THE ODESSA FILE (1974) **1/2 If there are retributive angels of karma, then Simon Wiesenthal is an all-time all-star. Frederick Forsythe's novel is not a direct commentary on Wiesenthal's work, but does an excellent job of drawing our attention to the dark shadows where that work became inexplicably difficult. It is a matter of record, extrapolated by the academically acclaimed but publicly ignored Noam Chomsky set, that the United States put thousands of individual Nazis (just not "the Nazis") back in power in post-World War II Germany. The Nazis had been highly effective against the Communists, and that that was the first thing that the Allies wanted on the résumé of reconstructionists. So, given that the Americans were happy enough to forgive and forget, imagine how much more so the Nazis themselves, and particular a secret society derived from the SS elite. Not so with Wiesenthal, or Jon Voight. The film unnecessarily tames down the girlfriend character, I read the novel in my early teen years and was particular impressed with the section explaining the termination of her gymnastics career, so the film necessarily lives (mainly) or dies (occasionally, due mainly to histrionics) on Voight's shoulders. It's well-paced, but somewhat determined not to offend anyone--particularly strange, given the subject matter--and Andrew Lloyd Webber's variously overwraught and inappropriate orchestrations appear suddenly on occasion as unintended musical jokes. Their effect, however, isn't entirely counterproductive as it lightens the tension, and ensures that you won't expect more of Voight than he's able to deliver.
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