Six months after the disappearance of Tuscarora, PA businessman Tom Gruneman, his boss, Peter Cable, and his wife, Holly Gruneman, hire Tom's best friend, private detective John Klute to find out what happened to Tom, as the police have been unable to do so, and despite John having no expertise in missing persons cases. The only lead is a typewritten obscene letter Tom purportedly sent to Manhattan actress/model/call girl Bree Daniel, who admits to having received such letters from someone, and since having received several obscene telephone calls as well. The suggestion/belief is that Tom was one of Bree's past johns, although she has no recollection of him when shown his photograph. Bree tricking is more a compulsion than a financial need. In their initial encounters, John and Bree do whatever they can to exert their psychological dominance over the other, especially as Bree initially refused to even speak to him. Despite their less than friendly start, they embark on a personal ... Written by
Bree's apartment was built on a sound stage at a New York film studio where Jane Fonda could spend the night. The director even had a working toilet installed in the bathroom of the set. Jane contributed to decorating the apartment by deciding Bree would be a romance reader and have a cat. Jane remembered an actress from Lee Strasberg's private class that occasionally serviced John F. Kennedy, so she decided Bree had done this as well. A signed photo of Kennedy appears on the fridge in Bree's apartment. See more »
When Bree has drinks with one of her clients in his hotel, there is much clinking of ice on soundtrack but no ice in drinks. See more »
And for an hour... for an hour, I'm the best actress in the world, and the best fuck in the world.
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"Klute" is a terrific showcase for its leading lady, but it isn't much as a thriller...
Permeated by a kind of haughty, stoned decadence, Alan J. Pakula's "Klute" concerns a sexy, shaggy prostitute in N.Y.C. who is the only real link to a missing family man from suburbia; a close friend of the man asserts himself as detective on the case, and after questioning the girl and trailing her, he finds himself drawn to her. Billed as a mystery-thriller, "Klute" is more of a dramatic character study, with preconceived plot threads devised by two screenwriters who can barely keep their secrets from spilling out. The final moments which piece the story together don't ring true (starting about the time Jane Fonda attacks Donald Sutherland and runs out into the street), but until then it's a dandy show-piece for Fonda, who gives an Oscar-winning performance. The ins-and-outs of the hooker-biz aren't really explored, but we get all we need just by listening to Fonda's dialogue (her complaints to her psychiatrist, her need for Sutherland's companionship) and by seeing her living alone in her apartment. For the actress, it's stellar work; for director Pakula, it's a bit thin around the edges. ***1/2 from ****
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