between Hamm and Mayeri. Griz, wanting to prove herself, is desperate to be taken seriously, which is catnip to Fletch’s mischievous side; he takes every opportunity to evade, undermine and generally bedevil her.
Mayeri’s performance has shades of subtlety. Although Griz initially regards Fletch with contempt and annoyance, there’s a sense — as events proceed — that she comes to reluctantly admire his moxie and tenacity.
Wood is less fortunate. Monroe is introduced as a resourceful, similarly disapproving sparring partner, but soon the character’s exaggerated focus on new fatherhood turns him into a silly sight gag.
Harden is a stitch as the aristocratic, mildly pompous Countess: a rare individual who’s able to mimic — and even surmount — Fletch’s arch smugness. We suspect, from Hamm’s wary gaze, that Fletch half-worries she might try to devour him.
David Arnold’s jazz-inflected score is supplemented by a variety of genre classics that include Horace Silver’s “Señor Blues,” Ike Quebec’s “Goin’ Home” and Chet Baker’s “Let’s Get Lost.”
The plot isn’t particularly deep, and the shortage of potential suspects makes the outcome fairly easy to anticipate. This is a case where the journey is more important — and entertaining — than the destination. Hamm capably carries the film, and it would be great to see him reprise the role.
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