Catchfire

Dennis Hopper, denying directorial responsibility behind the traditional Alan Smithee credit, has certainly lost a fair amount of plot logic in the editing. Judging by the lady trucker who discusses genital symbolism in Georgia O'Keefe, he may have been shorn of larky disgressions too, as well as the odd guest, though Dylan's walk-on survives. It's a picaresque charade about hit-man Milo (Hopper) who falls for his hit, artist Anne (Foster), kidnaps her and dodges the mob (Price, Pesci, Stockwell) who commissioned him. He has deep, inarticulate feelings of love, despite his underwear fetish and an unfortunate jump-start with rape. Quite why Anne reciprocates has got lost in the wash. Hiding out in the hills, she encourages him to rescue a lamb from a crevasse, but we've already been hipped to his heart since he plays solitary saxophone. Hopper plays a variant on Nicholson in Prizzi's Honor, and a finale at the San Pedro oil refinery falls far short of White Heat. The nicest idea is the way Milo traces his quarry through her mind, to find her thinking up slogans in an ad agency.