I don't know why, but It's surprisingly common, in movieworld, that if a man stumbles away from an automobile accident, he must cotract amnesia and he must suspect that he's murdered someone. On top of that, it's required that he will take full ninety minutes to prove that he is innocent of killing anyone. The Third Day hits these notes right down the middle. But The Third Day is 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 its redundant 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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