Review of Marlowe

Raymond Chandler's private dick Philip Marlowe from the 1940s is plunked down rather unceremoniously in the swinging late-1960s, with lethargic results. Based on Chandler's book "The Little Sister", this bland detective yarn starring James Garner doesn't even have a visually interesting production to recommend it. Paul Bogart's direction is torpid, and the writing equally unexcitable (the filmmakers here don't have an appreciation for Marlowe's roots--he's a square straight-shooter who isn't updated for the new era, and the irony is lost on everybody). The dry deadpan humor perhaps set the stage for Garner's TV series "The Rockford Files"--but raked out over an entire film, the cheeky asides just seem smug. Bruce Lee steals the spotlight in a bit as a karate-kicking henchman; otherwise, pretty tired. *1/2 from ****