Kiss Me DeadlyIt's a quote attributed to many: "Show me a man who resorts to violence, and I'll show you a man who has run out of ideas." That's what I thought of the first time I saw hard-nosed private detective Mike Hammer (Ralph Meeker) slap someone around...and it wouldn't be for the last time, not by a long shot. Kiss Me Deadly is a film noir thriller loosely adapted from "Kiss Me, Deadly" by Mickey Spillane, featuring his frequent protagonist (Hammer) investigating a convoluted plot that all began after he picked up--read: nearly ran over--a hitchhiker named Christina (Cloris Leachman).
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By the time that Kiss Me Deadly was made, film noir wasn't a "new thing". And hardboiled private eyes in black-and-white movies dealing with grey morality wasn't as uncommon as it was a decade prior. But if you take a look at the protagonists of those earlier films--like Sam Spade of The Maltese Falcon or Jeff Bailey of Out of the Past, and others--even though they may be antiheroes (at worst), they all somehow manage to adhere to at least some common elements of decency and intelligence that make them likable at the very least. Enter Mike Hammer in Kiss Me Deadly. From the first time we are introduced to Mike, it is as a surly sourpuss who grumbles as he opens his passenger door for Christina. Turns out that Christina is not only recently escaped from a mental institution where (she claims) she was imprisoned against her will, but that there is a conspiracy against her. After they are run off the road and abducted by some faceless killers--who do, in fact, violently kill Christina, and frame it to look like a car accident--Mike gets it into his head (once he's recovered) to try and figure out who attempted to kill him. His contact in law enforcement--a world-weary lieutenant named Pat (Wesley Addy)--tries to steer him off of the investigation, but as we will soon learn, Mike Hammer doesn't listen to things he doesn't want to hear. The problem with Mike is that he may be competent enough at entrapping and blackmailing unfaithful spouses with the assistance of his secretary/lover, Velda (Maxine Cooper), but he's not the quickest at putting the clues together, so he makes for a lousy detective. That's not to say that he's a completely ignorant clod; otherwise the dynamite someone planted in his car would have blown him--or at least his ebullient mechanic, Nick (Nick Dennis)--to smithereens. No, Mike knows when he's being tailed, for example; but the difference is that Mike actually seems to like having an excuse to rough someone up. Whereas Sam Spade loses the hapless Wilmer by deftly maneuvering out of sight in The Maltese Falcon, Mike toys with his pursuer, then wheels about and hurls popcorn in his face, right before hurling punches. It would be going too far to call Mike a "villain", but sympathetic or clever? Forget about it!
With the benefit of hindsight, it's impossible not to watch Kiss Me Deadly and see how influential it has been, regardless of whether it intended to leave its legacy or not. The movie oozes pulp fiction charm, so much so that its iconic "great whatsit" (i.e. the movie's "MacGuffin")--which is a glowing and implied-to-be nuclear suitcase--inspired other filmmakers to employ similar "Pandora's Boxes", such as in Quentin Tarantino's aptly named Pulp Fiction. This is the kind of film where style is front and center. There are even scenes which feel included solely for the sake of cutting them into a trailer designed to entice young men with images of beautiful (and occasionally scantily clad) women kissing Mike and fierce fights with fisticuffs flying. But once the movie starts, you start to wonder just whether Mike is truly deserving of the adoration he gets from these ladies. The biggest example of this is by way of Velda. Mike all but manipulates her into seducing (and then catching) men fooling around on their wives, despite her very clear affection for him. And when he visits one of the names that comes up associated with Christina--an amateur opera buff named Carmen Trivago (Fortunio Bonanova)--his way of encouraging this stereotypical Italian (complete with a pot of pasta cooking on the stove) is to crack his favorite record in twain. And in the last third of Kiss Me Deadly, you can usually count on Mike slapping someone around in almost every scene. So it becomes increasingly apparent that Mike isn't a "thinker", at least not to the extent his profession--or at least the film noir interpretation of his profession--tends to require. Once he finally figures out who the bad guy is--a loquacious semi-mastermind named Dr. G.E. Soberin (Albert Dekker)--he arrives to contribute nearly anything meaningful. Christina's roommate was a woman named Lily Carver; I say "was" because another woman named Gabrielle (Gaby Rodgers) had been assuming Lily's identity and the dim Mike never thought to question this or do any kind of background check on her...at least as much as such a thing could be done in 1955. And the cherry on top? When Mike approaches Gabrielle at Soberin's beach house--after she's already shot Soberin, mind you--he lets her shoot him too. Any other film noir private eye would at least anticipate this...especially with the gun still in her hand. But Mike's so used to punching his way out of problems that he hasn't considered any other solution, like not walking into a loaded gun. And his ignorance nearly costs him and Velda their lives.
