The Dain Curse (1978)

Someone, back in the misty reaches of 1977-78, had a pretty good idea: Take Dashiell Hammett's "The Dain Curse" and turn it into a TV mini-series "event." The novel itself, after all, had started out as a serialization in "Black Mask" magazine, and a legion of readers had faithfully followed its plot convolutions there, so why -- or so the reasoning must have gone -- shouldn't it work equally well on the installment plan by spreading a TV dramatization out over several nights?This, unfortunately, was the last good idea experienced by anybody in conjunction with the production.Any number of object lessons can -- and should be --drawn from what wound up being presented as "Dashiell Hammett's The Dain Curse." (Presumably, to differentiate it from "Joe Blow's The Dain Curse," an important distinction.) Object lesson #1: If you're going to slavishly follow a plot that has enough twists and turns and old fashioned red herrings to make "The Canterbury Tales" read like "Dick And Jane Floss Their Teeth," then you'd best make sure you've at least got a director and cast who can maintain a pace that will keep your audience riveted. Otherwise, you run the risk of numerous viewers snapping awake simultaneously during a commercial break and saying "For THIS we missed 'Three's Company?'"Similarly, if you're going to adhere to the plot (and its dialogue), it's generally a good idea to cast actors who can carry it off. The novel's short and fat, middle-aged (but extremely tough) protagonist happens to also be anonymous, all for a purpose; changing him into the tall and thin, dapper (but extremely sardonic) James Coburn and giving him a name like Hamilton Nash (sounds like Dashiell Hammett, get it? wink! wink!) may gain you a bit of star power, except that he hasn't a clue how to relate to his material.Equally to the point, if you decide to change the story's setting from San Francisco and the central California coast to New York City and some generic seashore locale, keep in mind that any number of Hammett partisans -- whose teeth are already set in terminal-grind mode by this point -- are going to expect you to have a very good reason for doing so.In fairness, it should be mentioned that all concerned appear to give it their best shot (Hector Elizondo, as small-town sheriff Ben Cotton, and Jason Miller, as Owen Fitzstephan, are both standouts) as this "event" lurches from situation to situation; unfortunately, best shots here have a tendency to fall short of the mark, rather like a trapeze artist who can never quite make that third midair somersault in time or a high-wire artist with chronic nosebleed. The end result is a traveling circus, gamely striking its tent and moving on but getting . . . you guessed it!

I'm not surprised other reviewers found this mini-series confusing if they watched this video version: it has over half the scenes cut from it. The original series ran over four nights at six hours. Minus the commercial time, it clocks in at just over 4 1/2 hours. This video release is only 2 hours, 17 minutes long (despite the fact that the box says 193 minutes!)In it's original form, it's a near masterpiece of mood, style, and suspense with a terrific cast. Every time you think the mystery has been solved, a new mystery begins. And unlike most mystery movies today, when you finally arrive at the end and learn who the real villain is, it all makes perfect sense.So if you ever have a chance to catch it on some cable station, or if the DVD ever comes out, don't miss it. But skip the ripoff video!

James Coburn makes a wonderfully playful detective, somewhere between Nick Charles (The Thin Man) and Sam Spade. Like the movies of those characters, this is a complex story: actually 3 smaller mysteries wrapped in a larger one, which creates an odd tempo in the film. Normally a movie ends when the mystery is solved, but this movie keeps going onto another mystery like a rollercoaster. The version I saw was the 144 minute Anchor Bay video, which must have been abridged. This might account for a few scenes which faded inexplicably into others. Aside from that, the movie was quite entertaining. Though I was relieved when the entire mystery was really solved, I wanted to keep watching that wise, older, chivalrous, not-too-world-weary to be heartbroken detective.

Just awful. It's almost unbelievable that, with characters and situations provided by Dashiell Hammett, such a plodding, passionless mishmash could result. But that's television for you -- filler between commercials. The first warning signal sounds from the fussiness of the period re-creation, which screams "1928" in banner type. Flivvers and touring cars, fedoras and waistcoats, cloches and speakeasy jazz (jarringly played) -- with all the attention paid to pointless, arty detail, the important matters get ignored.Like narrative clarity, or plausibility, or competent writing and acting. The plot sets one of Hammett's operatives ("Hamilton Nash" so whether he's called "Ham" or "Nash" we think of "Hammett" or "Dash") investigating a bogus diamond theft. Thus is introduced the young woman who supposedly carries the Dain Curse (the charmless and talentless Nancy Addison, who went back to soaps where she belonged); she belongs to a crackpot religious cult led by Jean Simmons and seems addicted to "drugs" as well; there's also a Mysterious Gaseous Drug which seeps into rooms....But enough. The writing is never more pedestrian than when it reaches for the poetic or high-flown, and the cast parrots it the only way they know how: by grotesquely overacting. Simmons gets treated like minor royalty from Old Hollywood, but the grande-dame treatment doesn't wash. Hector Elizondo for some reason enjoys second billing (after Coburn) for a dispensable part. Other familiar faces drift through, doing little good for their resumes.The actors aren't even photographed to look good; Jason Miller is an especial fright, but extreme close-ups of Coburn are pitiless, too. Coburn probably copped this role because, with mustache, he bears a strong resemblance to Hammett. He needed more guidance than that; nobody has given him the vaguest hint as to how to play his character, or of the story's tone, or of how the different strands of the plot mesh together (they don't, at least not in this telling). So he flashes his big Chesire-cat grin whether called for or not.The Dain Curse is available on videotape, in a variety of lengths. For those foolhardy enough to "see for themselves," the shortest abridgement is the kindest cut of all.