Small Caliber

Gunn. In his day (1958-61), he was so cool that frost used to form on his dialogue. His wardrobe was so kempt that he had creases in his sweaters. Anyone who hired Private Eye Peter Gunn knew he was getting the real TV goods: come-what-mayhem, brisk backchat, and a solid Henry Mancini score between the commercials.

Six years later, Writer-Director Blake Edwards has resurrected the hero of his finest half-hours. Trading up from TV to a wide screen and Technicolor is not the only change he has made. Regular Gunn Moll Lola Albright, who played Edie, and Herschel Bernardi, as Lieut. Jacoby, are gone, and by the finale, Mother's joint has become a discotheque. But the music is still by Mancini, and Craig Stevens retains his dry-ice delivery and his Gary Grant composure even in this preposterously plotted pursuit of a villain who killed one of Gunn's gangster friends.

Along the way, the film turns into a tortuous tour of off-beat waterfront locales. There is a sadistic scene in a squash court, a shoot-out in a hall of mirrors, and a visit to a floating brothel full of identical-twin prostitutes. Long before the ending, the movie has been swallowed up in affected effects and ponderous expository scenes. Despite occasional sprightly echoes of his past repartee, and despite a large cast of competent character actors, Gunn seems of much smaller caliber than he was in the living room.

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