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Years of hard hitting street journalism suggest to Fletch that this is too good to be true, so he starts looking into Stanwyck, to the irritation of his editor (Richard Libertini), who is expecting an article on the beach drugs. As he digs deeper, Fletch discovers that Stanwyck may not be the fine, upstanding citizen he appears to be and even worse, there’s something fishy going on with the LAPD down at the waterfront. The cops aren’t happy about the beach investigation, and Stanwyck has some powerful friends who don’t seem to like reporters very much. Now Fletch is facing a dead end on the drug case, an army of murder happy cops, and an 11 a.m. deadline from his editor.

Boy, wouldn’t it be lucky if both investigations turned out to be related somehow!

A peculiar aspect of Fletch as a character is that as a reporter with a date to meet, he seems unconcerned that he’s juggling two seemingly unrelated investigations and running into dead ends on both of them. But it doesn’t seem to bother him. I imagine Chase was cast for this role because of his openly conceited nature. And while I can’t say that Chase is much of an actor, he IS particularly gifted at being himself on camera. David Spade is not really that guy you see in his movies, but Chase is, and it serves him well here. But Fletch himself seems rather nonplussed by having set conflicting goals for himself, one of which may cost him his life, the other his job.

It’s not a big deal, but it’s the kind of thing you think about 30 minutes after the movie ends. For example, when we finally tie everything together and establish a clear antagonist, we never really settle on motive. Yes, there are bad people doing bad things, and Fletch is taking them all on with no allies other than a cub reporter named Larry (Geena Davis), Stanwyck’s bewildered wife (Dana Wheeler-Nicholson), and a suitcase full of wigs and false teeth. But after Fletch ultimately uncovers the vast, Machiavellian scheme arrayed against him, it’s not entirely satisfying because there’s never any clear reason WHY any of this is going on.

It’s almost as though certain powerful people decided to put their lives and careers on the line for no particular reason other than to give Chevy Chase an excuse to walk around smirking, rolling his eyes and insulting people for 98 minutes. I get the idea that for Chase, this was less an acting gig than it was an exercise in self entitlement - one that would ruin most other films but here, it’s an approach that’s essential to the role. It’s a funny movie, and Chase is unquestionably in his (narrow) element. But from a storytelling perspective, it’s all a little confusing.

But really, that’s okay. Fletch is a competent (if overly complex) mystery, and it’s lots of fun watching Chase weasel his way into and out of one tight spot after another, whether it be jail, a car chase, or Gail Stanwyck. Time hasn’t dulled a witty script, full of clever wordplay and suggestive innuendo. Harold Faltermyer’s score - reminiscent of his work on Beverly Hills Cop - is a little dated, but somehow combines the annoying sparkle of '80s synth pop with the moody, almost noirish atmosphere you want out for a good thriller.

Fletch holds up better than it should, and it’s actually fascinating to watch someone solve a mystery using microfilm instead of the Internet, pay phones instead of Skype, and getting on a plane to chase down a lead instead of having Justin Long hack into a computer on the other side of the planet. And OMG, people could smoke on camera and Geena Davis looks like she’s a teenager! Was the world really like this once? Fletch serves as an entertaining window into an era gone by, not just from a comedic standpoint, but also in the sense that one wonders how things might have been different had a once great comedy icon stuck to his bread and butter. Why did he zig instead of zag? Your guess is as good as mine.

After all, he’s Chevy Chase, and you’re not.

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