FILMS. 4th EDItION KINO-PRAVDA Waugh, Thomas, editor, "Show Us Life": Toward a History and trolley line, long out of service in torn-up streets, resumed running: Aesthetics of the Committed Documentary, Metuchen, New Jer- a tank levelling a field for an airport-to-be: homeless sey,1984. surviving in rubble, getting medical attention from a hospital; a hy- Petric, Vlad, Constructivism in Film: The Man with the Movie droelectric project under construction. Kino-Pravda occasionally Camera: A Cinematic Analysis. Cambridge, 1987. turned a camera on its own operations. One episode showed a filr Ellis, Jack C, The Documentary Idea, Englewood Cliffs, New worker arriving in a village, setting up a screen and projector, and Jersey, 1989 when a crowd gathered, showing them a Kino-Pravda reel Devaux, Frederique, Homme a la camera, de Dziga Vertov, Kino-Pravda was the work of a compact group. Its creator, Dziga Crisnee. 1990 Vertov (real name, Denis Kaufman)hailed from Bialystok in the Polish part of the Tsarist domain. With the outbreak of war in 1914 his Articles parents, both librarians, had taken their three young sons-Denis, Mikhail, Boris-to what must have seemed the comparative safety of Abramov, Nikolai, Dziga Vertov es a dokumentufilm muveszete, Russia. The two older sons, Denis and Mikhail, took up university in Filmkultura( Budapest), January 196 studies in St Petersburg. In 1917 both were caught up in the fever of The Writings of Dziga Vertov, in Film Culture(New York) the revolution, with Denis volunteering to the cinema committee; he Summer 1962 was soon editing agit-prop films despatched to fighting units as well Bordwell, David. "Dziga Vertov: An Introduction, in Film Com- as to towns and villages. He renamed himself Dziga vertov, names ment(New York), Spring 1972 suggesting a spinning top, perhaps symbolizing a revolving film reel, Feldman, Seth R, ""Cinema Weekly and Cinema Truth, "in Sight and or revolution itself. By 1921, as the fighting ended, he was a seasoned Sound (London), Winter 1973-74 film worker. He foresaw a crucial role for film in the coming soviet Mayne, Judith, Kino-Truth and Kino-Praxis: Vertov's Man with state and wrote manifestos to that effect. when his Kino-Pravda a Movie Camera, in Cine-Tracts(Montreal), Summer 1977 project won approval, he enlisted his brother Mikhail Kaufman, one Lebedev, A, in Iskusstvo Kino(Moscow ) October 1977. year his junior, as chief cameraman, joined by others as needed Dille, J,"Konstruktivizm'and'Kinematografiya', in Artforum, Vertov's wife, Yelizaveta Svilova, became Kino-Pravda,s editor vol.16,May1978. Boris, youngest of the Kaufman brothers, was sent to France to be educated. He eventually pursued a notable film career there, and later in Canada and the United States) The Kino-Pravda group began its work in a basement in the centre of Moscow. Vertov later described it as damp and dark with an The 21 May 1922 debut of the innovative newsreel Kino-Pravda earthen floor and holes one stumbled into at every turn. This came at a crucial time in Soviet history. The nature and reception of dampness prevented our reels of lovingly edited film from stickin Kino-Pravda are best understood against that background. In Aug together properly, rusted our scissors and our splicers. To get an of the previous year, Lenin, in a desperate move to spark an economy issue out in time, they often worked into the night. "Before dawn- prostrated by years of turmoil--revolution, civil war, occupation by damp, cold, teeth chattering-I wrap comrade Svilova in a third foreign troops-had decreed a New Economic Policy"i.e, a tem- porary invocation of private enterprise, including concessions to Vertov remained the guiding force. He outlined general strategy, foreign interests. with striking promptness theatres began showing then sent Mikhail and other cameramen in various directions. allow pre-war Russian films and imports from the major capitalist powers ing them wide latitude. They were to shoot what seemed important (e. g, Evil Shadows, Daughter of Tarzan, The Ciry's Temptation Staged action was taboo. They wished to catch life"unaware. They Even as their armies departed, their films flooded in, providing some never asked permission. They sometimes shot from concealed posi of the needed economic stimulus. But the young film worker Dziga tions. The epoch provided the themes. Mikhail would remember the Vertov described the deluge as"living corpses of movie dramas period with nostalgia. His camera was always with him. They worked garbed in splendid technological dressing. With the rhetorical flair hard but never thought of it as hard work. It was"like breathing or for which he would become noted, he protested: The body of cinema eating. "Once when Vertov ordered him to take a rest in the country, is numbed by the terrible poison of habit. We demand an opportunity he went reluctantly. It was beautiful, "but when I could not see it with to experiment with this dying organism, to find an antidote. " For him the help of my camera, it was not beauty for me. the antidote was"reality. His apparent contempt for fiction films Like the American film pioneer Robert Flaherty, a nized many in the russian film world, but his words won Vertov and Mikhail considered the camera a miraculous"machine support in high places. Lenin had recently declared that it hardly for seeing. 'The camera eye could help the human eye perceive mattered if people were drawn to theatres by nonsense films, provided things it could not otherwise see. To exploit this to the fullest, Kino- there was also a proportion dealing with world realities. The need for Pravda welcomed such devices as speeded and slowed action, and a Leninist film proportion(never clearly defined) became Soviet vistas from impossible angles. In one of his manifestos, Vertov lets doctrine and seemed to be implemented with the authorized launching the camera do the explaining: " I, a machine, show you a world such of Kino-Pravda, under the leadership of the 26-year-old Dziga Vertov. as only I can see. From now on and for always I cast off human For many Russian film-goers the monthly issues of Kino-Pravda immobility, I move constantly, I approach and move away from released during the next two years must often have seemed the only objects, I creep under them, I leap onto them. I move alongside the items touching their lives. They saw such events as: the day a moscow mouth of a galloping horse, I cut into a crowd, I turn on my back
