When it was released in 1973, "The Last of Sheila" hit me like a shot of Johnny Walker red the preferred snort of the Hollywood heiress played by Joan Hackett . Then, a few months ago, it turned up streaming on Netflix. I watched it again and enjoyed it so thoroughly that I chose it several months later to watch with a house guest– a friend who knows so little about movies that, during "Dial M for Murder," he asked, "Who's that actress?" He enjoyed it, too, enough to discuss it afterward–- something I applaud even though I agree with this pithy bit of <more> dialog spat out by a magnificent James Coburn: "We don't want this topic to degenerate to the discussion phase." "Sheila" is a murder mystery that begins with Sheila herself getting killed in a hit-and-run. That happens before the opening credits. Then her marvelously malevolent widower, a movie producer James Coburn , sets out to nail the killer. He invites six Hollywood friends for a Mediterranean cruise on his yacht. Once on board, he involves them in an elaborate game to play as an amusement. They don't know it, but the real point of the game is diabolical: to find out who killed Sheila, because Coburn knows that one of them ran her down. It happened during a party that they all attended, and they all had motives. Indeed, the point of the movie, in a way, is that everyone in heartless Hollywood has a motive to kill everyone else. Upon arrival at the yacht, he hands each of the six a card on which is written "You are a
" followed by a personal secret, something "not too light": Shoplifter, Homosexual, Ex-Convict, Informer, Little Child Molester, and Alcoholic. S,H,E,I,L,A— though the players don't notice that because they haven't yet seen each other's cards .The game involves everyone finding out the others' assigned secrets, and first up is the Shoplifter. Each player is given the same clue– a key with "Sterling 18K" stamped on it– to find out who has the Shoplifter card. With that clue they are ferried to shore to find the answer. Without giving too much away, I can say that the Shoplifter card was assigned to James Mason, but one of the women characters was actually arrested some years earlier for shoplifting a fur coat. She therefore realizes that something more than a harmless game is afoot. The card she holds, Homosexual, is obviously someone else's real secret.Before it's all over, three characters are dead, courtesy of two others, and there are two additional murder attempts, perpetrated by separate players with separate motives.The screenplay is altogether unique, co-authored as it is by two very famous men, neither of whom wrote any other screenplays, alone or together: Stephen Sondheim and Anthony Perkins. The plot is entirely consistent with the friends' fondness for elaborate game-playing. Their dialog is brisk, witty, and delightfully vicious. Except for the predictably wooden work of Richard Benjamin, the performances are sparkling. Dyan Cannon grabs her juicy part with both hands, while Raquel Welch delivers her juicy parts in a bikini. Ultimately, though, the movie belongs to the two Jameses, Coburn and Mason. Mason's character– who shares many traits with Humbert Humbert, including the most obvious– is an aging director who ultimately unravels the mystery.Saying more means revealing more, and Sheila's tangled web is best woven before a viewer's eyes without advance knowledge. The only thing I will add is that the film was shot on location on French Riviera. The principal murder takes place in a wonderfully gloomy old site which, I suspect, is the fortified monastery of Ile Saint-Honorat, near Cannes. Gamesmanship is evident even in that choice: a suitable spot for an unholy picture about Hollywood. <less> |