Thinking back to how influential Kiss Me Deadly has been on filmmakers since, one wonders just what it was that was truly so enticing about the film. That's a loaded question, because for better or worse, Kiss Me Deadly is defiantly itself. It's not so much a satire of film noir, but a case could be made for that given the bold strokes with which director Robert Aldrich paints. From the reverse title credits to other idiosyncrasies--like an early example of not just an answering machine, but Mike in fact screening his calls in 1955--Kiss Me Deadly definitely rocks the boat when it comes to the status quo. Conversations range from the outlandish to subtly tense. My favorite is a quiet one had between Mike and Pat, where the cop intimates that the satchel Mike's been keeping under wraps is tied to secret nuclear programs like "The Manhattan Project". It's a meaningful warning, one that is meant to instill dread in Mike as much as it is in the audience, then at the height of anxiety about atomic weapons. It's the kind of unsettling interaction that reminds me of David Lynch's movies. (Unsurprisingly, the climax of Lynch's Lost Highway is a direct nod to this movie's.) At times, some of the dialogue is so ridiculous that the only way to swallow it is to take it as something coming from some primal place--the kinds of things our id cries out for, but we dare not utter. Christina is a full-on flibbertigibbet, expounding at length to the sullen Mike in the film's first act, practically speaking in code. And Gaby Rodger's performance as Lily/Gabrielle is so stilted, it makes one wonder if she was Aldrich's girlfriend at the time. (I kid, but seriously she feels awkward in every scene; is there a reason?) I think that the best way to look at Kiss Me Deadly is that it is like a riff on the film noir genre, but not truly a satire. It's more like it's exploring a metaphorical interpretation of these kinds of complex mysteries, depicting a world that is like a caricature of our own. Mike isn't a true noir hero, but isn't it interesting to see a thug like him occupy the same role? What would happen? What's in that glowing briefcase? Clearly something deadly, but it's more interesting to guess than have an answer told to you. I think that the myriad enigmas and headscratchers--along with some overblown acting, dialogue, and scenes--help give Kiss Me Deadly a legacy (intended or otherwise) that it wouldn't have had if it just played by the rules.
Recommended for: Fans of a formative, if unorthodox, film noir that has inspired filmmakers to defy narrative conventions (like logic or plausibility), and even those conventions of the noir genre (like a detective who prioritizes smarts over brawn). In another film, this might sound like a criticism, but here it is a compliment--a badge of honor. Kiss Me Deadly is an entertaining relic; like a wise (if slightly demented) old master, it has much to teach us about what makes a movie entertaining.