FILMS, 4 KINO-PRAVDA th EDITION 639 Waugh, Thomas, editor, ‘‘Show Us Life’’: Toward a History and Aesthetics of the Committed Documentary, Metuchen, New Jersey, 1984. Petric, Vlad, Constructivism in Film: The Man with the Movie Camera: A Cinematic Analysis, Cambridge, 1987. Ellis, Jack C., The Documentary Idea, Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey, 1989. Devaux, Frédérique, Homme à la camera, de Dziga Vertov, Crisnée, 1990. Articles: Abramov, Nikolai, ‘‘Dziga Vertov es a dokumentufilm muveszete,’’ in Filmkultura (Budapest), January 1961. ‘‘The Writings of Dziga Vertov,’’ in Film Culture (New York), Summer 1962. Bordwell, David, ‘‘Dziga Vertov: An Introduction,’’ in Film Comment (New York), Spring 1972. Feldman, Seth R., ‘‘Cinema Weekly and Cinema Truth,’’ in Sight and Sound (London), Winter 1973–74. Mayne, Judith, ‘‘Kino-Truth and Kino-Praxis: Vertov’s Man with a Movie Camera,’’ in Ciné-Tracts (Montreal), Summer 1977. Lebedev, A., in Iskusstvo Kino (Moscow), October 1977. Dille, J., ‘‘’Konstruktivizm’ and ‘Kinematografiya’,’’ in Artforum, vol. 16, May 1978. *** The 21 May 1922 debut of the innovative newsreel Kino-Pravda came at a crucial time in Soviet history. The nature and reception of Kino-Pravda are best understood against that background. In August of the previous year, Lenin, in a desperate move to spark an economy prostrated by years of turmoil—revolution, civil war, occupation by foreign troops—had decreed a ‘‘New Economic Policy’’ i.e., a temporary invocation of private enterprise, including concessions to foreign interests. With striking promptness theatres began showing pre-war Russian films and imports from the major capitalist powers (e.g., Evil Shadows, Daughter of Tarzan, The City’s Temptation). Even as their armies departed, their films flooded in, providing some of the needed economic stimulus. But the young film worker Dziga Vertov described the deluge as ‘‘living corpses of movie dramas garbed in splendid technological dressing.’’ With the rhetorical flair for which he would become noted, he protested: ‘‘The body of cinema is numbed by the terrible poison of habit. We demand an opportunity to experiment with this dying organism, to find an antidote.’’ For him the antidote was ‘‘reality.’’ His apparent contempt for fiction films antagonized many in the Russian film world, but his words won support in high places. Lenin had recently declared that it hardly mattered if people were drawn to theatres by nonsense films, provided there was also a proportion dealing with world realities. The need for a ‘‘Leninist film proportion’’ (never clearly defined) became Soviet doctrine and seemed to be implemented with the authorized launching of Kino-Pravda, under the leadership of the 26-year-old Dziga Vertov. For many Russian film-goers the monthly issues of Kino-Pravda released during the next two years must often have seemed the only items touching their lives. They saw such events as: the day a Moscow trolley line, long out of service in torn-up streets, resumed running; a tank levelling a field for an airport-to-be; homeless children, surviving in rubble, getting medical attention from a hospital; a hydroelectric project under construction. Kino-Pravda occasionally turned a camera on its own operations. One episode showed a film worker arriving in a village, setting up a screen and projector, and, when a crowd gathered, showing them a Kino-Pravda reel. Kino-Pravda was the work of a compact group. Its creator, Dziga Vertov (real name, Denis Kaufman) hailed from Bialystok in the Polish part of the Tsarist domain. With the outbreak of war in 1914 his parents, both librarians, had taken their three young sons—Denis, Mikhail, Boris—to what must have seemed the comparative safety of Russia. The two older sons, Denis and Mikhail, took up university studies in St Petersburg. In 1917 both were caught up in the fever of the revolution, with Denis volunteering to the cinema committee; he was soon editing agit-prop films despatched to fighting units as well as to towns and villages. He renamed himself Dziga Vertov, names suggesting a spinning top, perhaps symbolizing a revolving film reel, or revolution itself. By 1921, as the fighting ended, he was a seasoned film worker. He foresaw a crucial role for film in the coming Soviet state and wrote manifestos to that effect. When his Kino-Pravda project won approval, he enlisted his brother Mikhail Kaufman, one year his junior, as chief cameraman, joined by others as needed. Vertov’s wife, Yelizaveta Svilova, became Kino-Pravda’s editor. (Boris, youngest of the Kaufman brothers, was sent to France to be educated. He eventually pursued a notable film career there, and later in Canada and the United States). The Kino-Pravda group began its work in a basement in the centre of Moscow. Vertov later described it as damp and dark with an earthen floor and holes one stumbled into at every turn. ‘‘This dampness prevented our reels of lovingly edited film from sticking together properly, rusted our scissors and our splicers.’’ To get an issue out in time, they often worked into the night. ‘‘Before dawn— damp, cold, teeth chattering—I wrap comrade Svilova in a third jacket.’’ Vertov remained the guiding force. He outlined general strategy, then sent Mikhail and other cameramen in various directions, allowing them wide latitude. They were to shoot what seemed important. Staged action was taboo. They wished to catch life ‘‘unaware.’’ They never asked permission. They sometimes shot from concealed positions. The epoch provided the themes. Mikhail would remember the period with nostalgia. His camera was always with him. They worked hard but never thought of it as hard work. It was ‘‘like breathing or eating.’’ Once when Vertov ordered him to take a rest in the country, he went reluctantly. It was beautiful, ‘‘but when I could not see it with the help of my camera, it was not beauty for me.’’ Like the American film pioneer Robert Flaherty, a contemporary, Vertov and Mikhail considered the camera a miraculous ‘‘machine for seeing.’’ The camera eye could help the human eye perceive things it could not otherwise see. To exploit this to the fullest, KinoPravda welcomed such devices as speeded and slowed action, and vistas from impossible angles. In one of his manifestos, Vertov lets the camera do the explaining: ‘‘I, a machine, show you a world such as only I can see. From now on and for always I cast off human immobility, I move constantly, I approach and move away from objects, I creep under them, I leap onto them, I move alongside the mouth of a galloping horse, I cut into a crowd, I turn on my back
KISS ME DEADLY FILMS. 4 EDITIoN take off with an airplane I fall and rise without falling and rising Combs, Richard, editor, Robert Aldrich, London, 1978 Kino-Pravda was consid- Silver, Alain, and Elizabeth Ward Robert Aldrich: A guide cred livelier than most newsreels. It dealt with""the prose of life, but References and Resources, Boston, 1979 processed with any device that would convey symbolic values. Thus Salizzato. Claver. Robert Aldrich. Florence. 1983 issue No. 24(1925), on the first anniversary of the death of Lenin Piton. Jean-Pierre. Robert Aldrich. Paris. 1985. we see people streaming past the dead leader in his coffin. Meanwhile Arnold, Edwin T, and Eugene L. Miller, The Films and Career of the living Lenin appears by superimposure in the corner of the screen Robert Aldrich. Knoxville. Tennessee. 1986 as though still speaking to them. Maheo. Michel. Robert Aldrich. Paris. 1987. he Kino-Pravda series had a considerable influence beyond its Silver, Alain, and James Ursini, What Ever Happened to Robert short life. Its footage and techniques were used in a number of Aldrich?: His Life and His Films, New York, 1995 subsequent feature-length documentaries by vertov and his associ- Bogdanovich, Peter, Who the Devil Made It: Conversations ates, notably in Shestaya Chast Mira(One Sixth of the World, 1926) Robert Aldrich, George Cukor, Allan Dwan, Howard He a widely admired film. Alfred Hitchcock, Chuck Jones, Fritz Lang, Joseph H. Kino-Pravda's magazine-like newsreel seems to have contributed Sidney Lumet, Leo Mccarey, Orto Preminger, Don Siegel, Josef to Times decision to create The March of Time. Even more signifi von Stemberg, frank Tashlin, Edgar G. Ulmer, Raoul Walsh cant was the inspiration Kino-Pravda gave to the cinema verite New York. 1997 movement of the 1960s, which took not only its name, but some of its basic ideas, from the Vertov newsreel Synchronized sight-and-sound Articles shooting had by then made possible, in a fuller sense than in Vertov's time, the Kino-Pravda aspiration of capturing life" on the run. Rivette, Jacques, On Revolution, in Cahiers du Cinema(Paris) 0.54,1955 -Erik Barnouw Hollywood Reporter, 20 April 1955 Variety(New York), 20 April 1955 Monthly Film Bulletin (London). August 1955 Fenin, George, interview with Aldrich, in Film Culture(New York) KISS ME CASANOVA July/August 1955 See marchen vom gluck Truffaut, Francois, interview with Aldrich, in Cahiers du Cinema (Paris), November 1956. Jarvie, lan, Hysteria and Authoritarianism in the Films of Robert Aldrich, in Film Culture(New York), Summer 1961 KISS ME DEADLY Cameron, lan, and Mark Shivas, ""Interview and Filmography ie(London), April 1963. USA,1955 Motion no. 3. 1962. Chabrol, Claude, in Cahiers du Cinema(Paris). December 1964- Director Robert Aldrich January 1965. Bertolucci, Bernardo, "Dialogue, 'in Action(Los Angeles ), March- Production: Parklane Pictures; black and white; running time: 98 April 1974. minutes, censored version 96 minutes; original length: 8,893 feet. Ringel, Harry, interview with Aldrich, in Sight and Sound (London), Release Silver, Alain, Kiss Me Deadly: Evidence of a Style, in Film Producer: Robert Aldrich; screenplay: A. I. Bezzerides, from the Comment(New York), March-April 1975 novel by Mickey Spillane: photography: Ernest Laszlo: editor: Legrand, Gerard, " Robert Aldrich et I incompletude du nihilism, ' in Mike Luciani: art director: William Glasgow: music: Frank Devol. Positif(Paris), June 1976 Sauvage, Pierre,"Aldrich Interview, in Movie (London), winter 1976 Cast: Ralph Meeker(Mike Hammer): Albert Dekker(Dr Soberin) Paul Stewart( Carl Eyello): Juano Hernandez (Eddie Eager): Wesley Dialogue on Film: Robert Aldrich, ' in American Film(washing ldy(Par): Marian Carr(Friday): Maxine Cooper (Velda): Cloris ton, D.C.), November 1978 Leachman( Christina): Nick Dennis(Nick). Combs, Richard, in Listener(London), 14 March 1985. Journal of Popular Film and Television(Washington, D.C. ) Sum- Wide Angle(Athens, Ohio), vol 8, no 3-4, 1986 Publications Cinema Journal( Champaign, Illinois), Spring 1988 Telotte. J. P.The Big Clock of Film Noir. in Film Criticism Books. (Meadville, Pennsylvania), no 2, 1990 Wood, R, " "Creativity and Evaluation, in Cineaction(Toronto), Micha. Rene. Robert Aldrich. Brussels. 1957 Summer-Fall 1990 Higham, Charles, The Celluloid Muse: Hollywood Directors Spea Telotte, J.P., "The Fantastic Realism of Film Noir: Kiss Me deadly New York, 196 Wide Angle(Baltimore), no 1, 1992
