A lot of time is spent, and a lot of blood spilt, to set up a situation so simple-minded that we will approve of Charles Bronson throwing out the legal code: "I remember when legal meant lawful," he philosophizes. "Now it means some kind of loophole." Unlike the high-strung sex murderer whose knife is his phallus, Bronson is a Real Man ("I hate quiche," he says, in disappointment over what's on his cafeteria tray. "I thought it was pie"), and he has a nice collection of dark-colored, button-down-collared shirts, and he didn't need quite so much outside help to secure our sympathy. With Lisa Eilbacher and Andrew Stevens; directed by J. Lee Thompson. (1983) — Duncan Shepherd
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