Back in 1966, Paul Newman enjoyed one of his biggest critical and commercial successes by getting into the private-eye genre in HARPER, as Lew Harper (Lew Archer, actually, in the Ross McDonald novel "The Moving Target" upon which that film was based). With his caginess and oftentimes-sardonic wit, Newman's Harper solved a complex Southern California kidnapping case revolving around a missing millionaire that virtually nobody liked. And then in 1975, he ventured down to New Orleans on another case, and a trip to THE DROWNING POOL.
In this one, Newman's Harper is called down to The Big Easy by an old flame of his, Iris Devereaux (Joanne Woodward, alias Newman's missus) to investigate the ex-chauffeur ((Andy Robinson) who has, according to her, been sending her threatening notes of the blackmail variety. Naturally, the more he digs into the Devereaux family, the more complex this case gets. The family is involved in a fierce war with an unctuous oil baron, one J. Hugh Kilbourne (Murray Hamilton) over land the family owns but that Hamilton wants because of a big petroleum reserve underfoot. Then there's the issue of Woodward's Lolita-ish kid Schuyler (Melanie Griffith, in an early role); the local police chief (Tony Franciosa) who has taken a strong interest in the welfare of the family; Franciosa's ambitious and duplicitous lieutenant (Richard Jaeckel); and the seedier side of life as represented by Hamilton's wife (Gail Strickland), who claims that her husband may, how shall we say, not be altogether upstairs. All of this leads Newman into some fairly dark corners, and into the Drowning Pool of the film's title, a hydrotherapy room at a sanitarium where Hamilton once went for The Treatment, but which Hamilton had purchased. Hamilton and his crony (Paul Koslo) subject both Newman and Strickland to The Treatment to force Newman to reveal the whereabouts of an account book with seedy financial disclosures involving Hamilton. All of this is wrapped into a very complex screenplay co-written by Walter Hill (48 HRS.).
As is with quite a lot of what Newman did throughout his career, THE DROWING POOL sees the great actor as being top-notch. His director here is Stuart Rosenberg, who worked with him on his Oscar-nominated role in the title character of COOL HAND LUKE in 1967, as well as 1970's WUSA and 1972's POCKET MONEY. And while Rosenberg may not necessarily be a standout director, or Lew Harper another Sam Spade or Phillip Marlowe, he is quite a character as Newman essays him. The supporting cast, particularly Hamilton in a role infinitely more uncouth than the greedy venal mayor he was in JAWS, and Franciosa's no-nonsense cop ("Mister, you don't belch without my knowin' about it"), is also quite good, as is Michael Small's New Orleans-centric music score (interpolating the Charles Fox/Norman Gimbel song "Killing Me Softly"). Finally, it's a great thing to see the husband-and-wife team of Newman and Woodward onscreen; their characters try to rekindle a romance six years in the past, though Newman doesn't know how it'll end badly for both of them.
This is a very good revisiting of Newman to the P. I. genre, a return that he'd make only one more time in his career (under a different character) in the 1998 Robert Benton-directed film TWILIGHT. THE DROWNING POOL gets a rating of '8' from me.
In this one, Newman's Harper is called down to The Big Easy by an old flame of his, Iris Devereaux (Joanne Woodward, alias Newman's missus) to investigate the ex-chauffeur ((Andy Robinson) who has, according to her, been sending her threatening notes of the blackmail variety. Naturally, the more he digs into the Devereaux family, the more complex this case gets. The family is involved in a fierce war with an unctuous oil baron, one J. Hugh Kilbourne (Murray Hamilton) over land the family owns but that Hamilton wants because of a big petroleum reserve underfoot. Then there's the issue of Woodward's Lolita-ish kid Schuyler (Melanie Griffith, in an early role); the local police chief (Tony Franciosa) who has taken a strong interest in the welfare of the family; Franciosa's ambitious and duplicitous lieutenant (Richard Jaeckel); and the seedier side of life as represented by Hamilton's wife (Gail Strickland), who claims that her husband may, how shall we say, not be altogether upstairs. All of this leads Newman into some fairly dark corners, and into the Drowning Pool of the film's title, a hydrotherapy room at a sanitarium where Hamilton once went for The Treatment, but which Hamilton had purchased. Hamilton and his crony (Paul Koslo) subject both Newman and Strickland to The Treatment to force Newman to reveal the whereabouts of an account book with seedy financial disclosures involving Hamilton. All of this is wrapped into a very complex screenplay co-written by Walter Hill (48 HRS.).
As is with quite a lot of what Newman did throughout his career, THE DROWING POOL sees the great actor as being top-notch. His director here is Stuart Rosenberg, who worked with him on his Oscar-nominated role in the title character of COOL HAND LUKE in 1967, as well as 1970's WUSA and 1972's POCKET MONEY. And while Rosenberg may not necessarily be a standout director, or Lew Harper another Sam Spade or Phillip Marlowe, he is quite a character as Newman essays him. The supporting cast, particularly Hamilton in a role infinitely more uncouth than the greedy venal mayor he was in JAWS, and Franciosa's no-nonsense cop ("Mister, you don't belch without my knowin' about it"), is also quite good, as is Michael Small's New Orleans-centric music score (interpolating the Charles Fox/Norman Gimbel song "Killing Me Softly"). Finally, it's a great thing to see the husband-and-wife team of Newman and Woodward onscreen; their characters try to rekindle a romance six years in the past, though Newman doesn't know how it'll end badly for both of them.
This is a very good revisiting of Newman to the P. I. genre, a return that he'd make only one more time in his career (under a different character) in the 1998 Robert Benton-directed film TWILIGHT. THE DROWNING POOL gets a rating of '8' from me.