Le témoin du troisième jour

I was so surprised to find that other IMDb users admire this film that I had to declare my contempt for it.

Despite the distinguished names in the credits, both in front of and behind the camera, this is a really shoddy movie. Written and directed like a fifth-rate T V show, it spins a totally incredible story of a man who loses his memory after a car crash, and learns that he is widely disliked and despised, and is now suspected of murdering the local slut.

None of the characters behaves in a plausible way. For example, the wife receives a visit from a complete stranger. She goes downstairs to meet him, and although he acts and talks unusually and alarmingly, she nevertheless gets in his car and goes off with him without even knowing where they are going! The film is full of nonsense like that.

Robert Surtees' controlled use of light and Percy Faith's melodic and lushly orchestrated score are welcome, but do not overcome the movie's basic problems.

Good performances from both young actresses, Elizabeth Ashley (who was to become the second of Peppard's five wives) and Sally Kellerman (who was to create the iconic Miss Margaret "Hot 👄" Houlihan a few years later). Here, unlike in "Breakfast at Tiffany's," George plays a character not so far removed from his own IRL, i.e. an egotistical, womanizing ingrate maneuvering for control of his disabled father-in-law's company. It's only because almost all the other male characters, played by Roddy McDowell (his lying and conniving rival for the company), Robert Webber (the D.A.), and a supremely creepy (and thoroughly unfunny) Arte Johnson, are freakin' grotesque near-charicatures that Peppard comes out not smelling like a skunk in this one. Or at least, that's how I see it anyway. 😀

Adaptation of Joseph Hayes' book about a "buffoon" who survives a horrible car crash but with amnesia; he's unsure of his wealth and position, which his wife's elderly aunt is happy to fill him in on (she acts like a scorecard for the confused man as well as the audience). Turns out he's a wealthy, ruthless boozer who holds the financial fate of a Northern California city's residents in his hands, being the owner of the local factory that he's considering selling off. He also had a woman in the car with him the day he drove off a mountain road, and if she dies he could be tried for homicide. Well-dressed but corny melodrama tries too hard to raise chills, such as when George Peppard sees something that jars his memory and Percy Faith's overly-fancy music swells up on the soundtrack like in a Hitchcock thriller. Roddy McDowall steals scenes as a nefarious relative (he's such a brittle prig, you half expect him to crack after Elizabeth Ashley slaps him). In her movie debut, Sally Kellerman has a showy flashback role, and Arte Johnson (pre-"Laugh-In") surprises with a serious performance as an unbalanced lounge pianist. The plot is slackly-handled by director Jack Smight. Under better circumstances, this might have been an exciting potboiler; as it is, the film's posh décor upstages the dull, soapy contrivances. *1/2 from ****

Steve Mallory (George Peppard) climbs out of the river and stumbles into a bar. He has no memories, not even his name but everybody seems to know him. Apparently, he had a car accident. He has to figure out the family relations and the mysterious situation.

For this to work, one must be compelled by Peppard's character. It certainly starts off with good intrigue but soon, there is an avalanche of confusing connections and relationships. I stop trying to figure out what's going on. It would have been useful for him to be paired with an informative companion. One expected him to start investigating the girl from the crash a lot earlier. I do like the premise but I lost interest over time.

... in which the hero (Peppard) escapes from a car wreck and is suffering from the effects of amnesia. He soon realizes that he is a wealthy man who is involved in the possible sale of his company.

His father-in-law handed it over to him. He didn't give it to his son, who is an officer of the company and he has just been stricken with a full-on stroke. Will George Peppard manage to hold on to the company? Everbody seems to regard his amnesia as "a headache" that will go away. And what is the mystery of the car wreck, which has produced a dead female?

This poor excuse for a thriller generates very little suspense or excitement. And the device of weaving the dead woman (Sally Kellerman) into the action in order to fill in story gaps is bizarre, to say the least. Peppard and Ashley were fashioning themselves as a great screen team. But, unfortunately, it did not work out. The magic of their work in "The Carpetbaggers" has eluded them.