Harry Moseby (Gene Hackman) is a football player-turned-PI. Rich actress Arlene Iverson (Janet Ward) hires Harry to find her daughter Delly (Melanie Griffith), a 15 year old runaway. Harry finds Delly hiding out in the Florida Keys with her stepfather (John Crawford) and free-spirited Paula (Jennifer Warren). Harry convinces Delly to return; she dies in a car wreck shortly afterwards. Harry suspects it wasn't an accident.
Night Moves tries blending noir grittiness with procedural plotting. Penn contrasts Harry's detective prowess with his failed sports career and crumbling marriage to Ellen (Susan Clark). Intentionally or not, the middle third recalls The Conversation: a suspicious "accident," witnesses warning Harry not to get involved. But Penn isn't Francis Ford Coppola, swapping opaque artistry for banal plotting and cardboard characters.
And banality's the order of the day. Alan Sharp's script offers clever moments - characters banter about Eric Rohmer and the Bermuda Triangle - but the story's bland stuff befitting The Rockford Files. This applies equally to Penn's affectless, utilitarian direction, the predictably oddball suspects, and Michael Small's chintzy score. The last act offers a half-clever twist, too late for anything more than a flashy finale.
Gene Hackman is fine, showing Harry as hardnosed investigator and vulnerable human. It's respectable work, but Harry Moseby's no Harry Caul. Jennifer Warren speaks in epigrams about Kennedys and erect nipples. James Woods and Edward Binns play low-rent creeps; John Crawford and Harris Yulin have minor roles. Melanie Griffith makes her obnoxious debut.
Night Moves has its fans, but I'm not among them. It lacks the depth, ambition or style of the era's best crime dramas, content on being a banal whodunit.