Kiss Me Deadly (1955)

 

KISS ME DEADLY (1955) ****

Sometimes, it seems that like no author ever liked any film adaptation of their work. It feels that way every time I read up on a film based on a novel.

For example, British novelist Roald Dahl (1916-90) hated WILLY WONKA & THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY, though he’s credited for writing the screenplay. David Seltzer rewrote Dahl’s original script and the original author hated the changes like a different ending and the addition of musical numbers. The choice of Gene Wilder to play Willy Wonka also did not jibe with Dahl.

Stephen King famously hates Stanley Kubrick’s adaptation of THE SHINING. “I have a real problem with THE SHINING and Stanley Kubrick knew that I had a real problem with THE SHINING. I had a discussion with him beforehand. He said, ‘Stephen, Stanley Kubrick here, don’t you agree that all stories of ghosts are fundamentally optimistic?’ I said, ‘What do you mean?’ and he said ‘Well if there are ghosts it means we survive death and that’s fundamentally an optimistic view, isn’t it?’ I said, ‘Mr. Kubrick, what about Hell?’ and there’s a long pause on the telephone line and then he said in a very stiff and a very different voice, ‘I don’t believe in Hell.’ I said to myself, ‘Well, that’s fine, but some of us do and some of us believe that ghosts may survive and that may be Hell.’” King called THE SHINING “a cold film” with “striking images” and compared it to a “beautiful car that had no engine.”

Now, we get to the classic 1955 apocalyptic film noir KISS ME DEADLY directed by Robert Aldrich (1918-83) and written by screenwriter A.I. Bezzerides (1908-2007) and an uncredited Aldrich from Mickey Spillane’s 1952 novel.

Spillane (1918-2006), of course, did not find the film adaptation of his novel to be “classic.” Apparently, Bezzerides felt the same about the source material.

“I was given the Spillane book and I said, ‘This is lousy. Let me see what I can do.’ So I went to work on it. I wrote it fast because I had contempt for it. … I tell you Spillane didn’t like what I did with his book. I ran into him at a restaurant and, boy, he didn’t like me.”

Why not?

Bezzerides added espionage and the infamous nuclear suitcase (“The great whatsit”), plot details not in Spillane’s novel. On top of that, Bezzerides made detective protagonist Mike Hammer a narcissistic bully of a very high degree of creep. Hammer, played by Ralph Meeker, pushes anti-hero to its most extreme limits. For whatever reason, Nazareth’s “Hair of the Dog” comes to mind, mainly that “Now you’re messin’ with a son of a bitch” chorus.

The appropriately named Hammer makes his living (predominantly) by blackmailing adulterous husbands and wives and he’s appropriately named Hammer because he’s always dropping the hammer on somebody in his way. Assorted thugs and sordid contacts, of course, but also a coroner not wanting to part with a key and a clerk not wanting to cooperate because Hammer’s not a member. Hammer’s friends and associates also pay dearly for their association with the detective.

I love Bezzerides’ dialogue.

One thug waxes poetic, “Dames are worse than flies.”

That’s as great as “I don’t pray. Kneeling bags my nylons” from Billy Wilder’s ACE IN THE HOLE and Harry Lime’s “cuckoo clock” speech from Carol Reed’s THE THIRD MAN.

KISS ME DEADLY prepares us for what lies ahead from its very first scene and then its opening credits, both stating that it will be a film like none other. What’s that old Cole Porter song? Yes, “Anything Goes.”

First scene: A frightened young woman. Dressed only in a trench coat, and she’s also in her bare feet. She’s flagging a ride as the motor cars zip past on a highway. She’s desperate, so desperate that she finally places herself in front of the path of one of the zipping cars. That car just happens to be driven by none other than Hammer. His first line, “You almost wrecked my car! Well? Get in!”

Opening credits: They scroll backwards. All the while, we hear the cries of the frightened young woman (Cloris Leachman).

Christina Bailey, the frightened young woman, tells Hammer, “Get me to that bus stop and forget you ever saw me. If we don’t make it to the bus stop. … If we don’t, remember me.” Needless to say, Miss Bailey does not make it to the bus stop and Hammer (and by extension, we) go down the proverbial rabbit hole. All roads lead to the atomic suitcase and one helluva explosive finale.

Every film noir seems to have at least one femme fatale and KISS ME DEADLY gives us Lily Carver (Gaby Rodgers), who’s compared to Pandora and Lot by one character she guns down late in the picture. She then greets Hammer, “Kiss me, Mike. I want you to kiss me. Kiss me. The liar’s kiss that says I love you, and means something else.” She unloads on Hammer, too.

Yes, she’s arguably the most fatal of any femme.

From her profile on “The Female Villains Wiki,” “Lily often has the manner of a slightly flaky adolescent, which doesn’t seem to be all assumed for the deceptive role she’s playing in the early scenes. When her true identity and character are later revealed, it’s clear she’s one of the most black hearted, deadly female villains ever put on screen. … She kills people easily, with no ethical concerns whatever evident. She smirks after she’s done it. In the last scene in which she appears, we see she’s more than just a greedy, callous killer, very pleased with herself, she’s also a sadist.”

