inspectors71 Michael Ritchie's lurid--maybe vile is the better choice--gangster against gangster flick, Prime Cut is beyond description because, 30+ years after seeing it, I still don't know what kind of movie it was trying to be.Let's see. We have a grizzled he-man, gentleman hit-man in Lee Marvin, a rapist-pillager with a woman's name in Gene Hackman, a Hackman brother who reminded me of the goons in the old Popeye cartoons, and a young woman who is so surreal in her beauty (Sissy Spacek) that there is no way she could have been brought up in an orphanage specifically to be sold as a sex slave. There's meat-packing, milk-tasting, white-slaving, and the Cadillac Fleetwood getting eaten by a thresher. Don't forget the Irish mobsters, all loyalty and mother's love, Hackman sneering at Chicago being a rotten old sow looking for fresh cream (I kid you not), and that dinner with Marvin's Nick Devlin and Poppy (Spacek).I might get an argument from some about the natural loveliness of a young Spacek. Those eyes could just burn holes through you. I don't know her life story, but I'm wondering if she, as a kid, would turn that look on, and she would get whatever she wanted. In Prime Cut, for some reason, Ritchie puts Spacek--who knows nothing about proper, adult manners in a restaurant, or propriety in clothing choices, for that matter--in a nice, at-the-top-of-a-hotel eatery across from Marvin. He shows her which utensils to use and when. He gives her fatherly smiles of calming encouragement. He gives an I'm-going-to-kill-you look to a middle-aged man who is staring at Spacek. Her gown is see-through. Now, don't get me wrong. For years this has been my favorite part of Prime Cut, the care and feeding of the iguana residing inside my old brain. But the more I think about it, using my upper primate- hairless ape brain, the more appalled I am at this scene.Spacek is a victim of sexual slavery. She has been purchased by Marvin to save her. He dresses her, feeds her, reassures her, then parades her into a restaurant wearing something that covers only her lap. Marvin doesn't rape Spacek, but it's that feeling that he's showing off a fresh piece of meat to the world, that he has power and authority. Kind of like a "benign dictator."If you can get your iguana to settle down, you may find that the restaurant scene ruins the movie.I've found myself hating Prime Cut because of its almost- pornographic attention to throwing in anything and everything amoral just to get a rise out of the audience.But Prime Cut is almost a traffic-accident in its ability to draw your attention. It's the rescue aspect of the story, mixed in with the good-bad guys sent to discipline the bad-bad guys tension, the weird names for Hackman and Gregory Walcott, the evil lure of seeing all those drugged, naked girls for sale in pens, Lee Marvin sent to do a job for Eddie Egan wearing white bucks, the way you'll never really feel comfortable eating wieners again, Spacek's innocent appreciation of Marvin's benevolence while you and the guy at the next table are staring at her nipples, the shooting of the fat guy in the combine, the masticulation of the Caddy, and that moment when I knew Prime Cut was beyond classification, when Marvin looks down in disgust at Hackman's plate at the girl sale.He states/asks/accuses, "You eat guts."I have weird dreams on a regular basis, nothing bad, just weird. I wake up rested but feeling a little disjointed, and sometimes the dreams are so vivid, it takes a moment for me to return to reality.Prime Cut is like one of my dreams, only I have to go searching for it (on average, once every two to three years) instead of it coming to me.And, as far as Sissy Spacek's nipples are concerned, why do you think I sleep on my side instead of on my back?

