Jon Hamm bops along amiably enough as the carefree, wiseacre detective once played by Chevy Chase.
Insouciance goes a fairly long way in “Confess, Fletch,” which revives the wiseacre investigator once played by Chevy Chase and featured in a series of novels by Gregory Mcdonald. Now Jon Hamm bops along as Irwin Fletcher (a.k.a. Fletch), living the life of Riley and explaining to strangers that he once was a great reporter. Tapping into a minor vogue in murder mysteries, Greg Mottola’s relaxed-fit film follows Fletch after he discovers a dead woman in the art-filled Boston house where he’s staying.
Fletch blithely feeds tips to the police detective (Roy Wood Jr.) on the scene, ignoring the fact that he’s under suspicion himself. At the same time, his Italian girlfriend, Angela (Lorenza Izzo), suspects her stepmother of angling for her family’s art since the disappearance of her father. So Fletch noses around, questioning a high-rolling art dealer (Kyle MacLachlan) who loves EDM, a gabby neighbor (Annie Mumolo, more or less channeling Janice Soprano), and Angela’s chaotic stepmother (Marcia Gay Harden, having a ball).
If any of that elicits a “heh,” you might warm to Mottola’s ambling brand of comedy, which also casts a faintly absurd light on the yacht-friendly Boston milieu. Yet a haplessness clings to Hamm that tends to take the air out of his character’s shenanigans.
All of which makes one appreciate master practitioners of the unhurried detective genre like Peter Falk or James Garner. But getting peeved at Mottola and Hamm’s easygoing efforts would be like getting mad at a cat for sleeping too much.
Confess, Fletch
Rated R for sex, some drugs and gumshoe mischief. Running time: 1 hour 38 minutes. In theaters and available to rent or buy on Apple TV, Google Play and other streaming platforms and pay TV operators.
Source: Movies - nytimes.com
