LEGAL EAGLES: Blu-ray (Universal, 1986) Kino Lorber

Two mid-80’s pop tarts, one – Debra Winger, whose career was decidedly on the wane, the other, Darryl Hannah’s, gaining traction, co-star against a true legend in his own time, Robert Redford, in director, Ivan Reitman’s Legal Eagles (1986), a real mishmash of a thriller, desperate to be taken seriously, either as a rom/com or subdued suspense movie. More talk than action here – all to the good. Problem: writers, Jim Cash and Jack Epps simply cannot make up their minds which direction to take. Hence, Manhattan DA, Tom Logan (Redford) winds up investigating two murders, sleeping with performance artiste, Chelsea Deardon (Hannah) – who also happens to be the defendant – but also falling in love with slapdash attorney-at-law, Laura Kelly (Winger). Neither is up to Tom’s standards, although there is not much to recommend the previous Mrs. Logan, Barbara (Sara Botsford), whose bitter and quick to judge personality already deems Tom unfit to co-parenting their pre-teen daughter, Jennie (Jennifer Dundas). Chelsea’s a manipulative flake, indulging in artful pyrotechnics that hark back to a bad childhood memory (something about her celebrated father perishing in an arson’s blaze to which she was privy, but is now very sketchy on the details). Conversely, Laura is a bottom-feeding courthouse bumbler, using lowbrow and transparent tactics to whitewash a jury. Aside: she actually once tried to put a dog on the witness stand, and, is presently representing a client whose enviable stockpile of home electronics would make a Best Buy blush, with the defense, his extended family made a bequest of all this merch’ at his 50^th birthday bash.  A sincere wonder, Laura has not been disbarred for bad taste and just plain dumb decision-making.

Legal Eagles is a movie you walk away from, erroneously to believe it was better than it actually is, and sincerely wish, upon further reflection, you were right. The smoke and mirrors here is largely owed Redford’s slick, if laid back, cock-of-the-walk attorney, Elmer Bernstein’s Miss Marple-esque underscore – cagey, though noncommittal, and, László Kovács’ stylish cinematography (utterly sabotaged in hi-def. More on this later on). This was Reitman’s first movie since the runaway blockbuster, Ghostbusters (1984) and, at $40 million (then, among the costliest yet produced in Hollywood), a genuine disappointment. Legal Eagles only earned back $49,851,591 domestically, leaving the international market to pick up the tab with another $43,300,000 tacked on for good measure. At just under 2-hours, Legal Eagles had the potential to be a great caper. Instead, it’s all over the place with half-baked ideas, needless misdirection, and, a writing style that begins snappily enough, but then succumbs to the perfunctory urge simply to connect the dots and get the job done. It does not help that, under the opening credits, in a flashback sequence set in 1968, we are led astray into believing millionaire/philanthropist, Forrester (John McMartin) has murdered Chelsea’s artist/father, Sebastian Dearden (Robert Hurdle), setting fire to his cavernous studio where only hours earlier, this was the scene of young Chelsea’s (Mary Alison Griffin) eighth birthday bash.

Fire is a reoccurring theme in this picture, but so obtusely exploited for its visual flair and incinerating destruction, one has to ponder whether Ivan Reitman enjoyed playing with matches as a child. There are two major arsonist’s fires, the aforementioned, and, another to bookend the picture inside Manhattan’s fashionable Taft Art Gallery. We also get a common oven fire in Tom’s apartment (because Tom can’t cook), adult Chelsea’s ‘performance art’ (she magically torches a giant cake, a doll’s house and a life-size portrait and statue of herself made of translucent papier mâché), and, a needlessly epic explosion at an off-site repository owned by the highly suspicious, Victor Taft (Terence Stamp), who plants the incendiary device that narrowly, if unknowingly, misses killing Tom and Laura. Honestly, if, as we are led to believe, all Vic is after is the obfuscation of a handful of ancient documents contained in a few filing cabinets, then an Office Max paper shredder would have been the way to go here - not this terrorist-like obliteration of an entire warehouse, presumably also to contain some very pricey artwork.

