If Gregory McDonald's fourth Fletch book ("Fletch and the Widow Bradley") was his best, then this fifth Fletch novel is most certainly his worst. For "Fletch's Moxie," the author abandoned his winning style of fun, funny, fast-paced, dialogue-centric prose in favor of the traditional mixture of lengthy exposition mixed with dialogue, focusing on character studies...and it sucked! Yes, I am very sad to say, "Fletch's Moxie" sucked.
Can't help but notice that the Fletch books work very well when Fletch is more or less on his own in investigative mode, traveling here and there to solve a story's mystery. On the other hand, the Fletch books work horribly when the story is set in once location with a multitude of characters who Fletch interacts with throughout. Though the idea is sound, in practice the novels become a dull, unbalanced and unsatisfying character study of supporting players, while the main murder/mystery plot suffers.
With "Fletch's Moxie" the author flies everyone to Key West, Florida and keeps them there, with Fletch not so much investigating a murder but more so hanging out and getting to know the men and women surrounding his girlfriend Moxie's movie set, which recently had a murder. There's the washed-up, veteran director, the upstart Australian director, there's an older supporting actress and a hot, young African American actor and his wife, there's Moxie herself, as well as her drunken father Freddy, an older couple of Spanish heritage, and of course...Fletch himself. So what happens, all the players drink, and talk, and argue, and get drunk or high, and eat and drink, and sometimes go to the beach, and talk and blah blah boring...that is until the white supremacist Nazis arrive.
Um, what? Why introduce a violent, white supremacist American Nazis into a friggin Fletch novel? Why does "Fletch's Moxie" also appear to be an ode to art of acting, with lengthy page-time given over to Freddy's musings about life as a thespian? Also, the novel later reveals that the drunken Freddy was faking his drunkenness the entire novel in order to be near his daughter...and that it was Freddy all along who was the actual murderer of the criminal producer Steven Peterman, because of what Peterman did to his daughter, yet somehow Freddy wanted people to think his daughter Moxie was the murderer, and did not even lift a finger to save his daughter from being dragged off to jail for a crime she did not commit?? WHAT????
Even worse, this "fun" Fletch novel ends with a friggin suicide...Freddy's suicide! WTF? What the feck was Gregory McDonald thinking? "Fletch's Moxie" is just dull, poorly written and hard to read, and makes no fecking sense. My guess? No, my hope, is that Gregory McDonald did not actually write this. He couldn't have! There's a number of typos that gave me pause, and the mediocre writing didn't sound like McDonald's voice. I call shenanigans, this is a faux Fletch novel! There is no other explanation that makes sense.