I don't know why, but It's mandatory, in movieworld, that if a man stumbles away from an automobile accident, he must suffer from amnesia and he must suspect that he's murdered someone. On top of that, it's required that it will take the full ninety minutes to prove his innocence. The Third Day splits all these notes right down the middle. But it's not just an amnesia/murder mystery/police procedural. It's also a soap opera/marriage on the rocks movie; it's a save-the-small-town-factory from corporate raiders story. And it's a maniac-on-the-loose horror film. The Third Day is a crowded conflation of genres which doesn't quite succeed in finding a concord to all that discord.
The first ten minutes are the best. Steve Mallory, played by George Peppard, returns to pre-amnesia life only to discover, and be dismayed, that he's a lout, barroom brawler, a drunk, and a womanizer. Peppard is perfectly cast because "baffled" is his default expression. It's his gift.
Sally Kellerman, later Hot Lips Houlihan, is the vamp. Arte Johnson, later Laugh-In's Wolfgang is the maniac. Herbert Marshall has the worst role of his career, but if there were a lifetime achievement award for finger-acting, he would win it. Robert Webber is the detective hot to prove that Steve Mallory is guilty, but he should have been more empathetic because earlier that same year he had himself suffered a full ninety minutes of amnesia in Hysteria (1965).
I could almost bring myself to admire this picture. It's well-paced, well-directed, beautifully photographed, mysterious in parts; a couple of luminous supporting roles. It flagged somewhere half way through. So did I.
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