Review of Marlowe
Marlowe (2023) Dir. Neil Jordan
With a recent rewatch of Polanski’s Chinatown under my belt, in prep for a first time watch of its belated, and pretty terrible, sequel The Two Jakes (out this month on Blu-Ray) I was fully prepped for another hard-boiled detective exploring the lies and deceit of 30s Los Angeles.
This particular noir thriller is based on The Black-Eyed Blonde by John Banvill (2014) which was part of an authorised anthology of Marlowe novels inspired by the character originally created by Raymond Chandler.
Here we have Liam Neeson (mostly lost these days to low budget video-on-demand action flicks) as Marlowe, who is visited by a secretive blonde (Diane Kruger as Clare Cavendish) that asks the “dick” to investigate the disappearance of her missing lover.
He later turns up deceased but after hearing about a sighting of the man after his death, Marlowe thinks there’s more to this story despite the police not wanting to reopen any case.
Fighting with gardeners, visiting uppity heiresses in opulent mansions and with plenty of conflicts with various authorities and gangsters - the genre tropes are all there and sadly there’s not much more really.
A jaded plot has a number of lacklustre twists as the detective discovers the disappearance/death is related to drug lords, henchmen and, of course, duplicitous dames.
The film’s finest attribute is seeing Liam Neeson not as an ex-security man seeking violent revenge on someone (seen recently in garbage like Honest Thief, The Marksman, The Ice Road, Blacklight and more). Neeson’s weathered face looks suitably fatigued as a man who has seen far too much and, as always, the bright sunny city is at odds with the dark underbelly of socialites and club owners.
He’s also helped along by an experienced support cast of stalwarts including Jessica Lange, Danny Huston, Alan Cumming and Colm Meaney.
Marlowe plays out in mostly stilted one to one conversations - which, to be fair, is standard for this type of movie - yet doesn’t add much (anything?) to the formula. It’s pure Netflix filler in most cases.
Director Jordan (whose last film Greta was a guilty pleasure harking back to the thrillers of the 90s) captures the period well with great sets, locations and the obligatory sepia-toned colour grading. But again, there’s little filmmaking flair to raise it above any other bygone mystery. At best it reminds me of the flawed and dull The Black Dahlia - and at worst, the silly excess of Gangster Squad.
So, much like Marlowe trying to loosen peoples' tongues, Jordan’s film tries to loosen the cliches of the genre but sadly, despite good intentions, there’s not a lot outside a tiresome tale which is not helped by a narrow and blunt filmmaking style.
★★½
2.5/5
Michael Sales
