Once upon a time, I brought a Gregory Mcdonald Fletch novel into the offices of the Boston Celtics. What was I doing there? Researching a paper on basketball salaries for my Econometrics class. Why was I reading a Fletch novel? I was also taking a semester on mysteries as an English elective. Totally immersed student, I was, as one can clearly tell from the fact that I barely [BARELY!] got to a movie theater more than forty times that year. I am the soul of dedication.
I remember the moment because the Celtics exec I met asked me if I like Fletch novels and volunteered his “meh” before I even spoke up. When you’re an exec for an NBA team that boasts a front court of Larry Bird–Robert Parish–Kevin McHale, you don’t need to wait for other people’s opinions.
This is relevant, believe it or not, because Confess, Fletch is set in Boston. I find it a little suspect that Fletch didn’t take any crap from the natives while consistently sporting a Los Angeles Lakers insignia, but this is a work of fiction after all.
I know what you’re thinking; I had the same concern. How could anybody but Chevy Chase do justice to the role of Fletch? How could anyone else bear Fletch’s faux crown of a Lakers baseball cap? Let’s get this out of the way now: Jon Hamm will not make you forget Chevy Chase; not by a long shot. However, Hamm ain’t bad. I think he makes an acceptable Fletch. He’s got the perpetual glibness down pat, as well as the inability to take anything seriously. I certainly enjoy a version of Fletch that sees life as one big game show; the question now is how appropriate is that attitude in the 21st century? As you know, I’m no fan of MAGA, but they aren’t wrong when they point out there are several subjects that one could treat with less dignity in 1985, i.e. an era that consistently and perpetually ignored minority, women, and LGBT issues.
The role of Fletch (Hamm) himself has changed dramatically as well since the books were written. Why, the Lakers aren’t even the Celtics’ West Coast rival at the present moment (not that basketball is a big theme in the novels). Fletch is no longer an investigative reporter. In the age of cellphones, the internet, and fake news, there’s neither money nor need for any single person to be “investigating.” Every person on the planet is now an investigative reporter of sorts. Of course, “investigative reporters” in the 21st century are in search of not truth, but confirmation bias. Hence, Fletch as a former investigative reporter earns a living as a mock PI. And currently, he’s in Boston searching for stolen art work.
When Fletch arrives at his temporary home in Back Bay, there’s a dead woman downstairs. The evidence against our hero is damning, hence Detective Monroe (Roy Wood Jr.) wants him to Confess, Fletch. Fletch, of course, didn’t do it. “Why would I call the police and then stay in the apartment?” He was annoyed that his call to police is dismissed by the non-emergency line; the officer on the other end encourages Fletch to call 
the emergency number, baffling our hero. After all, the “emergency” part is over. “Can you transfer me to homicide? I think they might be interested.”
Marcia Gay Harden gets to have fun here as the contessa mother to Fletch’s Italian girlfriend (Lorenza Izzo). Can’t say I’ve ever seen MGH wear an Italian accent or play sex games. You can sense her inner smile every time she pronounces “Fletch” as “Flesssshh.” Also having fun is Ayden Mayeri as Detective Monroe’s decidedly ethnic junior partner. Clearly, a number of people enjoyed making this film; I wish it were that easy to translate into a genuinely fun film.
For all Confess, Fletch follows the footprints of the 1985 original; it reminded me more of another 1980s crime franchise: Beverly Hill Cop. Both films are about a wise-cracking, good-natured, detective constantly showing up the police to get to the bottom of a case. While Fletch and Beverly Hills Cop are good company to keep, Confess, Fletch isn’t as good as either film … but it is perhaps better than their sequels.
A revival of McDonald’s tec galoot
On a case with murder at the root
The aptly named “Hamm”
Don’t seem to give a damn
While he’s no Chase, he’s perhaps worthy of pursuit
Rated R, 98 Minutes
Director: Greg Mottola
Writer: Zev Borow, Greg Mottola
Genre: The glib nature of homicide
Type of being most likely to enjoy this film: People who enjoy Jon Hamm on Progressive commercials
Type of being least likely to enjoy this film: The fierce defenders of Chevy Chase, if they exist
