Burt Reynolds makes a comparatively benign visit to theater screens with this trite family comedy, his first bigscreen outing in four years (aside from a cameo in 1992's THE PLAYER).
Nick McKenna (Burt Reynolds), a lone-wolf, tough-guy lawman, is the "Cop" and Devon Butler (Norman D. Golden II), a cute eight-year-old black kid, is the "Half" of the title. Both are standard movie-issue characters. Devon adores TV cop shows and buddy-cop movies, memorizes all their cliches and
acts them out in the school playground. The boy dreams of being an honest-to-goodness blue knight, and he gets his chance when he sees Miami mobster Vinnie Fountain (Ray Sharkey) killing an associate. Devon refuses to co-operate with the police in tracking down Fountain until he's made an honorary
cop for a day. Grumbling McKenna gets the task of humoring the pint-sized key witness, babysitting Devon as they ride around in a squad car. Of course, Devon takes his deputization quite seriously, leading to a fairly predictable cycle of slapstick mayhem, with the kiddie cop ultimately leading
his unwilling new playmate to Fountain's lair.
At this point let's give credit where credit is due: director Henry Winkler ("Happy Days" actor and later producer of the popular TV series "McGyver") never for a single sprocket hole forgets the target audience of this motion picture--children. As a result COP AND A HALF contains nothing
terribly nasty or disturbing. Devon and McKenna bring Fountain to justice with a couple of Roy Rogers-level gunfights and high-speed motorboat chases; little blood, no cussing, nothing offensive. Compared to the similarly-plotted Arnold Schwarzenegger antecedent KINDERGARTEN COP (also released by
Universal), which alternated moppet fun with serious adult brutality, this comes as some relief. COP AND A HALF stays true to its admittedly banal nature as safe entertainment for the youngsters.
Young Norman D. Golden II, making his film debut, is quick with his lines and insistently adorable--ideal for material like this as he outwits schoolyard bullies, principals and bad guys. Making a bigger hit is Ray Sharkey as Vinnie Fountain, wisely fashioned as a silly buffoon who fancies
himself a Vegas-style crooner, regaling friend and foe alike with impromptu lounge singing. Sharkey, a hard-living actor who succumbed to AIDS in June 1993, usually gave 110% to every role he played, from his celebrated turn in TV's "Wiseguy" series to numerous B-movie cheapies; Sharkey puts the
proper spirit of fun into this part.
Indeed, the only performer with an adult edge to his character is Reynolds. One can blame marital discord (his divorce from actress Loni Anderson erupted into headline news a few months after this film's release), believe studio gossip about "creative differences" with Winkler, or credit his
under-appreciated acting skills; either way Reynolds' Nick McKenna is a curt, moody loner who looks like he would rather be anywhere else but in a kiddies' movie. The script ascribes Nick's attitude to the death of his previous partner on the force, but cineastes who search for echoes of real life
in film performances might find this almost as meaty a dish as Woody Allen's HUSBANDS AND WIVES in terms of tangible offscreen angst. (Violence.) leave a comment
