Audrey Hepburn returned to Hollywood in the late 1970s to much fanfare...but once her return movie, "Robin and Marian", was finished, Hollywood didn't know what to do with her. Throwing money her way to get the Audrey Hepburn name on a film product seemed to be the industry's answer, and Hepburn collected a $1,000,000 paycheck (plus profits, though I doubt there were any) for this adaptation of Sidney Sheldon's bestselling novel. It all must have looked good expense-wise, but one has to wonder if she even read the script. It's a pallid whodunit: pharmaceutical titan is killed in a mountain-climbing accident; his daughter, though left out of the industry-loop for most of her life, decides not to sell out and run the empire herself. This is disconcerting to her greedy relatives on the board of directors, who had hoped to reap profits in their boss's absence. After a police inspector deduces the billionaire was actually murdered, and the daughter's brakes go out on a winding mountain road, it becomes clear to her there's a fox in the henhouse. Boring mystery is 'spiced up' with a snuff-film subplot involving the killer, a bald, naked strangler and some unfortunate prostitutes (and which, like many of the story threads, is never resolved; this movie doesn't end, it just stops). Hepburn is lovingly lighted and, though she's rail-thin, is the sole bright spot in this catastrophe. Ben Gazzara, James Mason, Omar Sharif, Gert Fröbe, Romy Schneider, Irene Papas and Beatrice Straight are all wasted. Terence Young directed, bringing absolutely no personality to the job. Talented writer Laird Koenig did the adaptation, which is humorless and without a shred of suspense. The finale seems to be an homage to Hepburn's classic "Charade", but here the staging is so static and clumsy it doesn't come off. Rightfully regarded as one of the worst films of Hepburn's career. * from ****