Clint Eastwood is a New Orleans cop, about as different from Dirty Harry as he could be. For one thing, he’s got custody of two daughters (one of them Alison Eastwood, his real-life daughter) and is a sucker for stray dogs, having four always underfoot and in bed with him. For another, he is obsessed with the prostitutes in the French Quarter, and likes to handcuff them. Not what you’d call incorruptible. Problems arise when a serial killer seems to be visiting the same girls he’s been seeing, and strangling them. Genevieve Bujold is a feminist working with an anti-rape group, and seems to know more about him that he does himself. The tension builds nicely, but I was vaguely disappointed at the end. I wanted a little more to come of his sexual quirks, but all we really got was a bad dream where he saw himself as the strangler.