dougdoepke Okay, the 30's had Sam Spade, the 40's had Philip Marlowe, and the 50's had Cold War PI, Mike Hammer. So why shouldn't the 60's have its iconic private dick too. His name is Moses Wine. He stands 5-5, wears glasses and exercises on a skateboard. His hard knocks' schooling is courtesy the Berkeley college of street protest and radical rhetoric, where he majored in Pinko Studies and How to Grind Up the Establishment. There are no stacked blondes in his life, only an ex-wife hitting him up for child support and two little boys he takes on cases when he can't find a sitter. He wouldn't know a fedora from a fez, a Lucky Strike from a Pall Mall, or a whiskey and soda from a scotch and water. And instead of bashing evil-doers-- such as people who call him a "liberal"-- he pickets their house. On the other hand, if things get really rough, he can put in a call to the ghetto or the radical underground or even a cop siren when a door gets grease-gunned to death. In short, Moses Wine is Mike Hammer's worst nightmare come true.In the Big Fix, Wine (Richard Dreyfuss) is on the trail of somebody, it's not always clear who. But it has something to do with sabotaging a political campaign. Turns out it's the campaign of a liberal politician, of all people, but then Wine needs the money, and besides everyone else has trimmed their hair and sold out-- so why shouldn't he. Along the way, he meets some interesting types, like the establishment barracuda (Fritz Weaver), and the movie's versions of Abbie Hoffman (F. Murray Abraham) and maybe the Symbionese Liberation Army's Bill and Emily Harris (Bloch & Grody). But my favorite is his crusty old aunt. She's sort of the stand-in for every old lefty who never gave up the labor fight. Now she spends her time in a Jewish old age home, debating the fine points of anarchist theory and telling touring politicians how things really are. So naturally, when Wine bursts into the opening refrain of the Internationale, we know where the inspiration comes from and, more importantly, where he comes from.Sure the mystery's about as clear as air quality in downtown LA. So don't expect a tidy wrap-up. But then the great Raymond Chandler figured life doesn't come in tidy packages either. Anyway, don't expect to see this one-of-a-kind at the White House any time soon or even at your local Democratic headquarters. But it is well acted and produced, with a lot of humorous touches and an approach that thankfully never gets heavy- handed. So thanks be to co-producer Dreyfuss for daring to entertain where politically correct Hollywood has long feared to tread.

tillzen I saw this film when I was 18, and at 51 I realize what a dope I was. This is sloppy 70's film-making at its WORST. Dreyfus is (like the entire film) using cutesy shorthand in lieu of acting. One need only look at the constant continuity errors to realize that everybody must have been either high, or thought making a quality film was too bourgeois. I "got" the 60's. I was a teen in the 70's, and "The Big Fix" is typical of the hipster coding that allowed the excesses that typified Richard Dreyfus "the drug years". What was well written wisenheimer dialog in "Jaws" and "The Good-Bye Girl" is here reduced to winging it, and the wires of laziness clearly show the puppet to be merely in motion; mimicking performance. What a silly, and disingenuous waste of time this film still is!

berrys1178 The Big Fix is a mystery that does not answer every question that it raises, but it nails the Zeitgeist of the late 60's from a vantage point 10 years later. I have only seen it once, when it first came out and I have looked for it ever since.The story is slow to develop with Moses Wine (Dreyfuss) having trouble with seemingly every aspect of his life. We learn that he feels displaced in time, and cannot get past the radical time in his life. I and many others have had those same feelings in the 35+ years since.The sense of confusion and struggle fits exactly the feelings many of us experienced at the time. Taught to respect the police by our Greatest Generation parents, we often found that we were at the top of the police list of suspects for anything from subversion to bad manners and bad dress. The sense of alienation that I felt at the time permeates the viewing. I may have read too much of myself into it; if so, The Big Fix evoked it from my own life.Best scenes without spoiling the story: Leon Redbone's "I Wanna Be Seduced" while Moses gets ready for a date with Lila Shay (Anspach).Moses at the TV station reviewing scenes of past demonstrations; the images are shown projected on his face. No real detail is visible except the tears on his cheeks. Powerful.The reunion of old friends as they dance around the swimming pool of the house that was built by selling out the old radical values.Finally, a sense of something incomplete at the end. The mystery solved, but every question not answered. How true to life!

bmacv When it was released in 1978, there was already a distance built into The Big Fix, based on a detective novel set in the ashes of the counterculture. The story had been commissioned by Rolling Stone magazine from Roger L. Simon, who wrote the script. On its release, the film was already drawing on images of the late 60s that had ceased to be memories but had already entered a misty mythology. Richard Dreyfuss, fresh from the Spielberg hits (Jaws, Close Encounters of the Third Kind) that had made him a star. not to mention his Academy Award for The Goodbye Girl), plays Moses Wine, aonetime rebel who has fallen on hardtimes. His wife, Bonnie Bedelia, has divorced him (though he dotes --rather tiresomely -- on his two sons), and he earns his keep as aprivate investigator when not smoking up and playing solitaire Clue in his -- there's no other word -- "pad." Operatives of a political campaign sign him on to find out who is waging a dirty-tricks campaign to link their candidate to a legendary radical, now disappeared deep into the underground. The story has some interesting twists, particularly those involving Susan Anspach, John Lithgow and F. Murray Abraham, but the plot tends to disappear into holes here and there, as though told in a marijuana haze. Viewed in the new millennium, The Big Fix unfolds behind two scrims of nostalgia: The one in the story itself, where 60s has-beens, unhappy with how the world has turned, yearn for barricades and love-ins; and the one revealed by the talents who made the movie, where that yearning for the heady days of the counterculture -- Berkeley! Vietnam! Hash brownies! -- has developed its own, peculiarly fusty period flavor.