#568: ALDRICH, Robert: Kiss Me Deadly (1955)

ALDRICH, Robert (United States)
Kiss Me Deadly [1955]
Spine #568
Blu-ray

In this atomic adaptation of Mickey Spillane's novel, directed by Robert Aldrich, the good manners of the 1950s are blown to smithereens. Ralph Meeker stars as snarling private dick Mike Hammer, whose decision one dark, lonely night to pick up a hitchhiking woman sends him down some terrifying byways. Brazen and bleak, Kiss Me Deadly is a film noir masterwork as well as an essential piece of cold-war paranoia, and it features as nervy an ending as has ever been seen in American cinema.

106 minutes
Black & White
Monaural
1:66:1 aspect ratio
Criterion Release 2011
Director/Writer


Screenplay by A. I. Bezzerides.
Robert Aldrich was 37 when he directed Kiss Me Deadly.

Had he not insisted on going into the film business against his family's wishes, Aldrich (Nelson Rockefeller's cousin) would have inherited a large family fortune. Instead -- disowned -- he struck out on his own, beginning as an assistant at RKO. His early experience included some television work in the early 50s, as well as assisting Chaplin on "Limelight." His big break came when Burt Lancaster hired him to direct Apache. It did well and Vera Cruz, which followed, was an even bigger hit.

Aldrich then joined up with producer Victor Saville (who had previously purchased the rights to nearly all of Mickey Spillane's output), co-producing and directing this film.

Bezzerides, the screenwriter, gutted the book, and completely remade the Mike Hammer character. The film had major censorship problems due to the graphic depiction of sex and violence.

Apparently, Aldrich was tough to get along with. Frank Sinatra once swore at him, "I ought to have you decapitated and buried in the fucking desert you sweaty four-eyed ape. They won't even mark your grave with an X and no one will notice you're gone."

Other Aldrich films in the Collection:

#1116: The Flight Of The Phoenix (1965)

The Film

A well-made film usually earns its bona fides in the first few minutes. This one does so in spades.

Christina Bailey (Cloris Leachman, in her film debut)  -- wearing a trenchcoat, and nothing else -- is frantically running down a highway on a dark night. She tries to flag down a car without success, then stands in the middle of the road with her hands up as Mike Hammer (Ralph Meeker) skids off the road to avoid hitting her.

Hammer can't restart his sports car (but the radio still works!). The late-night DJ plays Nat King Cole singing "I'd Rather Have the Blues," as Christina tries to figure out how to open the door.

The credits roll backwards!

According to IMDb, this was the first time that was ever done. This list shows the other 20 films which did this, including some of my favorite movies: Se7en, Irreversible, Run Lola Run, Ichi the Killer, and Repo Man! The only sound under the credits is the song on the radio and Christina's heavy breathing.

The process (rear-screen projection) is fairly sophisticated for most of this film, but in this beginning section, and a few other places, it feels subpar.

The dialogue (more Bezzerides than Spillane, we are lead to believe) is frequently crackingly brilliant. At other times, it borders on just plain bad; a few samples:

VELDA (Maxine Cooper)

You’re never around when I need you and you never need me when I’m around.

NICK (Nick Dennis) to SAMMY (Jerry Zinnemann)

Hey Sammy, look my friend just returned from the grave. (To Mike): I’m sure glad you’re back Mike. Like Lazarus, rose out of the grave.

and my favorite:

VELDA (to Mike)

Do me a favor, will ya? Stay away from the windows. Someone might blow you a kiss.

On the other hand, Aldridge is brilliant with paying close attention to all the little things that make up great shots and scenes. The torture scene which caused the filmmakers such trouble is actually quite understated -- we never see anyone's face, only legs and shoes. Terrifying.

Aldridge is not afraid to elide with confidence. For example, after the car crash, we share a POV with Hammer as he wakes up (all diagonal German expressionism!), and after a few words, he is outside the hospital, fit as a fiddle. This keeps the scenario tight and kinetic.

The minor roles are brilliantly covered by excellent actors, playing ethnic characters for the most part. Some are tiny, like the man who sells Hammer some popcorn ("a dime, like always") (John George), and some are meatier, like the Italian mover (Silvio Minciotti). This care and attention shows up clearly on the screen.

Other great moments:
  • Hammer takes a cigarette from Pat Murphy (Wesley Addy)'s pack and tries to pocket it. Murphy calmly recovers it.
  • At 0:17:36, Hammer cautiously enters his apartment. Composer Frank De Vol introduces a beautiful, simple two-note motif on the vibraphone, a major second. As Hammer explores, De Vol adds more texture, creating a stunning musical atmosphere.
  • At 0:19:10, as the telephone rings twice, we see a futuristic answering machine attached to the wall. Reel-to-reel tape is spinning at least 15 ips, as we hear a purring, seductive voice:
    • "This is Crestview 5-4124. Mr. Hammer, whom you are calling, is not available at present. If you wish to leave a record of your call, please state your message at the sound of the tone" (chime)
  • A brilliant three-minute scene shot in one long take (0:45:44 - 0:48:48) with Hammer and Eddie Yeager (Juano Hernandez, fantastic!) in a boxing gym.
  • Two other terrific scenes with "ethnic" characters: Harvey Wallace (a young Strother Martin), the truck driver and Carmen Trivago (Fortunio Bonanova), the would-be opera singer.
The film drives towards its fantastic, controversial ending in the best tradition of the best noirs, aided by outstanding editing, music and camera work.

Film Rating (0-60):

52

The Extras

The Booklet

Twenty-four page booklet featuring an informative and insightful essay by J. Hoberman, and a piece Aldrich himself wrote on February 20, 1955 for the New York Herald-Tribune, in response to all the controversy. Defensive by necessity, the article nevertheless sheds some light on all the brouhaha.

Commentary

by film noir specialists Alain Silver and James Ursini. These guys buzz their way through the film -- non-stop talking -- but it's all good and illuminating stuff. Lots of analysis and back story on the making of the movie.

Video tribute

by director Alex Cox ("Repo Man"). Reverential.

Documentary 1

The Long Haul of A. I. Bezzerides (2005). Writer's viewpoint.

Documentary 2

Mike Hammer's Mickey Spillane (1998). Spillane's viewpoint.

Documentary 3

about the film's locations. Very few of them still exist today -- so this extra is like a travelogue back to mid-50's L.A.

Controversial altered ending

Radical

Theatrical trailer

A big deduction for showing the ending in the trailer.

Extras Rating (0-40):

35

52 + 35 =

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