Legal Eagles possesses some directorial agility in maneuvering its stars through the convoluted labyrinth that is its storyline. Alas, Reitman’s flick-a-doodle is just a series of disjointed vignettes, merely appearing to add up when little, if anything, is really going on behind closed doors.  We are introduced to red herrings like Taft and Forrester, whose intentions, while not honorable, are far from blood-thirsty. There is also no point to several sequences, like Laura’s idiotic defense of Mr. Marchek (David Hart), whose 23 cousins have testified to supplying him with ‘gifts’ of clearly ‘stolen’ merchandise for his birthday. Barbara’s faux indignation at discovering a half-dressed and sopping wet Chelsea (newly arrived at Tom’s apartment from the pouring rain) with Jennie present is a non-starter. And Chelsea’s aforementioned ‘performance art’ sequence – while cleverly staged – is just filler to bridge the gap between two chase sequences. Chelsea’s pyrotechnic display might have worked as weirded out foreplay, as Chelsea is clearly not all that stable, and decidedly even less truthful about her motives where Tom is concerned. Tom and Chelsea do eventually hit the sheets. But it's pretty passionless, and, again a bridge to carry us from one plot point to the next – just something (or rather, ‘someone’) to do in between digging up exculpatory evidence and going to jail.

The whodunit aspects of the movie suffer from Cash and Epps’ fraudulent attempts to create stylish subterfuge. Again, it all looks good thanks to László Kovács. But good-looking does not a great movie make. And, once the hypnosis of these stylized visuals fades from memory, Legal Eagles emerges as a barely coherent entertainment. The writers are working backwards from Reitman’s brainstorm (or brain fart) to concoct a thriller that brings the law and the world of high art under scrutiny. Reitman originally envisioned this as a buddy/buddy vehicle for Dustin Hoffman and Bill Murray. Alas, Murray had no interest. So, Reitman turned to Redford – an odd second choice. While recognizing the possibilities, Redford wanted to do a feather-weight rom/com instead. And thus, Hoffman’s character morphed into Laura Kelly with Reitman endeavoring to do a Spencer Tracy/Kate Hepburn styled dramedy of the sexes. Reitman then turned to time-honored screenwriter, Tom Mankiewicz to jazz up Cash and Epp’s prose. From this executive decision, Reitman also decided he would direct the picture himself. And to give Reitman his props, it’s not a fatal decision either. Reitman’s style is slick and sassy. It works…to a point. But again, the meandering loose ends in this wooly mammoth of a tale get knotted rather than ironed out in the end.

The plot begins in earnest. Although the flashback is dated 1968, the hairdos adorning most of the extras, gyrating to The Rascal’s Good Lovin’ inside Sebastian’s artist’s loft look suspicious of the time in which this movie was made. In attendance are Forrester and Taft.  After Sebastian bestows his latest artistic creation on his daughter for her eighth birthday, Chelsea is whisked away by a nanny (Olivia Ward) to the adjacent upstairs apartment, though not before she witnesses an altercation involving Sebastian, Forrester and Taft. Fast forward to the wee hours of the morning. The party disbanded, shadowy figures roam about, setting fire to the highly flammable paints and half-empty bottles and glasses of booze left behind by the revelers.  In an instant, the studio becomes an inferno. Taft bursts into Chelsea’s bedroom, spiriting her away in his arms. But the painting Sebastian bequeathed to her is gone. Taft now shouts to Forrester from a balcony to escape the blaze with all speed. We see Sebastian, lying disoriented on the floor, casting his gaze upward in time to witness a heavy beam dislodge from the ceiling, crushing him to death.

