THE DOMINO PRINCIPLE knocked itself into a heap thanks to unsteady hands doing a poorly rigged job of setting it up. Slouching into 1977 as a late entry in the conspiracy cycle that ran thru the 70’s, this was in the political assassination subset that included Executive Action, The Parallax View and Winter Kills.  Slugged by those who made it, pistol whipped by critics, it was a dead film walking at the box office, 86th place with a whimpered $4,600,000 gross blotted by costing almost as much.

Convicted of a murder that he didn’t commit, ex-Nam vet ‘Roy Tucker’ (Gene Hackman) is presented with a get out of jail offer by apparently ‘cleared from above’ gentlemen who represent an unnamed organization with some to-be-revealed purpose. If Roy ‘works’ for them for a few weeks, he’ll get a new identity, a plush home aboard and can get back together with ‘Ellie’ (Candice Bergen), his wife, over whom he ended up in prison, for offing her first husband, or taking the rap for it. Motives are unclear all the way around.

So is the hole-riddled script, written by Adam Kennedy (The Dove, Raise The Titanic), adapted from his best-selling novel. Perhaps the 173-page book is gripping but the 121 minute movie is a slog, despite the solid cast lineup which includes Richard Widmark, Mickey Rooney, Eli Wallach and Edward Albert. Hackman and Widmark have a half-dozen confrontations/conversations with Hackman’s sullen fall guy being schmoozed by Widmark’s patient groomer. The last goes as follows— TUCKER: “Tell me one thing.”   TAGGE: “Go ahead.”   TUCKER: “Is it over?”   TAGGE:  “I don’t know. The bigger the stink, the more there is to cover up. And the man who worries the most is the man who gave the original order. If he panics, the dominoes start to fall.” That pretty much covers how Hackman, Bergen and others felt about the material, and was what director Stanley Kramer realized as his production lurched forward, marked by much star-director feuding. Hackman took the part for money (as he did with his other 1977 misfire, March or Die—great battle scene, lousy movie); his carping and attitude was bad enough (including sabotage sniping in the press) that fed-up Kramer kept track of it in a diary,which he published to the star’s embarrassment. *

Start to finish, a downer. Shot mostly in L.A. and San Francisco, with the prison scenes done at San Quentin (the extras were inmates, cons paid for being what they were). The Costa Rica segment was accomplished in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico.To be fair, while the ‘thriller’ aspect isn’t thrilling, and the ‘mystery’ not enthralling, there is some interest in seeing how the actors handle it. Hackman is uncharacteristically lackluster, Widmark relaxed, Rooney shows ever-reliable spark. Bergen, dulled down with a frumpy hairdo, manages her emotional moments well even though the relationship subplot with Hackman is strained: this was their third time working together, after The Hunting Party (vile) and Bite The Bullet (enjoyable).

With Ken Swofford, Jay Novello (72, final role), Neva Peterson, Ted Gehring, Majel Barrett and Charles Horvath.

* Hackman: “”We had a lot of problems on that film; I had arguments with Stanley Kramer.” He called Kramer’s diary “embarrassing, but I have to say it was accurate. And he was probably right in his remarks about me. The film we were making just wasn’t worth the difficulties I was giving him. The truth is I was in trouble on that film and I got scared.”

Bergen did it “because it gave me the chance to play an ordinary woman. I put on a sappy wig and wore sappy clothes and for once in my life I didn’t look like Candice Bergen and they [the critics] creamed me for that, saying I looked like Shelley Winters.”  Yeek.

After a string of high-profile winners (The Defiant Ones, On The Beach, Inherit The Wind, Judgment At Nuremberg, It’s A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World, Ship Of Fools) Kramer started to slip. Guess Who’s Coming To Dinner was a big hit, but it was also a softball pitch. The Secret Of Santa Vittoria was a step down and then a slip ‘n slide commenced with R.P.M., Bless The Beasts And Children, Oklahoma Crude, this odd fizzle and finally the aptly titled The Runner Stumbles. At Movies Ala, we don’t subscribe to the critical pile-on that he’s received (absurd, lazy overkill started by a hateful bat named Pauline) because even if his second half wasn’t stellar like the first, those earlier films remain in the A-zone. And I like The Pride And The Passion. So sue me, already.