Fans of Quentin Tarantino and his iconic crime thriller Pulp Fiction may remember the cryptic glowing briefcase with the lock that is opened by the number 666 which is held by John Travolta and Samuel L. Jackson. This mysterious plot device was borrowed from one of the last great film noir pictures from that genre’s classical era, 1955’s Kiss Me Deadly. Similarly, this gimmick was also used (but this time in the trunk of an automobile) in the Alex Cox 1984 cult classic Repo Man, starring Harry Dean Stanton and Emilio Estevez.
Directed by Robert Aldrich, Kiss Me Deadly follows private eye Mike Hammer (Ralph Meeker) through the seedy side-streets of Los Angeles as he is dragged into a bizarre case by a young woman, Christina Bailey (Cloris Leachman – in her first film role), who stops him while driving on a highway late one night. He offers the lady, who is clothed solely in a trench-coat, a ride. As the two talk, the rattled dame asks the detective to ‘remember her’ if she does not survive. Shortly after stopping at a service station, the two are captured, she is tortured, and then they are pushed off a cliff in his car to make it look like an accident.
Only Hammer survives, and once he recovers he is determined to follow the loose thread of clues to solve the mystery of that night, despite the cops advising him against it. This leads him on a bizarre journey where he meets a plethora of odd characters, including Christina’s spooked former roommate and two thugs who look a bit like Steve Buscemi and John Malkovich. Hammer must confront danger, death and questioning until he finally retrieves a key that opens a locker which holds a mysterious box that is hot to the touch, lets off otherworldly sounds and emits a blinding glow when it is opened just a crack. It is this item that Hammer, the government, and the mobsters are all after. It is the great MacGuffin, a plot device in which a protagonist searches for a desired object with very little information as to why it is so important. What happens in the end and what is in the box I will not tell, but I will say that there are different interpretations as to what is held within the mysterious case. Some say this item gives the movie a feeling of surrealism or a post-apocalyptic touch, though I do not really concur with those opinions.
There are many things that must be said about this picture. Though it was filmed in 1955, it was very edgy for the time. As I mentioned before, Christina is tortured early on, and though we only see her legs and hear her screams in the film, it is still a very avant-garde moment. Also, the protagonist, Mike Hammer, is less than an honourable man. He is known as a ‘bedroom dic’, a detective who makes his money by catching married couples in acts of infidelity (he puts both his secretary Velda [Maxine Cooper] and himself in immoral positions to capture these people). He is also very much a sadist, a man who both loves and is good at violence and torture; an example of this being the smirk that appears on his face as he slams a desk drawer on a man’s hand as he is looking for some answers. His methods of persuasion are quite something and Meeker plays this vicious protagonist extremely well. Hammer’s mechanic Nick must also be highlighted. The likeable immigrant is funny and great to watch. His exuberance and guttural sound effects and catch phrase “va-va-voom” make him a memorable secondary character.
All film noir offerings from the classical period had amazing style, and this one is no exception. Aldrich and his team put together a beautiful movie with many visually stunning moments. There are some very original, unusual, and off kilter shots used when Hammer visits the building in which Christina lived as well as the new location her former roommate resides – especially when dealing with staircases. Chiaroscuro, which is a film noir term that simply means the use of light and shade, is used beautifully in this black and white picture, especially when the mysterious box is on screen, such as in the final scene. Aldrich’s direction of the head villain, in which he only films the man’s shoes and pants until the final scene, is very unique.
Unlike other movies from this genre, Kiss Me Deadly uses more than one femme fatale. It seems like none of the beautiful woman in this flick can be trusted. Finally, the dialogue (written by A.I. Bezzerides based on the book by Mickey Spillane) will remind us of other noir films from that era; clever and corny composition that can be delightful if one is in the right mood. When you put all of these elements together, you have the classic film Kiss Me Deadly. It will blow you away!
Kiss Me Deadly: 8.4
Part of the Criterion Collection