Review of They Only Kill Their Masters

The small seaside town at the heart of "They Only Kill Their Masters" keeps promising to become its own character within the film (or, at the very least, a red herring). With it's ocean-front home belonging to a kinky divorcée (whose body washed up on the beach), its neighborhood restaurants and watering holes, its veterinary office with a waiting room full of barking dogs, and a half-empty police station where chief James Garner works, the movie has the look of an old-fashioned detective yarn: charmingly phony and contrived. Garner, sheepishly resigned to his post peopled by semi-competent underlings, slowly unravels peculiar case of a dead woman who had recently kicked her husband out to be with another woman (or so she said!). There are some clever dialogue exchanges here, as well as some tasteless ones (the bit about a woman's bitten breast is a low-point). Garner shuffles about, occasionally breaking up a fight or cooking dinner for Katharine Ross, a pretty working girl who may be a suspect (her naked rear end could provide a clue!). Diverting entertainment, though not especially memorable or cunning. The plot pieces do fall together (sort of), and it's satisfying on a minor level. ** from ****