ferbs54 Just a year after copping the 1971 Best Actor Oscar for his portrayal of one of the most dogged detectives in screen history--"Popeye" Doyle, in "The French Connection"--Gene Hackman was back in theaters playing a character very much on the other side of the law. In the woefully underrated "Prime Cut," which opened in June '72, Hackman played a dope-peddling, slave-trafficking gangster named (shades of Johnny Cash's "A Boy Named Sue") Mary Ann, who is also the legitimate operator of Mary Ann's Meats, a slaughterhouse and meatpacking plant outside Kansas City, Kansas. As the film opens, we see the inner workings of this factory, in a scene guaranteed to turn the stomachs of not only the audience's vegetarians, but possibly its carnivores, as well. The strange sight of a man's shoe on the assembly line is soon explained, as we learn that Chicago mob boss Jake (Eddie Egan) has just been sent a package of sausage made from the remains of a recent "enforcer" that he had sent to Mary Ann's place to collect $500,000 in owed monies; the third enforcer to wind up dead after being sent to the slaughterhouse. Thus, Jake has no choice but to resort to his old buddy Nick Devlin (supercool Lee Marvin), who, despite being semiretired, cannot resist the $50,000 fee to do this bit of dirty collecting. And so off Nick goes, accompanied by three young Irish toughs and a limo driver, and armed with a submachine gun, on the long drive from Chicago to KC. But when the team arrives at Mary Ann's compound, it finds not only a stubbornly defiant Mary Ann, but also stock pens filled with drugged and naked young women, ready to be sold to the highest bidders. And after rescuing the pretty Poppy (Sissy Spacek, in her film debut), Devlin must soon contend with Mary Ann, his brutish brother Weenie (Gregory Walcott), and all of Mary Ann's assorted rural henchmen....Featuring some surprisingly gorgeous photography of the heartland countryside, unexpected bursts of strong violence, a witty script from Robert Dillon and three terrific performances by its three leads, "Prime Cut" turns out to be a real winner, indeed. The film boasts at least three action highlights: in the first, Nick and Poppy flee from Mary Ann's country goons through a county fair and into a camouflaging field of wheat; in the next, which comes immediately after this Hitchcockian sequence, the two must escape the razor-sharp blades of a fast-moving combine harvester; and in the third, brilliantly shot action scene, Nick and his men engage in a pitched gun battle with Mary Ann's gang in a field of gigantic sunflowers. This last is a particularly well-done sequence, preceded by a moody lightning storm; I love the way the camera follows behind Devlin as he makes his way through those garishly bright flower heads. As revealed in Spacek's new autobiography, "My Extraordinary Ordinary Life," the film was actually shot outside Calgary, Alberta, whose wide-open wheat fields certainly do a fine job of simulating Kansas. Spacek also reveals in her book that Marvin was very easy to work with--the two DO have a strangely effective chemistry on screen, despite the differences in their ages and personae--and that he warned her that, when he was drinking, if his green eyes ever turned blue, she should keep her distance from him...advice that she apparently respected! Spacek surprisingly appears topless in this, her first screen role, and indeed, this scene is not the film's only risqué moment; well do I recall the spread that "Playboy" magazine did on "Prime Cut" that month, showcasing all the many female slaves, naked and doped up in their pens.Of course, much of the credit for this film's artistic success must be given to director Michael Ritchie. This was Ritchie's second theatrical film, after years of work on television programs and the Robert Redford vehicle "Downhill Racer" (also featuring Gene Hackman), and he would go on to helm such popular entertainments as "The Candidate" (with Redford again), "The Bad News Bears," "Semi-Tough" and "Fletch." Ritchie here demonstrates a sure hand not only with exciting action scenes, but with quieter, more personal moments as well, and is quite adept at moving that ol' camera around! Kudos also to famed Argentine composer Lalo Schifrin for his understated, moody score; Schifrin was responsible for a whopping 78 film scores during his great career, plus 12 for TV, including, of course, his most famous piece of music: the theme song for TV's "Mission: Impossible." Ultimately, however, it is Lee Marvin's effortless sangfroid that steals the show here; what a wonderfully tough performance from this Hollywood icon! Clocking in at 86 minutes, "Prime Cut" is a compact thrill ride that effectively showcases the talents of all concerned. See it, you must...but NOT, of course, while eating a hamburger or sausage sandwich....

lost-in-limbo How to cut it? Watch as two very big personalities with bad tempers go at it and chew up the scenery. Very different in styles too. One hardened and lean, quietly going about his business which suited Lee Marvin, while Gene Hackman was all show, arrogant and aggressive in getting what he wants. So when these two come to blows, the confrontations are a sight to see. The story follows that of an underworld enforcer Nick Devlin sent to Kansas City by the Chicago mafia to collect money owned from a mobster Mary Ann who has no intention of paying, as those who have tried have met an untimely end (opening credits is an ingenious touch that won't have you looking at sausages in the same way again). So they hire the best in Devlin. A meat-packing plant fronts for Ann's other business dealings involving drugs and prostitution. "Prime Cut" is a hard-hitting 70s gangster joint, which can be brutal in its melodramatics and excessive in its details. It's a rough and tumble, if drawn out cat and mouse chase exercise with a pinch noir, as no one wants to step down from their stance. The script is unassuming, but vigorous when it has to be. Some moments do have a dark underbelly, like how the prostitutes are treated like live-stock. Drugged, paraded and demoralised. "Cow flesh. Girl flesh. All the same to me. " Throughout there are symbolic images, like when Marvin and his crew are riding into a storm, which mirrors what's to come in its climatic payoff. These moments stand out more, because it does feel aimless and maybe too simple in its automatic, if minimalistic narrative drive made up of hidden agendas. Director Michael Ritchie's hasty styling is comfortable, especially in constructing pockets of tense set-pieces (wheat tractor chase) and the picturesque backdrop adds genuine flavour. While it's the two leads that steal the show, making her film debut is the impressive Sissy Spacek, who's doll-face appearance simply sticks with you. Gregory Walcott also leaves a mark. Odd, but a conventionally engaging and unflinching action thriller. "Anyway it cuts."

kenjha A Chicago mobster goes to Kansas City to collect from an associate who's not paying his dues. The script for this film could not have been more than ten pages. There's hardly any plot. Some films make up for a lack of story by presenting entertaining vignettes. This film makes up for lack of story by using up lots of screen time showing people walking from one place to another or driving from one place to another. The vignettes have no rhyme or reason and little is revealed about the characters. When combined with the lethargic pace, it makes for an underwhelming experience. The talents of Marvin and Hackman are wasted. Spacek is notable in her film debut.