KISS ME DEADLY FILMS, 4th EDITION 640 I take off with an airplane, I fall and rise without falling and rising bodies.’’ Such words help to explain why Kino-Pravda was considered livelier than most newsreels. It dealt with ‘‘the prose of life,’’ but processed with any device that would convey symbolic values. Thus in issue No. 24 (1925), on the first anniversary of the death of Lenin, we see people streaming past the dead leader in his coffin. Meanwhile the living Lenin appears by superimposure in the corner of the screen as though still speaking to them. The Kino-Pravda series had a considerable influence beyond its short life. Its footage and techniques were used in a number of subsequent feature-length documentaries by Vertov and his associates, notably in Shestaya Chast Mira (One Sixth of the World, 1926), a widely admired film. Kino-Pravda’s magazine-like newsreel seems to have contributed to Time’s decision to create The March of Time. Even more signifi- cant was the inspiration Kino-Pravda gave to the cinema vérité movement of the 1960s, which took not only its name, but some of its basic ideas, from the Vertov newsreel. Synchronized sight-and-sound shooting had by then made possible, in a fuller sense than in Vertov’s time, the Kino-Pravda aspiration of capturing life ‘‘on the run.’’ —Erik Barnouw KISS ME CASANOVA See Märchen vom Glück KISS ME DEADLY USA, 1955 Director: Robert Aldrich Production: Parklane Pictures; black and white; running time: 98 minutes, censored version 96 minutes; original length: 8,893 feet. Released April 1955. Producer: Robert Aldrich; screenplay: A. I. Bezzerides, from the novel by Mickey Spillane; photography: Ernest Laszlo; editor: Mike Luciani; art director: William Glasgow; music: Frank Devol. Cast: Ralph Meeker (Mike Hammer); Albert Dekker (Dr. Soberin); Paul Stewart (Carl Eyello); Juano Hernandez (Eddie Eager); Wesley Addy (Pat); Marian Carr (Friday); Maxine Cooper (Velda); Cloris Leachman (Christina); Nick Dennis (Nick). Publications Books: Micha, Rene, Robert Aldrich, Brussels, 1957. Higham, Charles, The Celluloid Muse: Hollywood Directors Speak, New York, 1969. Combs, Richard, editor, Robert Aldrich, London, 1978. Silver, Alain, and Elizabeth Ward, Robert Aldrich: A Guide to References and Resources, Boston, 1979. Salizzato, Claver, Robert Aldrich, Florence, 1983. Piton, Jean-Pierre, Robert Aldrich, Paris, 1985. Arnold, Edwin T., and Eugene L. Miller, The Films and Career of Robert Aldrich, Knoxville, Tennessee, 1986. Maheo, Michel, Robert Aldrich, Paris, 1987. Silver, Alain, and James Ursini, What Ever Happened to Robert Aldrich?: His Life and His Films, New York, 1995. Bogdanovich, Peter, Who the Devil Made It: Conversations with Robert Aldrich, George Cukor, Allan Dwan, Howard Hawks, Alfred Hitchcock, Chuck Jones, Fritz Lang, Joseph H. Lewis, Sidney Lumet, Leo McCarey, Otto Preminger, Don Siegel, Josef von Sternberg, Frank Tashlin, Edgar G. Ulmer, Raoul Walsh, New York, 1997. Articles: Rivette, Jacques, ‘‘On Revolution,’’ in Cahiers du Cinéma (Paris), no. 54, 1955. Hollywood Reporter, 20 April 1955. Variety (New York), 20 April 1955. Monthly Film Bulletin (London), August 1955. Fenin, George, interview with Aldrich, in Film Culture (New York), July/August 1955. Truffaut, François, interview with Aldrich, in Cahiers du Cinéma (Paris), November 1956. Jarvie, Ian, ‘‘Hysteria and Authoritarianism in the Films of Robert Aldrich,’’ in Film Culture (New York), Summer 1961. Cameron, Ian, and Mark Shivas, ‘‘Interview and Filmography,’’ in Movie (London), April 1963. Motion, no. 3, 1962. Chabrol, Claude, in Cahiers du Cinéma (Paris), December 1964- January 1965. Bertolucci, Bernardo, ‘‘Dialogue,’’ in Action (Los Angeles), MarchApril 1974. Ringel, Harry, interview with Aldrich, in Sight and Sound (London), Summer 1974. Silver, Alain, ‘‘Kiss Me Deadly: Evidence of a Style,’’ in Film Comment (New York), March-April 1975. Legrand, Gérard, ‘‘Robert Aldrich et l’incompletude du nihilism,’’ in Positif (Paris), June 1976. Sauvage, Pierre, ‘‘Aldrich Interview,’’ in Movie (London), Winter 1976–77. ‘‘Dialogue on Film: Robert Aldrich,’’ in American Film (Washington, D.C.), November 1978. Combs, Richard, in Listener (London), 14 March 1985. Journal of Popular Film and Television (Washington, D.C.), Summer 1985. Wide Angle (Athens, Ohio), vol. 8, no. 3–4, 1986. Cinema Journal (Champaign, Illinois), Spring 1988. Telotte, J. P., ‘‘The Big Clock of Film Noir,’’ in Film Criticism (Meadville, Pennsylvania), no. 2, 1990. Wood, R., ‘‘Creativity and Evaluation,’’ in Cineaction (Toronto), Summer-Fall 1990. Telotte, J. P., ‘‘The Fantastic Realism of Film Noir: Kiss Me Deadly,’’ in Wide Angle (Baltimore), no. 1, 1992
FILMS. 4th EDItION KISS ME DEADLY ▲ Kiss Me Deadly Osteen, M, "The Big Secret: Film Noir and Nuclear Fear, in Romantic symphony is marked by Mahler's last few works in that Journal of Popular Film, vol 22, no 2, 1994 form, and the end of Hollywood silent cinema is marked by films lik Hill, Rodney F,"Rememberance, Communication, and Kiss Me Sunrise and Street Angel, so at the end of the film noir period come the Deadly, "in Literature/Film Quarterly( Salisbury ) voL. 22, no 2, two ultimate examples of the form, Touch of Evil and Kiss Me deadly April 1995. Kiss Me Deadly is also in many ways, the ultimate film of 1950s What's New with the Great Whatzit? ""in Video Watchdog(Cincin- in an attempt to turn a chance discovery into personal gain nat,no.40,1997 The films night-for-night opening sets the tone: A woman dressed Lucas, Tim, " Kiss Me Deadly in Video Watchdog( Cincinnati),no only in a coat appears out of the darkness on a lonely highway. She 42,1997 forces a car driven by mike Hammer to stop, and as they drive one is Riordan, P.M., ""Atomic Blonde, in Filmfax(Evanston), no. 63/64, aware of the loud drone of the engine and of the disorienting darkness, October/January 1997/1998 in which the disembodied lights of distant cars and the white lines of Thomson, David, Deadlily, in Film Comment(New York), vol. the road are virtually our only co-ordinates. What is established here 33. no 6. November-December 1997 is worked out in detail during the whole remainder of the film in soundtrack which uses a variety of noises of violent intensity and ness, and in imagery whic to undermine stability. The end of a particular sty listic period, in film as in the other arts. Hammer, happening on a plot involving the theft and attempted is often marked by a few masterpieces whose dizzying complexity sale of fissionable material, does not know these specifics until the seems to carry the style as far as it can be taken. Just as the end of the film s end. He guesses only that he has lucked on to"something big
