The Carey Treatment (1972)

          Even though it’s executed with obvious craftsmanship and intelligence, The Carey Treatment suffers from a lack of novelty and substance, which isn’t helped by the jagged narrative rhythms that were presumably transposed from the Michael Crichton novel upon which the film is based. The best Crichton yarns have such fascinating underlying ideas that storytelling hiccups don’t matter, but The Carey Treatment is far from being one of Crichton’s best. James Coburn stars as Dr. Peter Carey, a swaggering pathologist newly arrived at a Boston hospital. Quickly shacking up with beautiful Dr. Georgia Hightower (Jennifer O’Neill), Carey springs into action when his old friend, Dr. David Tao (James Hong), is arrested for allegedly botching an illegal abortion that resulted in the death of a young woman with important society connections. The story gets confusing when Carey simultaneously investigates whether Tao actually performed the abortion and looks into the sordid lifestyle of Roger Hudson (Michael Blodgett), a pretty-boy masseuse with a bad habit of knocking up young women. Adding other dimensions to the story are Carey’s fraught relationships with a diligent policeman (Pat Hingle), a senior physician (Dan O’Herlihy), and various other characters.

         Director Blake Edwards, skewing toward the thriller side of his style but still lacing the picture with the sort of urbane dialogue found in his many comedy films, handles individual scenes effectively but can’t quite get a handle on the overarching storyline. It doesn’t help that the movie constantly puts Carey into antihero mode, because logic suffers when Carey does things like trapping a college girl in his car and then taking her for a terrifying high-speed ride along a cliff in order to extract information. Even though Carey’s ostensibly doing everything in the service of justice, he’s such an arrogant prick that it’s hard to root for him. That said, the performances are generally quite entertaining, with Alex Drier standing out as an eccentric blueblood whom Carey interrogates. And, for what it’s worth, O’Neill is beguilingly pretty. The Carey Treatment is murky and ultimately forgettable, but it’s pleasant enough for a single casual viewing. (Available at WarnerArchive.com)

The Carey Treatment: FUNKY

Coma (1978)

          One of the few genuine Renaissance men of 20th-century popular culture, Michael Crichton was a doctor-turned-novelist who leveraged his literary success for a lucrative film career as a screenwriter and occasional director. Every facet of his professional identity came together for Coma, his biggest hit as a director: Set in the medical milieu, the thriller features Crichton’s signature style of provocative science fiction. Ironically, however, he didn’t originate the story. Crichton adapted the film from a novel by another doctor-turned-author, Robin Cook. Yet Crichton’s distance from the material was probably a good thing, since his characters and plots often fell short of his wonderful ideas; perhaps owing to its mixed authorship, Coma has one of the smoothest narratives of any of Crichton’s film projects.

          The heroine of the piece is Dr. Susan Wheeler (Geneviève Bujold), a surgical resident who uncovers a bizarre conspiracy. It seems an abnormal number of healthy young patients at Boston Memorial Hospital are falling into inexplicable comas during routine surgical procedures. When Susan’s friend Nancy (Lois Chiles) becomes the latest victim, Susan investigates—despite stern warnings from her boss, Chief of Surgery Dr. George Harris (Richard Widmark), to stop snooping. Additionally, Susan doesn’t get much support from her on-again/off-again boyfriend, Dr. Mark Bellows (Michael Douglas). A self-absorbed chief resident who condescendingly belittles Susan’s theories, Mark believes Dr. Harris’ appraisal that Susan has succumbed to grief and stress. Alas, Susan’s fears prove justified, because she unearths an insidious connection between Boston Memorial and a mysterious facility called the Jefferson Institute. Before long, the movie accelerates into full-on thriller mode, with a hired killer (Lance LeGault) chasing after Susan to keep her from sharing the explosive truth she’s discovered.

          Layered with details about the medical profession that give a strong sense of credibility, Coma is a tight and focused film with carefully modulated suspense elements. The character work is a bit on the rudimentary side, and some supporting players—including Elizabeth Ashley, who plays a nurse at the Jefferson Institute—merely deliver exposition. Still, the piece has a great look, with interesting settings such as the tunnels beneath and within a hospital, and Bujold’s chilly screen persona keeps things from getting too melodramatic. Douglas contrasts her reserved quality with his hot-blooded leading-man charisma, and Widmark, as always, makes a memorable prick. (Watch for future stars Ed Harris, Tom Selleck, and Rip Torn in small roles.) The ending is a bit hackneyed, but the vibe of Coma is so consistently creepy, and the execution of the movie is so slick, that Coma is thoroughly enjoyable escapism.

Coma: GROOVY