Finders Keepers, the penultimate narrative feature film from director Richard Lester, seems to be largely forgotten today. It is one of only two Lester films that has not yet had a DVD release (the other being his final film, 1989's The Return of the Musketeers). Audiences, from what I can gather, seem to regard the film as mediocre at best. And I suppose I can see where they're coming from. Finders Keepers isn't the sort of movie that grabs your attention. It lacks the star power of Lester's preceding films (The Three and Four Musketeers, Juggernaut, Robin and Marian, Superman II and III) as well as the artistic energy that marked his '60s masterpieces — A Hard Day's Night, The Knack ...and How to Get It, How I Won the War and Petulia. Its production immediately followed that of Superman III, which is generally regarded as the low point of Lester's career (although I consider myself one of that film's few defenders).
But I would argue, as Vincent Canby did in his review upon the film's release, that Finders Keepers has value, is a generally good movie, and is worth seeking out a copy, especially if you're a Lester fan, as I am. It's an idiosyncratic, unassuming comedy that opts for a steady stream of amusement rather than belly laughs, and it's kept interesting by some subtle but welcome touches from its venerable director.
The story concerns a stash of cash that, in the opening scene, heiress Georgiana Latimer (Pamela Stephenson) and her lover/partner in crime, Josef Sirola (Ed Lauter), steal from Georgiana's father's safe. They seal the money in a coffin and arrange to ship it via train to New York. Unfortunately for them, however, Michael Rangeloff (Michael O'Keefe, of Caddyshack and The Great Santini), our hero, enters the train station at the same time. Michael is a down-on-his-luck roller-derby coach on the run from both his derby team (they're angry at him for losing their venue) and the local cops (they caught him in a tryst with the police chief's wife). Disguised in a soldier's uniform and eager to avoid the scrutiny of two officers, Michael sees the coffin and drapes a flag over it, assuming the role of the army buddy escorting a fallen soldier to his final resting place. It's only a matter of time, the thieves figure, before Michael discovers the coffin's true contents. And the chase is on.
The action in Finders Keepers is driven by confusion and coincidence. Characters cross paths by chance, and much of their interaction is marked by various forms of mistaken identity. Georgiana sends Michael a threat on a piece of newspaper that happens to include an item about a soldier missing in action. Michael assumes that that's the soldier in the coffin. The train's doddering old conductor, Stapleton (David Wayne), is determined to get the coffin to the missing soldier's hometown in Nebraska, which complicates matters for Michael and the thieves as well as for the mayor of the Nebraska town (Brian Dennehy) and his dimwitted nephew, who is played by a young, up-and-coming actor, in his third film role, named Jim Carrey.
For those watching the film today, Carrey will probably be the most famous person involved. Although he doesn't have a whole lot to do here, he displays great energy and enthusiasm, and it's fascinating to see him at a point where his comic potential was just starting to show. If you'd like, you can see Finders Keepers as a passing of the torch from Lester, whom I consider a main player in advancing the vocabulary of movie comedy in the '60s, to Carrey, whose buoyant persona went on to have such an impact on the genre in the '90s. One era tips its hat in farewell as another begins its rise. Even in the evening of his career, though, Lester handles much of the staging quite deftly. He always specialized in utilizing the reactions of background characters to create a mood (see A Hard Day's Night and The Knack), and that talent is on display here, too. As Michael tells his life story while on the train, a passenger sitting nearby groans audibly. It makes for perhaps the biggest laugh in the film. Under Lester's direction, it's effective, even post-Airplane! Other nicely placed bits of absurdity echo Lester's glory days as well, such as the small-town marching band that plays 'Mad About the Boy' upon the coffin's arrival.
O'Keefe as a leading man isn't as captivating as Carrey would go on to be, but he's affable and does a good job. His performance, much like the movie itself, doesn't bowl you over but is endearing and humorous enough to keep you interested. He is helped by a resourceful supporting cast, including Beverly D'Angelo as Standish, a struggling actress experiencing a nervous breakdown who becomes Michael's love interest, and Louis Gossett, Jr., as Century, Michael's con-man mentor who drops in to lend a helping hand. Dennehy, whose dramatic skills are well known, blusters to good comedic effect and works quite well opposite Carrey and Barbara Kermode, who is amusing as another oddball member of the dysfunctional Nebraska family. Jack Riley does good work in the underdeveloped role of the FBI agent investigating the robbery. His first scene, in which he works the crime scene while nursing a cold, is wonderfully off-kilter. Unfortunately this early promise doesn't carry over to his character's later scenes, which merely use him as the guy who shows up at the right time to catch the fugitives.
Most deserving of accolades among the cast is probably David Wayne, a veteran stage and screen actor with notable roles in films such as Adam's Rib and Joseph Losey's 1951 remake of M. As Stapleton, the train conductor who really ought to retire but is too stubborn to do so, Wayne displays impeccable comedic timing. His seasoned-pro attitude is perfect for the role of a man dedicated to a fault to preserving the old-school discipline that he feels his profession is losing to the passage of time.
One can sense an undercurrent of wistfulness for the past throughout the film. Maybe that's the reason it's set in 1973, when it could just as easily have taken place in 1984. The America of the film (even though it was filmed in Canada) is on the brink of the loss of innocence that came with Watergate. (A significant subplot involves Stapleton holding sway with President 'Nickerson.') And the experience of the Vietnam War is potent in the film as well: 'Now, that war you was in...' Stapleton asks Michael, 'who won?' Michael, although not a real veteran, still answers honestly: 'Nobody.' One can debate the usefulness and tastefulness of using that war as a comedic setup for this specific type of film, but I see it as an attempt on the filmmakers' part to bring to the surface their grappling with the past. Lines of dialogue mocking the Beatles, with whom Lester achieved directorial prominence via A Hard Day's Night, and Superman, the biggest film franchise Lester was involved with, bracket the director's career and hint at the imminence of his farewell to directing. And when the credits roll, the soundtrack abruptly cues up 'American Pie,' perhaps the quintessential pop song about processing the 20th-century American experience through popular culture.
What strikes me most about Finders Keepers is the uncertainty that pervades it. Its two main locales housing the action are in motion — the train en route and, at the film's climax, a house being towed. The characters are on unsure footing, both literally and figuratively. In true screwball fashion, every character is at the mercy of fate; none is in control. Even Century, the experienced con artist, has his limits: when he has to steer a truck, he can only fumble helplessly. The film brings out the humor, and occasional pathos, in uncertainty. Perhaps it doesn't do so at the level of the classic screwball comedies, but it successfully amuses while prompting us to think about what has come before.
Isn't that worth something?
Isn't that worth something?
