This film is a combo platter: a juicy slice of "Miami Vice," a generous portion of LETHAL WEAPON, a side of "Starsky and Hutch" and there you have it--THE LAST HOUR.
The film opens with a steamy sex session between Eric Drake (Bobby DiCicco) and his new wife Susan (Shannon Tweed) in their tasteful boudoir. When Eric steps away for a moment to wash up, gunmen rush onto the lush grounds of their home. A shootout ensues, resulting in the deaths of both maid and
gardener. Susan is taken hostage. Susan's former husband Jeff (Michael Pare), still hoping to win her back, drops by for a visit and discovers the murders. Together with Eric, Jeff sets off to retrieve his ex-wife.
It quickly turns out that Eric isn't the investment banker Susan thought she'd married. Before cleaning up his act, getting a face job and assuming a new identity, Eric was "married" to the mob. His former colleague (Robert Pucci) is still resentful--hence Susan's kidnapping. Eric must now come
up with the proper cash to save her.
A series of twists and turns lead Eric and Jeff to the sleek building where Susan is being held hostage. Both Jeff and Eric fight the mobsters--and battle each other--to save Susan. The victor, lest anyone doubt that true love prevails, is Jeff--besides, he's a better dresser.
In a nice touch at the beginning of THE LAST HOUR, the viewer is disoriented by a flash-forward to what we later learn is the end of the film--the final minute of the last hour. Otherwise, Jim Byrnes's unexceptional screenplay leaves a lot to be desired while including a lot that isn't, namely an
unrelenting stream of one-liners in a typical smart-ass copper vein. Nonetheless, through both William Sachs's (GALAXINA, EXTERMINATOR 2) direction and Maurie Beck's editing, the actual arc of time in THE LAST HOUR is faithfully observed--save for some eternal car chases and the dreaded
expositional scenes--managing to create something of a "ticking clock" effect. The cinematography is uninspiring, even shaky at points, although cinema verite is not this flick's particular angle.
Performances tend toward the sluggish, slowing down the film's pace, although the much-in-demand Shannon Tweed (TWISTED JUSTICE, LAST CALL) adds some spice, and a drop of feminist hope, to the lame captured-femme-saved-by-photogenic-hunk routine. (Violence, profanity, nudity.) leave a comment
