Dennis Hopper is properly designated as a film personality rather than as an actor because he essentially plays himself, regardless of role requirements, and as with most performers of that type, Hopper is seldom able to rise above the quality of his material; therefore, when a production is as poorly written as in this instance, it can be no surprise that his showing is preordained to be awkward, at best. As action opens, a contract hit is being arranged to dispose of veteran Los Angeles Police Department homicide detective Harry "Nails" Niles and his partner Jack, and while it is never explained why, it is possibly not worth knowing and, soon after, the two whiskey swilling (while on duty) lawmen are uncannily duped into an ambush which they stupidly abet by not requesting assistance, Jack thereby being gunned down. This naturally disturbs Niles who, still in clothing saturated with Jack's blood, meets with his estranged wife (Anne Archer) for a session of role playing sex, after which he grimly proceeds to locate his ex-partner's killer, additionally discovering in the process a large-scale heroin smuggling operation, and whereas his investigative methods are brutal, there is no longer a question of their appropriateness, due to his suspension from duty. Shot atmospherically by cinematographer Mac Ahlberg in Los Angeles and Santa Monica, and smoothly edited by Michael Knue, the film's screenplay reveals a complete lack of knowledge regarding policing procedures along with wholesale failings in logic, and while many of the supporting cast are clearly enjoying their turns, acting honours go to Cuban Tomas Milian as a detective nearing retirement cajoled into aiding Niles, an ably created part but not nearly enough to save this poorly directed and scripted affair.
