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Hero at Large
Despite an utterly charming performance from the late John Ritter in the starring role, 1980's Hero at Large is a dull and predictable comedy that suffers from a swiss cheese screenplay and lethargic direction. The Marvel comic book movies age we live in today makes this look pretty lame.
Ritter plays Steve Nichols, a struggling actor who is making a few bucks making live appearances at movie theaters promoting a movie about this fictional superhero. One night while stopping at a store to buy milk, still in costume, he foils a robbery, which gains some attention for Steve but not much. He decides to go out and look for a crime to foil and finds himself in a high speed chase that climaxes with him getting shot in the arm. This is enough to send him into hiding with a pretty neighbor (Anne Archer), but changes his mind when a slick publicist (the late Bert Convy) they stage crimes for him to break up, in exchange for the role of Brick in a revival of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.
The screenplay by AJ Carothers (The Secret of My Success) attempts to cover a little too much territory as it not only tries to look into the business of show business, it also takes jabs at advertising, mob sensibility, and politics. Carothers seems to set up Nichols as a comic variation of Travis Bickle, as several references to the 1976 classic can be evidenced, including an appearance of the Mayor of New York, played by Leonard Harris, who played the Senator Bickle wanted to murder in the Scorsese classic and the cab stand that was the hangout for the cabbies in the film is also glanced here. Not sure of the connection that Carothers saw between the two movie, but it sure makes for an often squirm-worthy cinematic journey that moves at snail's pace to a finale that's too silly to be believed.
Martin Davidson's direction is unimaginative and makes the movie seem three hours long. Archer is a lovely leading lady but Convy and Kevin McCarthy's roles are thankless. And if you pay attention, there's a tiny cameo at the beginning of the film by Kevin Bacon that's equally pointless. Ritter's charisma helps to keep the viewer from dozing off.
Despite an utterly charming performance from the late John Ritter in the starring role, 1980's Hero at Large is a dull and predictable comedy that suffers from a swiss cheese screenplay and lethargic direction. The Marvel comic book movies age we live in today makes this look pretty lame.
Ritter plays Steve Nichols, a struggling actor who is making a few bucks making live appearances at movie theaters promoting a movie about this fictional superhero. One night while stopping at a store to buy milk, still in costume, he foils a robbery, which gains some attention for Steve but not much. He decides to go out and look for a crime to foil and finds himself in a high speed chase that climaxes with him getting shot in the arm. This is enough to send him into hiding with a pretty neighbor (Anne Archer), but changes his mind when a slick publicist (the late Bert Convy) they stage crimes for him to break up, in exchange for the role of Brick in a revival of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.
The screenplay by AJ Carothers (The Secret of My Success) attempts to cover a little too much territory as it not only tries to look into the business of show business, it also takes jabs at advertising, mob sensibility, and politics. Carothers seems to set up Nichols as a comic variation of Travis Bickle, as several references to the 1976 classic can be evidenced, including an appearance of the Mayor of New York, played by Leonard Harris, who played the Senator Bickle wanted to murder in the Scorsese classic and the cab stand that was the hangout for the cabbies in the film is also glanced here. Not sure of the connection that Carothers saw between the two movie, but it sure makes for an often squirm-worthy cinematic journey that moves at snail's pace to a finale that's too silly to be believed.
Martin Davidson's direction is unimaginative and makes the movie seem three hours long. Archer is a lovely leading lady but Convy and Kevin McCarthy's roles are thankless. And if you pay attention, there's a tiny cameo at the beginning of the film by Kevin Bacon that's equally pointless. Ritter's charisma helps to keep the viewer from dozing off.