FILMS, 4 KISS ME DEADLY th EDITION 641 Kiss Me Deadly Osteen, M., ‘‘The Big Secret: Film Noir and Nuclear Fear,’’ in Journal of Popular Film, vol. 22, no. 2, 1994. Hill, Rodney F., ‘‘Rememberance, Communication, and Kiss Me Deadly,’’ in Literature/Film Quarterly (Salisbury), vol. 22, no. 2, April 1995. Kohn, Olivier, and others, ‘‘Hommage à Robert Aldrich,’’ in Positif (Paris), no. 415, September 1995. ‘‘What’s New with the Great Whatzit?’’ in Video Watchdog (Cincinnati), no. 40, 1997. Lucas, Tim, ‘‘Kiss Me Deadly,’’ in Video Watchdog (Cincinnati), no. 42, 1997. Riordan, P.M., ‘‘Atomic Blonde,’’ in Filmfax (Evanston), no. 63/64, October/January 1997/1998. Thomson, David, ‘‘Deadlily,’’ in Film Comment (New York), vol. 33, no. 6, November-December 1997. *** The end of a particular stylistic period, in film as in the other arts, is often marked by a few masterpieces whose dizzying complexity seems to carry the style as far as it can be taken. Just as the end of the Romantic symphony is marked by Mahler’s last few works in that form, and the end of Hollywood silent cinema is marked by films like Sunrise and Street Angel, so at the end of the film noir period come the two ultimate examples of the form, Touch of Evil and Kiss Me Deadly. Kiss Me Deadly is also in many ways, the ultimate film of 1950s America, with its themes of speed, money, power, sex, and the atomic bomb intertwined in a tale of a detective who becomes an extortionist in an attempt to turn a chance discovery into personal gain. The film’s night-for-night opening sets the tone: A woman dressed only in a coat appears out of the darkness on a lonely highway. She forces a car driven by Mike Hammer to stop, and as they drive one is aware of the loud drone of the engine and of the disorienting darkness, in which the disembodied lights of distant cars and the white lines of the road are virtually our only co-ordinates. What is established here is worked out in detail during the whole remainder of the film, in a soundtrack which uses a variety of noises of violent intensity and intrusiveness, and in imagery which uses light/dark contrasts utterly to undermine stability. Hammer, happening on a plot involving the theft and attempted sale of fissionable material, does not know these specifics until the film’s end. He guesses only that he has lucked on to ‘‘something big,’’
KLUTE FILMS. 4 EDITIoN and that"a piece of something big has got to be something big. "He KLUTE follows his thread through a befuddling labyrinth of bizarre charac- ters, common in Spillane's detective fiction, which finds its visual equivalent in the film in a panoply of foreground objects, bizarre USA,1971 shifts of camera perspective, and highly disjunctive editing. The camera follows Hammer down a dark street; suddenly a brightly lit Director: Alan j. pakula ewsstand comes into the foreground, utterly transforming the space. We see a beachfront fight from eye-level, and then cut to an extreme Production: Warner Bros. Technicolor; Panavision; running time: high angle. In many compositions, oblique camera angles combine 114 minutes; length: 10. 240 feet. Released June 197 with cluttered foregrounds to produce oddly asymmetrical spaces. The effect of these devices is to place the viewer in a world utterly Producer: Alan J. Pakula; co-producer: David Lange; screenplay: different from that of Ford. or Walsh or Hawks. In their films Andy K. Lewis, Dave Lewis; assistant director: William Gerrity: paradigms of the classical Hollywood style, the consistency of the photography: Gordon Willis; editor: Carl Lemer; sound: Chris lationship between earth and sky, or between the bodies and body movements of the characters serves as a kind of fixed basis against Newman; art director: George Jenkins; music: Michael Small. which all deviations of movement, behavior, and image may be judged In Kiss Me Deadly, on the other hand, we are plunged from Cast: Jane Fonda(Bree Daniel); Donald Sutherland(John Klute); he opening images into a world utterly without ground, withou Charles Cioffi(Cable); Roy Scheider(Frank Ligourin); Dorothy stability, without predictability, in which the only constant is the Tristan (Arlyn Page): Rita Gam(Trina): Vivian Nathan(Psychia- trist): Nathan George(Lf. Trask); Morris Strassberg(Mr. Goldfarb); different one. Space, and the objects that fill it, are presented as Barry Snider(Berger); Anthony Holland(Actor's Agent); Richard physically malleable: there are no absolutes. The noir themes of Shull (Sugarman): Betty Murray(Holly Gruneman): Fred Burrell violence, paranoia, and despair, and the visual motifs that accompany them, are here carried to a visionary extreme that becomes a total world-view This is a realm in which there can be firm basis for moral dements, and if the film ultimately renders a negative judgment on Hammers self-serving quest, it does so more because of the actual ugly consequences than because of any fundamental belief In a universe without belief one lives for and celebrates the senses. Aldrich, and A I. Bezzerides in his brilliant script, present the ethos of 1950s America quite brilliantly. Nick, Hammers Greek auto mechanic, uses the phrase"Va-va-voom-pow!"to express his attraction to Hammer's fast cars and his interest in picking up couple of greek girls-and yet, in that phrase, the films whole plot finds epigrammatic expression. Fascinated with speed and sex, the men who pursue both often wind up endangered, injured, or dead Nick's"pow is not only the thrill of moving at maximum speed, and the thrill of orgasm, but also a forecast of the explosion that ends the im, itself only a hyperbolization of the film s earlier small explo- sions. The scripts mythological and biblical references