You could always spot a Robert Ludlum novel from their distinctive titles. Possibly because their complicated, garrulous plots resist reduction to feature length only two adaptations hit the big screen during the mid-eighties, and John Frankenheimer - reunited with his scriptwriter from 'The Manchurian Candidate' - doesn't make the mess of this that a drunken Sam Peckinpah had made of 'The Osterman Weekend'.
Frankenheimer instead produced yet another smooth piece of hack work with an entertaining international cast (including Bernard Hepton in an unusually substantial role in a feature film and Lili Palmer making her screen swansong as Michael Caine's mother) and attractive locations with Caine tripping over so many corpses even the script loses count. The press conference where Caine also appears on a tv monitor in the foreground recalls the Frankenheimer of old. But you've already forgotten what you just saw even before it's over.
Frankenheimer instead produced yet another smooth piece of hack work with an entertaining international cast (including Bernard Hepton in an unusually substantial role in a feature film and Lili Palmer making her screen swansong as Michael Caine's mother) and attractive locations with Caine tripping over so many corpses even the script loses count. The press conference where Caine also appears on a tv monitor in the foreground recalls the Frankenheimer of old. But you've already forgotten what you just saw even before it's over.