Walking, walking, walking…his name is Walker. His wife won’t know what hit her. I fondly recall this pedestrian passageway from the Los Angeles airport. Another weird view in a mirror.
Driving around sun-drenched LA. Beauty waits for the Beast. Another view in a glass.
The scenes from the movie trailer I remember seeing in 1967. Bam, bam, bam…who knew he was shooting at an empty bed? His target flew the coop long ago. He really messed up her bed, and not with rough sex. Is Walker shooting with blanks, as they say?
The obligatory after-passionate-sex scene when the couple usually takes langrous drags on cigarettes. No smoke here, no fire. Walker dangles his empty gun limply between his legs.
They sucumb to reverie…how they met. “You were drunk,” she says. She wore white. And who are those thugs shadowing them all the while. They sure “met cute.”
Yeah, but things didn’t turn out so great. Life’s no picnic in southern California suburbia…
Wife’s dead, a suicide with pills. Now he gets with her sister. Nice scenery in Santa Monica. Will she help him, he asks as he uses the scope to sight the penthouse where his prey is living? Is it an accident that they are the same color? A woman and a telescope, just a means to an end…getting that $93,000 he’s owed.
They set up Walker to be shot by a sniper, but he’s too smart for them. The bad guys get killed. The wonderful L.A. River is the setting. Thanks to the US Army Corps of Engineers for this splendid WPA Deco style set doubling as a public works flood control project.
Waiting in the hillside villa for the big guy, Chris wonders, “Does this guy feel anything?”
While he waits, a little TV. Part of the weird and sardonic social satire this movie contains.
Chris collapses after pummeling him, and leaves. But not before she sets the kitchen buzzing with multiple appliances running riot just to annoy him. The effect is of a poltergeist loose among consumer heaven.