An unintelligible and all but imperceptible storyline about police corruption runs underneath an exhausting series of splashy action scenes. In these, the favorite idea, used three times, is to have a brigade of policemen line up like Eisensteinian shock troops and rain bullets on some guiltless sitting duck. Clint Eastwood, as a bedraggled Phoenix cop, appears to be as irked by his fellow human beings as ever, but shows uncharacteristic restraint by not killing a solitary one of them throughout the entire movie. When his poison-tongued co-star, Sondra Locke, hurls a shocking epithet at him, he responds only with a prim, facetious slow-motion blink. Directed by Eastwood. (1977) — Duncan Shepherd
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