With the benefit of hindsight, it's impossible not to watch Kiss Me Deadly and see how influential it has been, regardless of whether it intended to leave its legacy or not. The movie oozes pulp fiction charm, so much so that its iconic "great whatsit" (i.e. the movie's "MacGuffin")--which is a glowing and implied-to-be nuclear suitcase--inspired other filmmakers to employ similar "Pandora's Boxes", such as in Quentin Tarantino's aptly named Pulp Fiction. This is the kind of film where style is front and center. There are even scenes which feel included solely for the sake of cutting them into a trailer designed to entice young men with images of beautiful (and occasionally scantily clad) women kissing Mike and fierce fights with fisticuffs flying. But once the movie starts, you start to wonder just whether Mike is truly deserving of the adoration he gets from these ladies. The biggest example of this is by way of Velda. Mike all but manipulates her into seducing (and then catching) men fooling around on their wives, despite her very clear affection for him. And when he visits one of the names that comes up associated with Christina--an amateur opera buff named Carmen Trivago (Fortunio Bonanova)--his way of encouraging this stereotypical Italian (complete with a pot of pasta cooking on the stove) is to crack his favorite record in twain. And in the last third of Kiss Me Deadly, you can usually count on Mike slapping someone around in almost every scene. So it becomes increasingly apparent that Mike isn't a "thinker", at least not to the extent his profession--or at least the film noir interpretation of his profession--tends to require. Once he finally figures out who the bad guy is--a loquacious semi-mastermind named Dr. G.E. Soberin (Albert Dekker)--he arrives to contribute nearly anything meaningful. Christina's roommate was a woman named Lily Carver; I say "was" because another woman named Gabrielle (Gaby Rodgers) had been assuming Lily's identity and the dim Mike never thought to question this or do any kind of background check on her...at least as much as such a thing could be done in 1955. And the cherry on top? When Mike approaches Gabrielle at Soberin's beach house--after she's already shot Soberin, mind you--he lets her shoot him too. Any other film noir private eye would at least anticipate this...especially with the gun still in her hand. But Mike's so used to punching his way out of problems that he hasn't considered any other solution, like not walking into a loaded gun. And his ignorance nearly costs him and Velda their lives.
Thinking back to how influential Kiss Me Deadly has been on filmmakers since, one wonders just what it was that was truly so enticing about the film. That's a loaded question, because for better or worse, Kiss Me Deadly is defiantly itself. It's not so much a satire of film noir, but a case could be made for that given the bold strokes with which director Robert Aldrich paints. From the reverse title credits to other idiosyncrasies--like an early example of not just an answering machine, but Mike in fact screening his calls in 1955--Kiss Me Deadly definitely rocks the boat when it comes to the status quo. Conversations range from the outlandish to subtly tense. My favorite is a quiet one had between Mike and Pat, where the cop intimates that the satchel Mike's been keeping under wraps is tied to secret nuclear programs like "The Manhattan Project". It's a meaningful warning, one that is meant to instill dread in Mike as much as it is in the audience, then at the height of anxiety about atomic weapons. It's the kind of unsettling interaction that reminds me of David Lynch's movies. (Unsurprisingly, the climax of Lynch's Lost Highway is a direct nod to this movie's.) At times, some of the dialogue is so ridiculous that the only way to swallow it is to take it as something coming from some primal place--the kinds of things our id cries out for, but we dare not utter. Christina is a full-on flibbertigibbet, expounding at length to the sullen Mike in the film's first act, practically speaking in code. And Gaby Rodger's performance as Lily/Gabrielle is so stilted, it makes one wonder if she was Aldrich's girlfriend at the time. (I kid, but seriously she feels awkward in every scene; is there a reason?) I think that the best way to look at Kiss Me Deadly is that it is like a riff on the film noir genre, but not truly a satire. It's more like it's exploring a metaphorical interpretation of these kinds of complex mysteries, depicting a world that is like a caricature of our own. Mike isn't a true noir hero, but isn't it interesting to see a thug like him occupy the same role? What would happen? What's in that glowing briefcase? Clearly something deadly, but it's more interesting to guess than have an answer told to you. I think that the myriad enigmas and headscratchers--along with some overblown acting, dialogue, and scenes--help give Kiss Me Deadly a legacy (intended or otherwise) that it wouldn't have had if it just played by the rules.
Recommended for: Fans of a formative, if unorthodox, film noir that has inspired filmmakers to defy narrative conventions (like logic or plausibility), and even those conventions of the noir genre (like a detective who prioritizes smarts over brawn). In another film, this might sound like a criticism, but here it is a compliment--a badge of honor. Kiss Me Deadly is an entertaining relic; like a wise (if slightly demented) old master, it has much to teach us about what makes a movie entertaining.