HARPER (1966) **1/2 Fair to middlin' detective yarn, but the central attraction is Paul Newman. Probably no one has ever so effortlessly thrown off incredibly clever lines, probably because that's what he does off screen too. With Paul you always know that you're going to get a good performance, and you damn near always get some unexpected benefits-here's it's wondering how much of his wry smirk is the character, and how much of it is Paul being amused with his execution of the understated lines. Topanga Canyon and the Pacific Coast Highway are shot nicely and the cast is full of recognizeable faces. We don't get enough Lauren Bacall for my tastes, but Robert Wagner has several glorious lines, Julie Harris is an unconvincing but interesting anyway junkie singer, Pamela Tiffin does a dance on a diving board that would look more appropriate in those '60s go-go club dancing cages (where nothing looks appropriate), and for some reason Newman wants to remain married to Janet Leigh. Bright cars, fast women, pretty roads, big money, effective drugs, weird religion, desperado aliens...it's a California flick.