In a restroom in the White House, a janitor finds secretary Carla Town dead. Metropolitan Police homicide detective Harlan Regis, whose apartment block is awaiting demolition in favor of a parking lot, is put on the case. At the White House, Regis is introduced to U.S. Secret Service Director Nick Spikings, National Security Advisor Alvin Jordan, and Secret Service agent Nina Chance. Spikings assigns Chance, a former Olympic gold-medal sharpshooter, to keep an eye on Regis.
White House janitor Cory Allen Luchessi was apparently unaccounted for on the night of the murder and had once made a pass at Carla. He is arrested and questioned, but his testimony and a clearly set-up piece of evidence lead Regis to suspect that the Secret Service may be involved. That night, Regis finds his apartment burglarized; the culprit escapes, and in a subsequent search, a hidden bug is found.
In a picture of Carla, Regis sees Burton Cash, the Secret Service agent assigned to Kyle Neil, the president's son. Regis figures out that Kyle had sex with Carla on the night of the murder. At a dance club, Regis talks with a young woman who says that Kyle once bragged that he once shared a mistress with his father. Carla's uncle's company, Brookline Associates, is the president's leading East Coast fundraiser, and also owns the apartment that Carla lived in.
Regis eventually discovers that Chance once was Kyle's bodyguard herself. When he confronts her, Chance explains that one night she discovered Kyle beating up his girlfriend. The Secret Service covered up the beating so that Kyle would not be arrested for assault, and Chance asked to be reassigned and was replaced by Cash. Upon being confronted by Regis, Kyle denies that he murdered Carla, but provides a special piece of information: among the bookings she made, Carla supposedly also ordered a car - despite not having a driver's license. Later on, Regis and Chance discover that the most recent entries in Carla's appointment book were forged.
With some clues left by Jordan, Regis finds out that Spikings has withheld several surveillance tapes from the night of the murder. Regis goes to Spikings' residence to question him; Spikings is willing to show the tape but is suddenly killed by a sniper. However, Regis and Chance escape the gunfire with the tape. They learn that Jordan engineered the murder in order to blackmail Neil into resigning, which would allow Dylan to assume office and have troops sent to North Korea.
Regis, Chance, and Regis's partner Stengel enter the White House tunnels. The sniper pursues them and wounds Stengel, but Chance manages to kill him. Pursued by the Secret Service, Regis just barely manages to get in contact with Neil and present him with the evidence of Jordan's conspiracy. Jordan attempts to shoot Neil, after being punched in the face, only for his shot to be intercepted by a handcuffed Chance, and he is killed by the Secret Service. Chance and Stengel are brought to a hospital, where they recover from their injuries. In gratitude for his rescue, Neil asks Regis if there is anything he can do, whereupon Regis brings up his impending eviction.
Producer Arnold Kopelson was attracted to Murder at 1600, having said that "lately, the White House has been vulnerable to a surprisingly wide variety of assaults," and along with producer Arnon Milchan offered the script to director Dwight Little, who accepted as despite his action film experience he had never made a suspense film, "and political thrillers are probably my favorite movie genre; I love those seminal conspiracy movies of the '70s."
The filmmakers then invited Wesley Snipes, considering him to have the physicality, intelligence and humor required for Harlan Regis, and Snipes accepted for the depth of the character and "the opportunity to do a suspense role, which is usually reserved for more mature actors." Diane Lane was attracted by the role of Agent Chance because "she stands by her personal code," and Lane had the markswoman experience required for the role.[2]
Although scenes were filmed in Washington, D.C., primary locations were in Toronto, Canada and nearby locations in Ontario. As Absolute Power was occupying the Oval Office set built for Dave, a new Oval Office was built at Cinespace Film Studios in Kleinburg. The film crew made many visits to the White House for reference in making what production designer Nelson Coates described as "the most architecturally accurate" recreation of the room. The Oval Office still stands at the studio, and has been used in productions such as Dick and The Sentinel.[3][4]
But then the movie kicks into auto - pilot. The last third of the film is a ready-made action movie plug-in. Without giving away a single secret, I can tell you that Regis and Chance find it necessary to break into the White House. And to do this, they must traverse a forgotten series of tunnels that lead by labyrinthine twists into the White House basement. The movie does what too many thrillers do: It establishes an interesting premise, and then instead of following it, substitutes standard action cliches. Will there be water, rats, electricity, dangerous secrets, hazards, security traps, flames, explosions and gunshots in the tunnel? If you think not, you haven't seen ``The Rock'' or all the other movies that inspire this sequence.
