As the story opens, architect Cliff Murphy (James Brolin) has retreated into his profession after the death of his wife. He joins his co-workers who have gathered at a local bar to signal the sale of his employers' firm to a new set of partners. The celebrants soon miss Cliff's presence and for good reason: he has scampered off with a splendrous young blonde, Jennifer (Isabelle Truchon). Apparently lacking self-denial, the duo soon consummate their newly-hatched relationship within the cramped bounds of Jennifer's automobile. This affair of the loins turns equivocal for Cliff during the passionate pair's follow-up date the next evening when, after their common interest results in a soft porn living room floor encounter, Jennifer disappears and Cliff finds himself to be alone, but for an upstairs and very fresh murder victim. Cliff then pays a visit to a friend and criminal attorney, Sara (Meg Foster) whom he must convince of his innocence. We are then tasked, alongside the beleaguered architect, with recalling any clues that might bring about his freedom. If one would care to bother with analysing the scenario, it will soon become palpable that an ongoing flux of coincidences fancifully moves the paranoia based action. The film is paced to a quick beat, and the largely capable cast generally avoids over emoting, with specially good work from Foster. Brolin, whose hirsute predilections for this production give him the appearance of a latter-day Wolfman, is not obligated to perform beyond his circumscribed aptitude, and his customary combination of perplexity and outrage is appropriate for his character. Talented Dorothee Berryman manages to make something interesting of her role, but June Chadwick cannot seem to figure out hers, and is undone in the attempt. Director Jim Kaufman induces some excellent turns from his cast but his endeavours cannot handle by half the absurdities of the screenplay, by Paul Koval and the film's editor, Paul Ziller. Montreal's suburbs in autumn are served well by a blend of skills from cinematographer Rodney Gibbons and set designer Richard Tasse, but the score by Marty Simon is consistently intrusive. In sum, this is a piece which moves along smartly and provides choice moments from some accomplished performers, but the jarring elements stemming from an overstrained and oft silly narrative ultimately lay it low.