Flash forward to a TV newscast documenting the blaze on the eve of its 25th anniversary. Chelsea Deardon (now played by Darryl Hannah) has been arrested for attempting to steal the painting she claims is hers, presently in Forrester’s possession. Tom Logan’s appreciation for the story is cut short by his daughter, Jennie who turns off their set. There is some polite father/daughter banter to establish Tom as a good dad. But this ends when he nearly burns down the kitchen trying to make breakfast. One catastrophe narrowly avoided, another is brewing at the office when Tom learns from assistant, Carol Freeman (Christine Baranski) he has an impromptu court date opposite Laura Kelly, presently defending Mr. Marchek for the apparent peddling of stolen goods. The trial is a fiasco for Laura. But afterward, she hits up Tom, imploring him to have an off-the-record chat with her latest client, Chelsea Deardon. Tom refuses. Laura threatens to make a scene. Tom is unmoved. At lunch, Tom is informed by the present DA, Bower (Steven Hill) he intends to nominated Tom as his successor. It will be announced at the annual banquet where Tom is keynote speaker. Alas, Laura seizes this opportunity to hold a press conference with Chelsea in tow, claiming the DA’s office is stonewalling Chelsea’s chances for a fair trial. To quash the immediate scandal, Bower gets Tom to intercede. In front of reporters, Tom promises to give the matter the utmost consideration, then, almost immediately has serious misgivings he is being set up by Chelsea and Laura.

Indeed, Chelsea offers Tom nothing beyond several easily exposed obfuscations of the truth, including a claim she is in possession of her late father’s diary, clearly to infer the painting belongs to her. Tom presses on with Laura. They visit Forrester, only to be informed he has since traded the Deardon for a Picasso. When pressed, Forrester directs Tom and Laura to Taft’s fashionable Manhattan gallery to confirm the trade. Taft is gracious, but cautious, as he allows Laura and Tom to inspect the Deardon. Chelsea previously told Laura and Tom the back of the painting contains Sebastian’s handwritten inscription to her – proof, it was a gift. Alas, the painting Taft shows Laura and Tom contains no such inscription. Afterwards, Laura suggests Taft has deliberately shown them the wrong painting. A sleepless night follows with Tom and Laura separately unable to lay this mystery to rest. The next morning, police detective, Cavanaugh (Brian Dennehy), who previously investigated the Deardon fire, offers Laura his case file, containing highly classified insurance manifests outlining what paintings were supposedly destroyed in the fire in 1968. Among them, the painting now in Taft’s possession.

Armed with this evidence, Laura and Tom confront Taft at an art auction. This time, he is not only dismissive, but threatening. In reply, Tom lays down the law…literally. Either Taft produce the appropriate documentation for all of his gallery’s current holdings, including the Deardon, or face an injunction to seize his property and assets. Laura and Tom trail Taft to his New Jersey warehouse where he plants a bomb to destroy all evidence of the insurance fraud – a scheme involving Forrest and another man, Joseph Brock. Unaware he has been followed, Taft inadvertently traps Tom and Laura in the warehouse with his hasty departure.  Tom uses a forklift to break down the loading bay doors moments before the entirely property goes up in a tinderbox of flames. Sometime later, Tom is still quite disturbed by the events of the day, more so, when Chelsea arrives at his apartment, claiming to have been followed by a mysterious man. Tom drives Chelsea back to her apartment where she entertains him with her latest piece of performance art. Afterward, Tom takes notice of a man (Gary Klar) half-concealed in a nearby doorway. However, when he attempts to confront him, the man shoots at Tom before vanishing into the night.

An apoplectic Chelsea again turns up at Tom’s place, this time, explaining how she went to Taft's residence to order him to confess at gunpoint, only to have Taft disarm her and send her packing. Logan is empathetic. Clearly, there is a lot more to this case than initially met the eye. But sleep with Chelsea?!? Yes, a seduction occurs. Unfortunately, at dawn the police break into Tom’s apartment to discover he and Chelsea still in bed. Apparently, Taft has turned up with a bullet in his back. So, did Chelsea murder Taft? As, this represents a clear ‘conflict of interest’ and scandal for the DA’s office, Bower immediately fires Tom.  Laura puts Tom to work at her meager firm. Together, they make Chelsea Deardon their top priority. Laura is momentarily wounded by Tom’s shortsightedness to sleep with their defendant. At Chelsea’s arraignment, she suffers a memory flashback and openly blames Forrester for murdering her father. Perhaps, although shortly thereafter, Forrest is also found dead. When the mysterious hitman, previously taken his potshot at Tom outside of Chelsea’s apartment, suddenly resurfaces, this time intent on running down Tom and Laura with his car in the street, the resultant attempt on their lives ends with the hitman dying in a crash instead. Tom searches the body and finds Forrester’s business card among the personal effects.

