Jule’s Feiffer’s brilliant 1960s-era black comedy, “Little Murders,” was an uncannily prescient exploration of the roots of America’s modern culture of gun violence.

A film version featuring Elliott Gould came out in 1971. It was, during that period, on our short list of favorite movies.

When I just tried searching for how to watch it today, I found used DVDs available starting at about $75, with prices escalating rapidly after that.

Is it in demand because of its uncanny reflection of current headlines? Unknown.

Elliott Gould owned the film rights and co-produced the movie as well as starring in it, according to a Wikipedia entry. Alan Arlin made his debut as director, as well as having a key part in the film. Donald Southerland was also in a central role.

It doesn’t look like any of the streaming services offer it, and those used DVDs are too rich for me. I certainly wish there was a way to watch it in order to see if it lives up to my recollections.

Perhaps Feiffer’s original screen play can fill the gap, but I doubt it has the same impact.

Anyway, here’s a synopsis from Wikipedia.

Patsy Newquist is a 27-year-old interior designer who lives in a New York City rife with street crime, noise, obscene phone calls, power blackouts and unsolved homicides. When she sees a defenseless man being attacked by street thugs, she intervenes, but is surprised when the passive victim doesn’t even bother to thank her. She ends up attracted to the man, Alfred Chamberlain, a photographer, but finds that he is emotionally vacant, barely able to feel pain or pleasure. He permits muggers to beat him up until they get tired and go away.

Patsy is accustomed to molding men into doing her bidding. Alfred is different. When she brings him home to meet her parents and brother, he is almost non-verbal, except to tell her that he doesn’t care for families. He learns that Patsy had another brother who was murdered for no known reason. Patsy’s eccentric family is surprised when she announces their intention to wed, then amazed when their marriage ceremony conducted by the existential Rev. Dupas turns into a free-for-all.

Determined to discover why her new husband is the way he is, Patsy coaxes Alfred into traveling to Chicago to visit his parents. He hasn’t seen them since he was 17, but asks them to help with a questionnaire about his childhood at Patsy’s request.

Alfred ultimately agrees to try to become Patsy’s kind of man, the kind willing to “fight back”. The instant that happens, a sniper’s bullet kills Patsy, again for no apparent reason. A blood-splattered Alfred goes to her parents’ apartment, New Yorkers barely noticing his state. He descends into a silent stupor, Patsy’s father even having to feed him.

A ranting, disturbed police detective, Lt. Practice, drops by, almost unable to function due to the number of unsolved murders in the city. After he leaves, Alfred goes for a walk in the park. He returns with a rifle, which he doesn’t know how to load. Patsy’s father shows him how. Then the two of them, along with Patsy’s brother, take turns shooting people down on the street.