disgusting, overrated, pointless

Absolutely the worst movie.

In truth, there is barely enough story here to make a film.

One of the worst ways to make a cult movie is to set out to make a cult movie.

I'm not sure why Charles Bronson chose to star in "St. Ives" during the peak period of his career, since it's far from the tough guy roles that made him famous. Maybe he liked the promised change of pace. I do admit that Bronson is fine in the title role, more of a troubleshooter and go- between instead of a violent individual. Unfortunately, he is surrounded by material that's kind of lacklustre. The movie as a whole lacks edge. I know this is more of a mystery than an action exercise, but a little more action would have sparked things up considerably. It doesn't help that director J. Lee Thompson makes the entire movie look and feel more like a made for television exercise rather than a theatrical movie. This isn't actively awful, but I would only recommend it to die hard Bronson fans.

St Ives was the first fruit of what turned out to be a fecund collaboration between tough-guy actor Charles Bronson and veteran British filmmaker J Lee Thompson. Based on a novel by Ross Thomas (The Procane Chronicle), St Ives is clearly a contribution to the 1970s neo-noir cycle, the Watergate-era revival of the hard-boiled detective story. It's not a major contribution to the genre – it pales beside The Long Goodbye, Chinatown or Night Moves – but it's an entertaining watch, well cast (including a cameo by genre veteran Elisha Cook) and it leaves a subtly bitter taste in the mouth.Raymond St Ives (Bronson) is a retired sports writer and wannabe Great American Novelist who agrees to act as a go-between for a rich old villain Abner Procane (John Houseman channelling Sydney Greenstreet) who has had his memoirs stolen. St Ives is dragged into a world of swank mansions, sordid downtown locations, corrupt cops, petty criminals who meet nasty ends and, of course, a femme-fatale (Jacqueline Bissett) who is looking out for herself. This last character doesn't subvert the genre expectation in the post-feminist way of Chinatown, nor are the Bogart/Bacall exchanges between Bissett and Bronson entirely convincing (there is an air of pastiche here).The film is set in Los Angeles and it is no coincidence that Procane spends his time watching old silent epics as a form of (American) dream therapy, an escape from his neuroses; even his criminal scheme takes place at a drive-in cinema. There's a subtext involving old Hollywood being used as a screen which hides the sordid realities of contemporary American life – the climax involves the rich old man's screen being rolled back to reveal his friend and psychiatric as the prime mover of a plot against him, a plot motivated by envy, greed and Oedipal hatred. The final has Bronson refusing four million dollars ("it's expensive being honest") and handing over the cash and the femme-fatale, leaving both in the hands of an 'honest' cop, his honesty held in the balance as sex and filthy lucre present themselves as temptations to climb into the 'bucket of faeces', as the cop had previously described the world of criminality. The ending presents us not with the happy denouement we first saw Procane lulling himself with in front of a silent film but an ambiguous moment of ever-present inducement to dirty one's hands with ill-gotten gains, the truth of the American dream.

Bronson fans may appreciate this (as noted throughout the comments), but Ross Thomas/Oliver Bleek aficionados will be disappointed. None of the superb dialog, efficient language, or 'wisdom' of Thomas' work cuts through the movie. This is especially true if you know the book from which it is based ('The Procane Chronicles').One of the things that makes Thomas an excellent read is his ability to not spell out the motivations of every character. Often, the reader is left to piece things together. In the context of the movie, however, it just doesn't work...Bronson's motivation never really makes sense (in the books, his reluctance to participate is interesting, for example).I was compelled to finish watching it, however. I had hoped for more. I suspect I will enjoy other Bronson films quite a bit more, as my expectations will differ.

(Some Spoilers) Priviat eye-like movie with retired newspaper columnist and now unpublished book author Raymond St. Ives, Charles Bronson, getting hired to be the go between in a switch of $100,000.00 for a number of personal ledgers of eccentric multi-millionaire and criminal master-mind Abner Procane, John Houseman. At first the job that the down and out St. Ives has seems to be a lead pipe cinch. The $10,000.00 that he'll get for it will come in handy for the compulsive gambling habit that he has and he thinks nothing of it. Going to an all night laundromat in L.A to pick up the ledgers and hand over the cash for them St. Ives finds the person that he's supposed to do the switch with stone cold dead,Jack Boykins ,Jerrid Brutsche, is found spinning in a washer-dryer with his neck broker. What was to be a simple delivery and exchange for St. Ives turns out to be a string of murders. All that leads to a $4,000,000.00 pay-off, for a number of pages from Procane's ledgers that has information of his dealing with the president of International Electric George McDuff, Norman Palmer. McDuff is involved in setting up an under the table deal with a member of the Saudie royal family that would net him at least a one hundred million dollar contract. Classy and well acted "St.Ives" has the beautiful Jackie Bisset, Janet Whistler, as the femme fatal in this film-noir drama set in 1976 L.A. John Houseman seems to be really enjoying the role that he has as criminal master mind Abner Procane who prides himself as never committing any act of violence in his long and successful crime career. The non violent Procane only in uses his smarts and soring intellect to get where he's gotten and not any rough stuff. As if he were playing a number of games of championship chess all which was so accurately recorded by him in the stolen ledgers. Jackie Bissett is as gorgeous as ever as Porcane's aid, or partner in crime, Janet Whistler who turns out to be playing both sides of the law to get just what she wants. Maximillian Schell pops up in the movie every now and then as Porcane's personal psychiatrist, Dr. John Constable, who has more on his mind that the fantasies and fears of his patient. The movie has a movie within a movie scene when we see the switch between the valuable information in Procane's ledger between go-between's of the Saudie Sheik and McDuff that leads to a bloody shoot-out outside the drive-in movie where the switch was made. Charles Bronson's St. Ives as usual overcomes the odds to get to the bottom of the case that he's on that for one of those involved ends up at the bottom of Abner Procane's giant swimming pool. Bronson is pushed around and beaten up a number of times in the film but like in all of his movies he comes out on top in the end, especially with Miss. Bisset. The movie at the drive-in seemed to have a film that had an hour and a half long cattle stampede. This made me wonder if the film-makers of "St.Ives" got that idea from the great bad-movie director Ed Wood and copied it off from the legendary buffalo stampede of the Ed Wood directed film "Glen or Glenda".