contrast a modern world without values and a heroic past whose heroism is now rendered, in the fragments of fables we hear, as empty actions almost devoid of meaning. n one of the films many small brilliant touches, a boxing promoter sees Hammer and tries to get him to bet on his latest fighter Hammer suggests that the promoter will ultimately have the fighter throw his big fight, as he had in fact done in the past, because theres more gambling money to be made that way. The promoter replies, not this one. Later, near the films end, Hammer, drugged with truth serum, is tied to a bed and interrogated; he soon I outwit and murder his captors. During this section, we hear the sound of the big fight on the radio; at the end, the fighter who had been winning suddenly loses, presumably"throwing"it. This is more than simply another of the venal betrayals that dot the film; it is an example of the way that the films quest, for speed, sex, and power, must, since is a quest without moral basis, ultimately turn back on itself, annihilating all the seekers 642
KLUTE FILMS, 4th EDITION 642 and that ‘‘a piece of something big has got to be something big.’’ He follows his thread through a befuddling labyrinth of bizarre characters, common in Spillane’s detective fiction, which finds its visual equivalent in the film in a panoply of foreground objects, bizarre shifts of camera perspective, and highly disjunctive editing. The camera follows Hammer down a dark street; suddenly a brightly lit newsstand comes into the foreground, utterly transforming the space. We see a beachfront fight from eye-level, and then cut to an extreme high angle. In many compositions, oblique camera angles combine with cluttered foregrounds to produce oddly asymmetrical spaces. The effect of these devices is to place the viewer in a world utterly different from that of Ford, or Walsh or Hawks. In their films, paradigms of the classical Hollywood style, the consistency of the relationship between earth and sky, or between the bodies and bodymovements of the characters, serves as a kind of fixed basis against which all deviations of movement, behavior, and image may be judged. In Kiss Me Deadly, on the other hand, we are plunged from the opening images into a world utterly without ground, without stability, without predictability, in which the only constant is the ability of the image to suddenly transform itself into another, very different one. Space, and the objects that fill it, are presented as physically malleable; there are no absolutes. The noir themes of violence, paranoia, and despair, and the visual motifs that accompany them, are here carried to a visionary extreme that becomes a total world-view. This is a realm in which there can be firm basis for moral judgements, and if the film ultimately renders a negative judgment on Hammer’s self-serving quest, it does so more because of the actual ugly consequences than because of any fundamental belief. In a universe without belief, one lives for, and celebrates, the senses. Aldrich, and A. I. Bezzerides in his brilliant script, present the ethos of 1950s America quite brilliantly. Nick, Hammer’s Greek auto mechanic, uses the phrase ‘‘Va-va-voom—pow!’’ to express his attraction to Hammer’s fast cars and his interest in picking up ‘‘a couple of Greek girls’’—and yet, in that phrase, the film’s whole plot finds epigrammatic expression. Fascinated with speed and sex, the men who pursue both often wind up endangered, injured, or dead; Nick’s ‘‘pow’’ is not only the thrill of moving at maximum speed, and the thrill of orgasm, but also a forecast of the explosion that ends the film, itself only a hyperbolization of the film’s earlier small explosions. The script’s mythological and biblical references contrast a modern world without values and a heroic past whose heroism is now rendered, in the fragments of fables we hear, as empty actions almost devoid of meaning. In one of the film’s many small brilliant touches, a boxing promoter sees Hammer and tries to get him to bet on his latest fighter. Hammer suggests that the promoter will ultimately have the fighter throw his big fight, as he had in fact done in the past, because there’s more gambling money to be made that way. The promoter replies, ‘‘not this one.’’ Later, near the film’s end, Hammer, drugged with ‘‘truth serum,’’ is tied to a bed and interrogated; he soon manages to outwit and murder his captors. During this section, we hear the sound of the big fight on the radio; at the end, the fighter who had been winning suddenly loses, presumably ‘‘throwing’’ it. This is more than simply another of the venal betrayals that dot the film; it is an example of the way that the film’s quest, for speed, sex, and power, must, since it is a quest without moral basis, ultimately turn back on itself, annihilating all the seekers. —Fred Camper KLUTE USA, 1971 Director: Alan J. Pakula Production: Warner Bros.; Technicolor; Panavision; running time: 114 minutes; length: 10,240 feet. Released June 1971. Producer: Alan J. Pakula; co-producer: David Lange; screenplay: Andy K. Lewis, Dave Lewis; assistant director: William Gerritty; photography: Gordon Willis; editor: Carl Lerner; sound: Chris Newman; art director: George Jenkins; music: Michael Small. Cast: Jane Fonda (Bree Daniel); Donald Sutherland (John Klute); Charles Cioffi (Cable); Roy Scheider (Frank Ligourin); Dorothy Tristan (Arlyn Page); Rita Gam (Trina); Vivian Nathan (Psychiatrist); Nathan George (Lt. Trask); Morris Strassberg (Mr. Goldfarb); Barry Snider (Berger); Anthony Holland (Actor’s Agent); Richard Shull (Sugarman); Betty Murray (Holly Gruneman); Fred Burrell Klute
