It’s as galling a betrayal of a literary cult figure as Hollywood has ever produced, and Fletch Lives (1989), which wasn’t even based on any particular McDonald novel, was even worse-so much worse, in fact, that Fletch died, as a comedic franchise, or at least went into a coma that lasted more than 30 years. Fletch (1985) stuck reasonably close to the first book’s mystery plot but radically refashioned Fletch himself to fit its star’s penchant for broad mugging the film is lousy (in both senses of the word) with invented bits that allowed Chase to don goofy disguises and trot out silly accents, while every trace of the character’s shrewd intelligence was left behind on the page. As far as any true Fletch fan is concerned, however, we’re starting fresh here, because the two movies starring Chevy Chase in the title role absolutely do not count. Technically speaking, Confess, Fletch is the third feature adapted from Gregory McDonald’s popular series of novels (published between 19) about Irwin Maurice Fletcher, occasional investigative reporter and near-constant wiseass.
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