Oh the 70s was a great time for crime features… although “I, the Jury” was made in the early eighties it had me thinking it was from the 70s like some sort leftovers that found itself in the wrong decade. And hey that’s not a bad thing at all. Originally it looked like it was cult-filmmaker Larry Cohen’s project, as he penned the screenplay and was to direct to only be replaced by Richard T. Heffron (Futureworld). This is another adaptation of novelist’s Mickey Spillane’s Mike Hammer character. Private detective Mike Hammer looks into the case to seek revenge when he learns of the killing of his one-armed ex-army buddy. What he digs up about his mate’s death, is something quite big.

“I, the Jury” is a tough as nails, lean and steamy pulp crime / film noir feature that’s sexually charged (an opened orgy sequence) and brutally violent (a ghastly slit throat) amongst a rather seedy backdrop. Filling in the role as the iconic Mike Hammer is a fittingly hardboiled, but wry Armand Assante. Surrounding him is a bunch of attractive, but formidable ladies in the shape of Barbara Carrera and Laurene Landon. Also you got the likes of Paul Sorvino, Alan King, Geoffrey Lewis and Barry Snider pitching in with good performances. Cohen’s story remains exhaustively captivating; by always being on the move in what is a complicated web of conspiracies and leads. The dialogues are bold. Sometimes contrived in its actions, but it does open up a can of worms. Heffron’s steadfast direction is economically staged with moments of thrilling engagements and brooding passages that he’s not afraid to bare flesh, but at times it felt like I was watching a long-winded TV episode. Bill Conti composes a titillatingly smoking blues score, which installs a whirlwind of emotion.