Laura and Chelsea agree to meet Tom at Taft’s gallery, presently hosting a lavish soiree. Alas, when Tom arrives at the police station to collect Cavanaugh, he discovers the real Det. C.J. Cavanaugh (Charles Brown) is a black man. The man who earlier introduced himself ‘as’ Cavanagh is actually Joe Brock – the third wheel in the Taft, Forrester conspiracy, and the one who set the fire that killed Chelsea’s father. Brock takes Laura and Chelsea hostage at Taft’s gallery. Now, they skulk about the stockroom in search of the consignment of rare Deardon paintings, miraculously to have survived the ’68 fire.  Brock now sets fire to Taft’s gallery, driving its panicked hoity-toity patrons into the street, but trapping Chelsea and Laura in the blaze. Tom arrives and heroically manages to dispatch Brock and save the ladies from certain death. An ebullient Bower arrives on the scene. As Tom is now a hero, Bower promises to get him his old job back, as well as the previously promised promotion. Tom, however, has had a taste of something better and turns Bower’s offer down. The film concludes with Laura and Tom becoming highly sought after ‘legal eagles’ – the inklings of a romance brewing between them as Chelsea holds a press conference, now exonerated of all crimes.

Legal Eagles is chocked so full of red herrings it becomes quite impossible to follow the story, much less get a toe-hold on the ever-evolving roster of suspects and their motives. It’s all meant to suggest a cleverer ‘diversion’ than is actually there. Reitman’s insistence on keeping everything frothy, intermittently turns suspense into convoluted ‘chase scene’ gumbo. There is some romantic chemistry between Redford’s no-nonsense hot shot and Winger’s silly lawyer. But nothing going on behind the eyes of co-star, Darryl Hannah, who practically mimes her way through this slightly disturbed, thoroughly enterprising, and occasionally devious gal on who all motives appear to thoroughly suggest Chelsea’s guilt. Hannah is neither funny nor beguiling. Attractive enough, she is no more animated here than a department store mannequin, faintly to emanate ‘come hither’, though never moving beyond that invitation. The best scenes in Legal Eagles shows off Cash and Epps’ ability to write crisp dialogue. This stings while advancing the plot. In those instances, Legal Eagles crackles with wit and humor on the cusp of delivering something far greater than the sum of its parts. Alas, all too soon, the writing gets sloppy, the performances, sloppier still, and, the showcase shifts from intellectual sleuthing to crassly assembled set pieces. While some of these are impressive from a technical standpoint, they detract from what is otherwise a nice little drawing room rom/com with mediocre badinage between its stars.

Legal Eagles arrives on Blu-ray in what can only be considered one of the absolutely worst looking 1080p transfers yet provided to Kino Lorber by Universal Home Video. Where to begin? Maybe with the persistent telecine wobble. This causes the entire anamorphic image to wiggle and writhe from side to side. It’s ever-present and not just from scene-to-scene, but shot-to-shot. Then there’s film grain to consider. Thick and distracting in establishing shots, more refined in medium two shots, and virtually non-existent in close-ups. Grain never looks natural here. Just gritty. The artificially sharpened image also contains glaring edge enhancements that distract. Then, there’s contrast: boosted. Blacks lose all detail and whites bloom. Color? Flesh tones are either orange or piggy pink. Color saturation and balancing shifts, again, not from scene-to-scene, but shot-to-shot. The palette appears not to have suffered untoward manipulations. But it all looks rather dated, and far more so than it ought. Reds bleed, causing distracting halos in pan and dolly shots. Honestly, Uni needs to start caring about its catalog. Legal Eagles is hardly a classic. But it’s not old either. This transfer is just ugly and unrefined – a total fail. The 2.0 DTS audio is adequate – though just. Dialogue is crisp. Effects burst forth with good spatial separation. Elmer Bernstein’s bouncy underscore sounds fine. The only extras are a vintage ‘making of’ – badly worn, and, a theatrical trailer. Bottom line: Legal Eagles will never be considered ‘fine cinema art’. It is, however, an abysmal offering on Blu-ray that should be avoided at all costs. Regrets.

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

2.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

1

EXTRAS

1