St. Ives

Directed by J. Lee Thompson, St. Ives follows Charles Bronson’s Ray St. Ives as he agrees to help an oddball millionaire (John Houseman’s Abner Procane) retrieve some valuable stolen documents. Filmmaker Thompson, armed with Barry Beckerman’s screenplay, kicks St. Ives off with an engaging, entertaining opening stretch that ultimately stands in sharp contrast to its middling midsection and second half, as the movie’s initially-promising atmosphere is heightened considerably by Bronson’s loose, lived-in performance and a smattering of compelling sequences – with the latter exemplified by a terrific set-piece wherein St. Ives is attacked and thrown into an elevator shaft by three punks. (Two of said punks are played by Robert Englund and Jeff Goldblum!) It’s disappointing to note, then, that St. Ives‘ growing emphasis on its complicated, convoluted plot slowly-but-surely drains the viewer’s interest, as it becomes more and more difficult to work up any real enthusiasm for the central character’s almost episodic exploits (ie the picture eventually devolves into a series of increasingly underwhelming and tedious encounters). And although the climax is admittedly quite effective and satisfying, St. Ives has long-since cemented its place as a distressingly hit-and-miss endeavor that’s ultimately more miss than hit.

** out of ****