When I was a young child in 1978-79 watching this on HBO I thought this movie was cool because people blew up in it and a fairground ride went spinning out of control.
25 years later, I watch it again and hardly anything is cool about it. The dialogue is laughable, Kirk Douglas is ridiculous as a geriatric James Bond who leaps out 4 story bedroom windows in his underpants, comandeers a shiny new Cadillac just to drive it off the end of a pier, and seranades his girlfriend with an obscene phone call.
John Cassavetes looks like he's trying to parody some Dr. Strangelove-type villian by walking around in a sling with a black glove on his useless hand, glaring at everyone and spouting the worst sort of "bad guy" cliches.
What else? Well, when Carrie Snodgrass goes flying through the windshield of a car, the windshield shatters like some plate glass saloon window from a low-budget Western. And there's plenty of blood in this movie, but not a drop of it looks real.
Andrew Stevens goes from lovable son to patricidal maniac without so much as a shred of explanation. Amy Irving escapes from a supposedly fortress-like prison by simply shoving a bunch of packages at someone and running out the backdoor. Oh, yeah, you know when Andrew Stevens is really, REALLY mad when the veins on his forehead pop out. Sometimes his eyes even glow blue. There's more, but what's the use recounting it?
I'll give it two stars because it's not the worst movie ever. But at times it really comes close. Isn't DePalma supposed to be a genius or something?