Lily meets her maker in one of the great cinematic deaths. There’s a shot during the apocalyptic ending in RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK that’s a dead ringer for one in KISS ME DEADLY. Gotta love that Spielberg.

In the alternate ending, the one that was seen for many years, even Hammer goes down in flames. Nihilism and its variants have been used to describe KISS ME DEADLY many times, 639,000 in fact according to Google.

Aldrich later directed WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO BABY JANE?, THE DIRTY DOZEN, and THE LONGEST YARD, but he already outdid himself with KISS ME DEADLY.

All we need to know is that the Kefauver Commission named KISS ME DEADLY as 1955’s No. 1 menace to American youth. That would have included an 8-year-old Steven Spielberg and look how he turned out.

Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory (1971)

WILLY WONKA

WILLY WONKA & THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY (1971) Three-and-a-half stars

Over the years, many individual performers have walked away with a movie and made it their own. For example, Gene Wilder in WILLY WONKA & THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY.

Wilder provides one of the great movie entrances at about the 45-minute mark of the picture and it’s about darn time because it’s a bit of a slog before we reach the chocolate factory. Our expectations are very high by this point in the picture and Wilder’s Willy Wonka meets and even surpasses them. It was Wilder himself who insisted that he make such an entrance.

“When I make my first entrance, I’d like to come out of the door carrying a cane and then walk toward the crowd with a limp,” Wilder said. “After the crowd sees Willy Wonka is a cripple, they all whisper to themselves and then become deathly quiet. As I walk toward them, my cane sinks into one of the cobblestones I’m walking on and stands straight up, by itself; but I keep on walking, until I realize that I no longer have my cane. I start to fall forward, and just before I hit the ground, I do a beautiful forward somersault and bounce back up, to great applause.”

This entrance establishes Wonka’s unpredictability right from the start.

Wilder magnificently expresses all the sides of Willy Wonka’s personality. It turns on a dime from joy and wonder to malevolent anger at the selfish children who found their golden ticket in a Wonka bar. Their golden tickets earned the children a pass to Wonka’s factory. The five children are Augustus Gloop, Veruca Salt, Violet Beauregarde, Mike Teavee, and Charlie Bucket and they are each joined by one parent or grandparent in the case of final ticket winner Charlie Bucket. The bad children are punished in unspeakable, horrifying ways for their indiscretions. That’ll show ‘em and serves ‘em right, greedy little bastards.

When the beloved Wilder died in 2016 at the age of 83, I thought immediately of his performance as Willy Wonka and his spotlight song “Pure Imagination,” a number written by the British duo of Leslie Bricusse and Anthony Newley. “If you want to view paradise / Simply look around and view it / Anything you want to do it / Wanna change the world / There’s nothing to it / There is no life I know / To compare with pure imagination / Living there you’ll be free / If you truly wish to be.” At its very, very best, WILLY WONKA approaches THE WIZARD OF OZ and Wilder’s on par with Margaret Hamilton and Frank Morgan and gang. They all share a certain joy of performance that’s wonderful to behold.

Like THE WIZARD OF OZ, WILLY WONKA undoubtedly introduced multitudes of children to scary movies. The Haunted Forest, the Wicked Witch of the West, flying monkeys, et cetera, in the 1939 film and the Oompa-Loompas and the boat ride in WILLY WONKA.

“Charlie and the Chocolate Factory” author Roald Dahl (1916-90) absolutely hated the 1971 screen adaptation. Dahl received credit for writing the screenplay, but it was the uncredited David Seltzer who came in and made script changes that raised Dahl’s ire.

What did Mr. Dahl hate about the picture? The shift in focus from Charlie to Willy Wonka. Check. The musical numbers. Check. Casting Gene Wilder rather than Spike Milligan, Dahl’s stated preference. Check. Guess the question should be changed to what didn’t Mr. Dahl hate about WILLY WONKA. This whole situation reminds one that Stephen King hates Stanley Kubrick’s THE SHINING.

I saw WILLY WONKA for the first time in fifth grade (1990) and read Dahl’s novel the next school year. I loved Dahl’s novel, but I have not read it since completing it during sixth grade, roughly the same age as the precocious golden ticket winners. Meanwhile, I have seen the 1971 version several times since that first encounter nearly three decades ago, on cable TV (Teavee), VHS, and DVD. I do think of the film more often than I do the book, and I believe that it has almost everything to do with the Wilder performance.

I have skipped Tim Burton’s 2005 adaptation CHARLIE & THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY & I just remember being appalled from the start by still photographs of Johnny Depp’s take on Willy Wonka. Remember that scene in ANIMAL HOUSE when the older members of Delta Tau Chi pelt that picture of pledge Flounder with beer cans? That’s about how I feel every time I see a picture of Depp as Wonka. (Generally speaking, I have no problem with Burton and Depp movies. I love ED WOOD and like SLEEPY HOLLOW and SWEENEY TODD a lot.)

In a 2013 interview with Turner Classic Movies host Robert Osborne (1932-2017), Wilder shared his true feelings on the 2005 version.

“I think it’s an insult,” he said. “Johnny Depp, I think, is a good actor, but I don’t care for that director [Tim Burton]. He’s a talented man, but I don’t care for him doing stuff like he did.”