Whiffs (1975)

Whiffs is the kind of offbeat 1970s crime-comedy that feels like it was smuggled out of a more cynical, more mischievous America—where authority is suspect, institutions are absurd, and the punchlines land with a sting. Elliott Gould gives it that loose-limbed, slyly exasperated charm he does so well, turning a bizarre premise into something oddly human, while Ted Post keeps the pacing brisk and the tone perched between satirical bite and caper-movie fun. There’s a scrappy, anything-goes energy to it, the sort that makes you lean in because you’re not sure whether you’ll get a laugh, a jab at the system, or both in the same scene. It won’t be for everyone—the humor is dark and the setup is unapologetically weird—but if you like your crime stories with a crooked grin and a countercultural edge, this one’s a curious treat.

Whiffs is clearly aiming for a dark, anti-establishment crime comedy, using Elliott Gould’s laid-back persona to turn a grim premise—military experimentation and nerve gas—into a cheeky caper. The problem is it rarely finds the right tone: the humor can feel crass and oddly tasteless, and the screenplay doesn’t do the heavy lifting needed to make the satire land or the plot feel smart. You may keep waiting for it to cash in on its provocative setup, but it tends to waste its own potential with jokes and beats that don’t build to much. If you’re curious about offbeat 70s misfires or you’ll watch Gould in anything, there are moments of personality, but if you want sharp writing or comedy with real bite, this probably isn’t your night.