The Mechanic

It's fascinating now to see what was considered/what passed for an action movie in the 1970s.  Especially when compared to contemporary features, where editing tends to be hyperactive at best and the assaultive set pieces begin from nearly Frame One.   There was an era when filmmakers took their time to develop characters, even in a genre pic.  Long enough for audiences to really feel something when things happened to them.  These days, even the protagonist in such movies seems disposable, an afterthought.  There merely to carry a weapon and be overwhelmed by the green screen.

1972's THE MECHANIC opens with a fifteen minute or so sequence in which we observe Arthur Bishop go about his work.  A killer for hire.  There is no dialogue, only carefully crafted acting, direction, and editing.  Near virtuoistic.  Perhaps recalling RIFFIFI.  Was that Michael Winner's intention? It is unsurprising that the remainder of his film doesn't match this opening, but does continue its deliberate (though hardly slow paced) examination of a solitary man.  One who remains stone faced and chill as he carries out operations but is shown after hours to be dependent on various medications.  Being a mechanic is tough on one's psyche, to say nothing of his mitral valve.

Bishop has few friends.  One is an associate named Harry (Keenan Wynn, comically overacting) who asks a large favor.  But soon Bishop discovers his next assignment is this very fellow.  The mechanic has no conscience; it's just business, of course.  Things get curious when Harry's son Steve (Jan-Michael Vincent), a cocky, inhumane young man, indicates interest in a mentorship with Arthur.  The kid certainly has the cold blooded bit down.  In a highly curious sequence, Steve's girlfriend attempts suicide with a razor.  Her boyfriend merely watches her bleed and tells her how long it be before she will die.  Then he tosses her his car keys and suggests she drive herself to the E.R.

Bishop works for an organization.  He neglects to tell them about his new intern, who causes his preceptor to get sloppy during a hit.  This will not do with the higher ups.  But the next organization gig will send Bishop to Italy, and Steve will be invited along.  It may or may not turn out like you guess.  There are a few twists.

THE MECHANIC is paced to favor character study more so than breakneck action.  There are lengthy scenes of dialogue that are refreshingly not filled with cute wiseacracks (at least not all of the time).  There is swift violence but far less than in other Bronson vehicles.  Writer Lewis John Carlino fashions this story more thoughtfully than you might've expected, even if he damned the movie as "pseudo James Bond".  He was also discouraged that his original intention of having Arthur and Steve as gay lovers was rejected.  That may have made this all more interesting, but as it is THE MECHANIC is purely and simply a nice bit of retro escapism.

Bronson is so enjoyable to watch, and has this unexplainable comforting presence, but is also wooden and expressionless.  Vincent has star quality but is also fairly bland.  Jill Ireland, Bronson's real life wife, appears as a prostitute.  Her first scene with Chuck is somewhat painful, and seems as if directed by Ed Wood.  It's fortunate that their follow up scene, which reveals a fascinating character dynamic, is so good.