While our heroes sharpshooter are wading through the dangerous subterranean waters, let's step back and think. They need to tell the president something. He is walled off by a conspiracy. How can they get the information to him? I can think of two answers: (1) The president's son has a personal motive for wanting his father to get the information, and has complete access to him. (2) The cop is surrounded by TV cameras every time he steps outside. He could simply blurt out the truth, since there is no need to keep it secret.
The fact is, the entire movie is fiction, and so if it's entertaining me, then I'm grateful. It's only when a movie stops working that I ask questions. For example, in a later scene, Regis masquerades as a janitor and pushes a cart through the White House while holding his head down and whistling tunelessly.
Doesn't he know that holding your head down and whistling tunelessly is what *all* suspicious characters do when they disguise themselves as janitors? Isn't that like wearing a neon sign saying ``Impostor?'' I'd love to see a taut, competent police procedural based on a murder in the White House_one that followed standard procedures to see how they were warped by presidential power. ``Murder at 1600'' seems to have started in that direction, before the fatal decision was made to cut out large chunks of the story in order to import weary thriller cliches. If I want to see a movie about slogging through flooded tunnels, I'll watch ``The Third Man.''
The "1600" in the title, Murder at 1600, refers to a house number on Pennsylvania Avenue: the address of the White House. That makes this the third movie in three months (following Shadow Conspiracy and Absolute Power) to deal with high-level government cover-ups, murders, and conspiracies. Who said Americans are cynical about the Presidency?
Murder at 1600 isn't the worst of the trio (that dubious honor goes to Shadow Conspiracy), but it is easily the most preposterous. There's hardly a single aspect of this motion picture that seems more than superficially credible, and if the United States government is really run in the Keystone Cops manner depicted in Wayne Beach and David Hodgin's script, then this country is in a great deal more trouble than anyone suspects.
Murder at 1600 opens with a sex scene in the Oval Office, during which a unknown man is enjoying the favors of a gorgeous blond. (Could that man be the President? The President's son? The bald head of the Secret Service wearing a wig?) Shortly thereafter, the woman's bloody corpse is discovered in a White House bathroom. While the Secret Service swarms in to get the situation under control, Washington homicide detective Harlan Regis (Wesley Snipes) is called in to investigate. We know he's a good cop because a needlessly obvious prologue gives us a sample of his on-the-job talents as he uses unorthodox methods to save a suicidal man's life.
Regis is out of his depth on this murder, however. The head of the Secret Service, Nick Spikings (Daniel Benzali), is downright belligerent, and only the intervention of Alvin Jordan (Alan Alda), the President's National Security Advisor, prevents him from forcibly ejecting Regis from the White House. Nina Chance (Diane Lane), Regis' Secret Service liaison (and former gold medal winning sharpshooter), is equally frosty and unhelpful. And governmental forces begin to close ranks as the trail of blood points squarely at President Jack Neil (Ronny Cox) and his son, Kyle (Tate Donovan). Meanwhile, as if Neil doesn't have enough to worry about at home, an overseas hostage crisis threatens to boil over.
While there isn't much that director Dwight Little can do about the lack of intelligence in the storyline, he attempts (with varying success) to make up for this deficiency by generating a degree of tension during some of the otherwise-routine action sequences. And, although there's little doubt regarding the film's ultimate resolution, there is at least some suspense about exactly how it comes about.
Hollywood should be able to generate a more compelling picture with such a promising premise. Perhaps Murder at 1600's greatest flaw is that it's so ordinary. There's nothing new here: we have the maverick cop risking everything by taking on the system so that a killer can be brought to justice. Along the way, there are the requisite chases, fights, and shoot-outs, but nothing in this film, from beginning to end, sets itself apart as even slightly memorable. The subject matter, if not the presidency, deserves more respect.
Wesley Snipes is pleasant as usual, but this role could hardly be described as a challenge. Diane Lane fails to bring much emotion or appeal to the thankless role of Snipes' female sidekick. Despite displaying more energy than Lane, Dennis Miller (as Regis' partner) has less screen time. Daniel Benzali plays the stereotypical bully in a position of power. And Alan Alda, last seen traipsing through Woody Allen's Everyone Says I Love You, adds another less-than-sterling entry to his underwhelming recent resume.
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