FILMS. 4th EDItION KLUTE (Man in Hotel); Jean Stapleton( Goldfarb's Secretary); Robert Milli critics who regarded it as a psychologically realistic portrait of (Tom Gruneman); Jane White (Janie Dale): Shirley Stoler(Momma a womans inner conflict, later feminists have discussed it in political Reese); Mary Louise Wilson(Producer in Ad Agency); Marc Malvin terms, finding a subtext which endorses patriarchy (Assistant Producer in Ad Agency): Jan Fielding (Psychiatrist's In an interview in Positif Alan Pakula stated that he regarded the Secretary); Antonia Ray (Mrs. Vasek); Robert Ronan(Director in film as similar to a 1940s thriller, a genre that he could use for his own Little Theatre); Richard Ramos(Assistant Director in Little Theatre). purposes. In fact, Klute possesses several film noir characteristics. both in style and content, but Pakula shifts the psychological focus Award: Oscar for Best Actress(Fonda), 1971 from Klute. the detective. to Bree. the intended victim. Klute's attempts to discover the identity of the killer pale in comparison to Bree's efforts at self-discovery, which are aided by a female psycho- Publications therapist. Thus the film is generically both film noir thriller and a psychological thriller, and the audience identifies with Bree, a de- veloping character whose inner conflict torments her, not with Klute, the static and reticent male Kiernan, Thomas, Jane: An Intimate Biography of Jane Fonda, New Bree wants to leave"the life, which ironically gives her control York, 1977 d independence, for modeling, but the audition with its"'lineup Kaplan, E. Ann, editor, Women in Film Noir, London, 1978 and depersonalization, seems to offer only a different"life. When Jeien. Thomas Jane Fonda: Ihre Filme. ihr Leben. Munich. 1981 Klute, the small-town friend of a murder victim, pursues the identity Erlanger, Ellen, Jane Fonda, Minneapolis, 1981 of the murderer, he seems to offer her another option, love and its Haddad, G. G, The Films of Jane Fonda, Secaucus, New Jet accompanying dependence; for he comes to love and protect her Ironically, his love and protection further endanger her, and as she Guiles, Fred, Jane Fonda: The Actress in Her Time, New York, 1982 relinquishes control to Klute, she nearly loses her life. Like Cable, the Cole, Gerald, and Wes Farrell, The Fondas, London, 1984 murderer, Klute poses a real threat, though it is more psychological obbiano, Giovanni. Alan Pakula. Firenze. 1985 than physical. At one point Bree attacks Klute with scissors and twice French, Sean, Jane Fonda: A Biography, London, 1998 flees from him to her ex-pimp, only to find that prostitution itself and, eventually, death. Just as Klute repre Articles. an appeal to dependency and loss of control, Cable, the murderer, represents control in the form of detachment. Neither Bree nor Cable Variety(New York). 30 June 1971 is emotionally involved in sex, which becomes an act by which each Milne, Tom, in Sight London), Autumn 1971 wields power, and both wish to be emotionally numb. Even thei Sirkin. elliot in film (Berkeley), Fall 1971 voices, as rendered on the tape recorder, seem similar. Although the Houston,Penelope, in Monthly Film Bulletin(London), Novem- stereotypical roles of detective and criminal are antithetical, Klute and Cable actually have a great deal in common, thereby reinforcing Rignall, John, in Monogram(London), No 4, 1972. the image of Klute as a threat to Bree. After the tape recorder is played Legrand, Gerard, in Positif(Paris), March 1972. in rural Pennsylvania, Klute appears in New York; and both men use Eyles, Allen, ""Donald Sutherland, " "in Films in Review(New York), similar methods, though for different purposes utumn 1973 Just as Klute and Cable can be viewed as dramatic projections of Cineaste(New York), vol. 11, no. 2, 1981. the forces within Brees mind, her apartment may also represent Lovell,Terry, and Simon Frith,"How Do You Get Pleasure? herself. She is spied on in her ap tly and Another Look at Klute, in Screen Education(London), Sum- brutally penetrated by Cable; Bree's semen-soaked underpants sug mer 1981 gest that Cable, too, sees his action as rape. When she leaves her Kornatowska,M,""Eros i cywilizacja, 'in Kino(Warsaw), apartment and sleeps with Klute, she also leaves her""selfand August 1985. becomes dependent on him. At the end of the film she and Klute leave Caputo, R,"Film Noir: 'You Sure You Don't See What Yo her apartment, which is empty, except for the ringing telephone, her Hear?. in Continuum. vol 5. no. 2. 1992. link with the"johns"and her therapist. Her furnishings, that which Atkinson,M,"Jane Fonda in Klute, 'in Movieline(Escondido), vol. made the apartment""hers, are gone; and she may be empty of her 6, April 1995 past, ready to acquire Klute's furnishings, his values, his life, his Jonsson mats "Parallax Paranoia: On alan j. pakulas amerikanska identit trilogi, in Filmhaftet(Stockholm), voL 27, no 105, 1999 Though Cable's death and Bree's decision to leave dark, claustro- phobic New York for the sunlight of rural Pennsylvania imply that she has opted for love and dependence, Pakula does create some ambiguity. She has told her analyst that she will probably be back next Jane Fonda's Academy Award-winning performance as Bree week for an appointment, but that verbal message does not carry the Daniels, a New York prostitute with modeling aspirations, was her weight that the visual one does: standing in the empty apartment, she test in a series of roles that paralleled the course of American is wearing the same clothes she wore at the beginning of the film.Bree ociety. After initially appearing as a cheerleader in Tall Story, Fonda may have chosen love and dependency for the present, through the had become increasingly political, prompting the ire of American efforts of the female therapist who has encouraged that choice, but the conservatives by appearing in Tout va bien, made by Jean-Luc choice is not without personal cost ho in a le liberalism of Klute. Though Klute did appeal to some early feminist Thomas L. erskine
