Ethics have always been the passion of Professor Jack Lambert (Dan Aykroyd), a mild-mannered college lecturer who has perfected the art of morality, teaching it to legions of students who he manages to captivate with his unique perspective on human behaviour. However, despite his immense moral grounding and understanding of how any individual should conduct themselves, Jack finds himself in quite a precarious position when he discovers that his kindly elderly neighbour, Max (Jack Lemmon) is actually a fugitive war criminal, wanted by the European government for his role in the Holocaust, where he came to be known as the “Beast of Berkau”, a vicious commandant who was responsible for the cruel and unusual extermination of masses of people who went against the principles of his beloved regime. Suddenly, Jack is launched into a difficult position – he has built his life out of doing what is right (living by the maxim of ethical behaviour doing “more than is expected, but less than is allowed”, which he has built his entire career around), but he also feels compassion for the many victims of this man’s past. When public sentiment turns on Max, he decides to flee to South America, where he claims he will be given sanctuary to live out his days – and realizing that he will be getting away with mass murder, Jack is insistent on preventing the old man from escaping, taking it upon himself to exterminate his neighbour in cold blood, in much the same way as his victims suffered. The plan is a success, but when the murder is written off as a suicide, Jack makes sure to indicate that it was far from self-inflicted, and that it was the work of a vigilante hoping to make the old man pay for his misdeeds. The public lauds the unknown assailant as a hero, and Jack secretly relishes in having removed the embodiment of pure evil from the world – but he realizes that while getting away with murder may be easier than he imagined, the emotional toll it takes is far from easy to handle, and he finds himself being haunted by his actions, and regretting ever becoming involved in this scandal in the first place.

When I first encountered Getting Away with Murder, the principle of judging a book by its cover seemed too pertinent – a darkly comical satire about the intersections between history and morality, starring the formidable trio of Dan Aykroyd, Lily Tomlin and Jack Lemmon, and made by the veteran writer Harvey Miller, seemed too tempting to pass up. For all intents and purposes, this isn’t a bad film, since it has a lot of wonderful moments, and delivers in many ways. However, it’s far from a flawless one, and there are points where I even questioned whether this is actually a good film, or rather one that promised to give us something, but never quite provides any of it. A relatively limp comedy that functions more of a thought-provoking concept than a piece of entertainment, Getting Away with Murder isn’t always particularly successful, but it has a sense of humour that helps compensate for some fatal shortcomings, resulting in an unsteady but admirable effort that leaps for greatness, but falls short nearly every time, which gives it the sense of being a noble effort, but something of a failure. The epitome of a strong concept requiring a more assured hand at the helm, Getting Away with Murder does manage to keep us engaged to an extent, but not enough to actually push it over the edge and make it even a possible contender for a cult classic, situating it instead amongst failed attempts at inciting interesting discussions on serious issues through comedy, which is exactly what the intention of this film appeared to be. It isn’t all bad – my reaction was more of disappointed ambivalence rather than rousing adoration or apoplectic resentment – so there may be something here to glean for viewers interested in the material, but for the most part, Getting Away with Murder is a rather bland affair that seems to be actively pursuing something that it doesn’t realize is hopelessly out of its grasp, especially with the lack of commitment to the premise that it is exhibiting throughout.

There’s not a great deal to be said about Getting Away with Murder, since its a film that can be summarized in only a few short sentences. This kind of simplicity rarely goes unrewarded, especially when it comes to comedies that take the bold step to deconstruct certain ideas through the guise of dark humour, exposing the variety of contradictions and challenges underpinning some serious matters. Miller may not have had the most prolific career, but he did manage to work on a variety of films that looked at different aspects of the human condition – and considering this is his most high-profile work as a director, after working mainly as a writer and producer, it’s disappointing to see how he struggled to retain the lessons that come with experience, since this film ends up being a convoluted mess, despite the straightforward subject matter that formed the basis for what should’ve been a much better film. Ultimately, while we do know that many films do have messages, audiences simply don’t want to be lectured, especially about something as fundamental as basic human rights. Yet, this film seems compelled to tell us exactly why murder is wrong, and demonstrates, in vivid detail, the experience of being so wracked with guilt after committing a heinous crime. This certainly doesn’t mean it is without merit – the premise is exceptional (although not revolutionary), and could’ve made for a terrific film in the hands of someone who not only had a clear directorial vision, but also the willingness to take a few risks, which Miller seemed incapable of – Getting Away with Murder is a film that plays it far too safe, and the result is something that seems to be venturing towards a crescendo that will leave us reeling, but instead places us in a position of being utterly puzzled by what we’re seeing, which is never a good combination, especially for a film centred on the concept of human morality.

I’d suspect the primary reason for anyone to seek this film out would be due to the cast, and while he may not have done much to develop his style as a director based on his experience, Miller clearly did manage to attract a high-calibre of stars to take part in this film. The cast is led by Dan Aykroyd, who was still at his peak as a reliable comedic star, but gradually inching towards the decline of his stardom, and taking on performances more aligned with a character actor. Jack Lambert isn’t a role we’d normally expect Aykroyd to play – he does nail the socially-awkward, studious nature of the character, but when it comes to playing him as someone who can successfully execute a murder and cover it up, the actor seems to be an odd choice. However, perhaps the element of surprise was the entire purpose of the role, and we can’t begrudge him for taking on a role that seems so interesting in theory. The same can’t be said for Lily Tomlin, who is outright miscast, not only in terms of the confines of the character (by this point, Tomlin was a canonical comedic legend, not someone who should be taking on thankless roles as absent-minded love interests), but also in what the film gives her to do – there’s nothing much to this character, which seems like a waste, since Tomlin is far too legendary to be wasting her time in such a pointless role. The only actor who seems to be doing something worthwhile is Jack Lemmon, and Getting Away with Murder does well in countering the actor’s tendency to always play upright, decent characters. I’d imagine the reason behind casting Lemmon was simply to give him the chance to both play off the lovable persona he adopted in his final years, but also to have him portray the most despicable character imaginable – where else could you convincingly see an elderly Jack Lemmon play a vicious Nazi war criminal? Yet, even with such a promising cast, Getting Away with Murder seems to aimless, not knowing how to utilize an exceptionally gifted set of performers.

When you get down to it, Getting Away with Murder isn’t a particularly good film, and it is only worsened by the fact that there really isn’t anything simmering below its premise to suggest there was more to be done with this story, despite constant hints that it was heading somewhere interesting. We’ve seen acidic satires cover similar stories in the past, and Miller didn’t do anything here that could be called even close to unprecedented, despite it clearly believing itself to be occupying some elite company alongside much better dark comedies, when it actuality it barely even scratches the surface. Heavy on socially-charged discussion, but woefully light on laughs, there is a good film lurking beneath the final product, but it takes far too much work to get there, and we really need to question whether or not it’s worth all the effort. You could be persuaded to give it a chance based on the cast – none of the central trio are very bad, and it also has a terrific performance by the lovely Bonnie Hunt, who constantly reminds us of the fact that she deserved so much better as an actress – but even with their appearances here, the film struggles to find its voice, and instead devolves in a muddled, prosaic attempt at acerbic wit, when it actually seems more aligned with broad, bawdy comedy that seems wildly inappropriate for a plot that required much more nuance. It’s a mediocre film that had the potential to be a minor classic – and while we could be tempted to see something more in it, the fact remains that Getting Away with Murder earns its obscurity, and while it is never actively awful, it fails to make an impression, and ultimately ends up being nothing more than a diversion from superior works that audiences would be far better off pursuing instead of this one.