Schlemiel Quartet

By J.C.

THE HOT ROCK

Directed by PETER YATES Screenplay by WILLIAM GOLDMAN

Years ago, when Edmund Wilson wrote an acerbic essay on mystery novels, his title -- and his theme -- was "Who Cares Who Killed Roger Ackroyd?" The same skepticism might be directed toward a subspecies of the mystery genre known as the caper story, wherein a skilled handful of professionals try to steal a certain invaluable object from a certain impregnable fortress. The trouble with such yarns is that they tend to be about mechanics, not people. Unable to believe in the characters, who could care that the fuse won't light or the tumblers won't fall?

The Hot Rock apparently aimed to be the caper movie to end them all. Unfortunately, it probably won't. William Goldman has transferred the patty-cake banter of his Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid to contemporary New York City, where he unleashes a quartet of schlemiel heist men (Robert Redford, George Segal, Ron Leibman, Paul Sand). Their task is to lift a gem called the Sahara stone and turn it over to the pompous African diplomat (Moses Gunn) who contracted for the job. They go to a lot of elaborate trouble to break into places. The gimmick is that the stone is never where it is supposed to be.

The actors do little to enliven the improbable but predictable proceedings. Peter Yates keeps the general energy level so low that not even the masterly Zero Mostel, as a shyster lawyer, can lend any perceptible zest.

Yates and Goldman set a facetious tone throughout most of the film (Redford, admired by Segal for his "nerves of steel," suffers from gastritis). But the jokes do not so much supplement the tension as undercut it. Combining satire and suspense is a treacherous business. Only Hitchcock (as in North by Northwest) has really been able to manage it. His wit, visual sophistication and editorial wizardry are greatly missed in The Hot Rock.

-J.C.

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