FILMS, 4 KLUTE th EDITION 643 (Man in Hotel); Jean Stapleton (Goldfarb’s Secretary); Robert Milli (Tom Gruneman); Jane White (Janie Dale); Shirley Stoler (Momma Reese); Mary Louise Wilson (Producer in Ad Agency); Marc Malvin (Assistant Producer in Ad Agency); Jan Fielding (Psychiatrist’s Secretary); Antonia Ray (Mrs. Vasek); Robert Ronan (Director in Little Theatre); Richard Ramos (Assistant Director in Little Theatre). Award: Oscar for Best Actress (Fonda), 1971. Publications Books: Kiernan, Thomas, Jane: An Intimate Biography of Jane Fonda, New York, 1977. Kaplan, E. Ann, editor, Women in Film Noir, London, 1978. Jeien, Thomas, Jane Fonda: Ihre Filme, ihr Leben, Munich, 1981. Erlanger, Ellen, Jane Fonda, Minneapolis, 1981. Haddad, G. G., The Films of Jane Fonda, Secaucus, New Jersey, 1981. Guiles, Fred, Jane Fonda: The Actress in Her Time, New York, 1982. Cole, Gerald, and Wes Farrell, The Fondas, London, 1984. Robbiano, Giovanni, Alan Pakula, Firenze, 1985. French, Sean, Jane Fonda: A Biography, London, 1998. Articles: Variety (New York), 30 June 1971. Milne, Tom, in Sight and Sound (London), Autumn 1971. Sirkin, Elliot, in Film Quarterly (Berkeley), Fall 1971. Houston, Penelope, in Monthly Film Bulletin (London), November 1971. Rignall, John, in Monogram (London), No. 4, 1972. Legrand, Gérard, in Positif (Paris), March 1972. Eyles, Allen, ‘‘Donald Sutherland,’’ in Films in Review (New York), Autumn 1973. Cineaste (New York), vol. 11, no. 2, 1981. Lovell, Terry, and Simon Frith, ‘‘How Do You Get Pleasure? Another Look at Klute,’’ in Screen Education (London), Summer 1981. Kornatowska, M., ‘‘Eros i cywilizacja,’’ in Kino (Warsaw), August 1985. Caputo, R., ‘‘Film Noir: ‘You Sure You Don’t See What You Hear?,’’’ in Continuum, vol. 5, no. 2, 1992. Atkinson, M., ‘‘Jane Fonda in Klute,’’ in Movieline (Escondido), vol. 6, April 1995. Jönsson, Mats, ‘‘Parallax Paranoia: On Alan J. Pakulas amerikanska trilogi,’’ in Filmhäftet (Stockholm), vol. 27, no. 105, 1999. *** Jane Fonda’s Academy Award-winning performance as Bree Daniels, a New York prostitute with modeling aspirations, was her latest in a series of roles that paralleled the course of American society. After initially appearing as a cheerleader in Tall Story, Fonda had become increasingly political, prompting the ire of American conservatives by appearing in Tout va bien, made by Jean-Luc Godard, who in A Letter to Jane attacked her for the Hollywood liberalism of Klute. Though Klute did appeal to some early feminist critics who regarded it as a psychologically realistic portrait of a woman’s inner conflict, later feminists have discussed it in political terms, finding a subtext which endorses patriarchy. In an interview in Positif Alan Pakula stated that he regarded the film as similar to a 1940s thriller, a genre that he could use for his own purposes. In fact, Klute possesses several film noir characteristics, both in style and content, but Pakula shifts the psychological focus from Klute, the detective, to Bree, the intended victim. Klute’s attempts to discover the identity of the killer pale in comparison to Bree’s efforts at self-discovery, which are aided by a female psychotherapist. Thus the film is generically both film noir thriller and a psychological thriller, and the audience identifies with Bree, a developing character whose inner conflict torments her, not with Klute, the static and reticent male. Bree wants to leave ‘‘the life,’’ which ironically gives her control and independence, for modeling, but the audition with its ‘‘lineup’’ and depersonalization, seems to offer only a different ‘‘life.’’ When Klute, the small-town friend of a murder victim, pursues the identity of the murderer, he seems to offer her another option, love and its accompanying dependence; for he comes to love and protect her. Ironically, his love and protection further endanger her, and as she relinquishes control to Klute, she nearly loses her life. Like Cable, the murderer, Klute poses a real threat, though it is more psychological than physical. At one point Bree attacks Klute with scissors and twice flees from him to her ex-pimp, only to find that prostitution itself involves dependency and, eventually, death. Just as Klute represents an appeal to dependency and loss of control, Cable, the murderer, represents control in the form of detachment. Neither Bree nor Cable is emotionally involved in sex, which becomes an act by which each wields power, and both wish to be emotionally numb. Even their voices, as rendered on the tape recorder, seem similar. Although the stereotypical roles of detective and criminal are antithetical, Klute and Cable actually have a great deal in common, thereby reinforcing the image of Klute as a threat to Bree. After the tape recorder is played in rural Pennsylvania, Klute appears in New York; and both men use similar methods, though for different purposes. Just as Klute and Cable can be viewed as dramatic projections of the forces within Bree’s mind, her apartment may also represent herself. She is spied on in her apartment, which is subsequently and brutally penetrated by Cable; Bree’s semen-soaked underpants suggest that Cable, too, sees his action as rape. When she leaves her apartment and sleeps with Klute, she also leaves her ‘‘self’’ and becomes dependent on him. At the end of the film she and Klute leave her apartment, which is empty, except for the ringing telephone, her link with the ‘‘johns’’ and her therapist. Her furnishings, that which made the apartment ‘‘hers,’’ are gone; and she may be empty of her past, ready to acquire Klute’s furnishings, his values, his life, his identity. Though Cable’s death and Bree’s decision to leave dark, claustrophobic New York for the sunlight of rural Pennsylvania imply that she has opted for love and dependence, Pakula does create some ambiguity. She has told her analyst that she will probably be back next week for an appointment, but that verbal message does not carry the weight that the visual one does: standing in the empty apartment, she is wearing the same clothes she wore at the beginning of the film. Bree may have chosen love and dependency for the present, through the efforts of the female therapist who has encouraged that choice, but the choice is not without personal cost. —Thomas L. Erskine