The Naked Kiss

The Naked Kiss opens with a shocking pre-credit sequence, shot partly with cameras harnessed to the actors, in which we see a furious woman beating a man with her handbag. He grabs at her and her wig comes off, revealing that she is totally bald - a prostitute who has been shaved in punishment by the pimp she is now assaulting. Kelly (Constance Towers), the hooker eventually makes her way to Grantville, a small town in New England and after a brief liaison with a law enforcement officer, abandons her bad ways and becomes a nurse in a children's hospital. In due course she becomes engaged to Grant (Michael Dante) a rich and handsome Korean War veteran. Grant, however, has a dark secret of his own... Sam Fuller started his career in newspapers, wrote some pulp novels and screenplays, and then wandered the United States as a tramp on freight trains during the Depression before serving with distinction in the US Army. Starting with I Shot Jesse James (1949) he directed a series of sometimes-controversial films that established him as a cult auteur, especially in Europe. His critical stock remains high today, for instance amongst such modern filmmakers as Quentin Tarantino and Tim Robbins. Perhaps Fuller's quote that "Film is a battleground. Love, hate, violence, action, death... in a word, emotion" is the most famous statement of his creative philosophy. Certainly the assaults come thick and fast in The Naked Kiss, either during the opening scene (where the camera angles suggest that blows are struck directly against the audience's point of view), or the two other attacks by an out of control Kelly on Candy (Virginia Grey) the Madame, or Grant respectively. Finally of course there is the 'battleground' of the legal process in which the heroine finds herself entangled.

The present film was the second of two notorious titles that Fuller made, one after the other in the early 1960s, the other being Shock Corridor. They polarised critics between those who found the results shallow and sensational and those others who discovered in Fuller's increasing disillusionment about American society a welcome, and brave aesthetic. There's no denying Fuller's in-your-face tabloid style has its rough edge, but this is part and parcel of the director's way of 'cinema as scoop' where his films were amongst the first to cover the pressing issues of the day. For instance, Steel Helmet (1950) early on brought the Korean War to the screen. The Naked Kiss goes the whole hog in sensationalism and manages to include abortion, prostitution, police corruption as well as paedophilia, often with the urgency of an on-the-spot report. At the centre of it all is Kelly, the poetry-loving prostitute who, despite her past, is both intelligent and sensitive. "Intellect rarely goes with physical beauty" the self centred Grant smugly actually tells her, "and that makes you a remarkable woman." For Kelly leaving her earlier profession is a matter of self-esteem just as much as it is social duty. When Buff (Marie Devereux) tries to follow her bad example she is forcibly reminded that prostitution is "a social problem, a medical problem, a mental problem" and that she will end up "a despicable failure as a woman."

At times The Naked Kiss plays out like a garish Sirkian drama. Small town America, as displayed in Grantville, is just as full of hypocrisy and repression as anything found in Imitation Of Life (1959) or All That Heaven Allows (1955). The difference here is that the emotions are worn on the sleeve; the ironic reassurance of the German's widescreen colour is replaced by stark journalisms in black and white. Fuller's town is a personal one, where Shock Corridor is on the local cinema's marquee, and where Fuller's own paperback novel The Dark Page is being read by the heroine. This is a feminist noir with a controversial edge. If the result is the occasional miscalculation (such as the sugary song sung by Kelly and the children) then the overall effect can be judged a success. The film's title itself refers to the way one can, ostensibly at least, identify a pervert - by the nature of his or her intimate contact. The Naked Kiss, itself a title reminiscent of some garish dime fiction, is full of such distorted intimacies, much of which ends disappointingly or with violence. Of course 'naked' in one sense is also the way we first see Kelly, bald headed and frenziedly beating her pimp. As critics have observed, there's a characteristic contradiction in many of Fuller's films that antisocial characters perform the most necessary social actions. In Pickup On South Street (1953) for instance, it is the sociopath Skip McCoy who helps bring the communists to book. Here, although some still see the newly reformed Kelly as reprehensible - notably her first, and only, paying customer in Grantville, Captain Griff (Anthony Eisley) - it is she who provides the catalyst for the eventual exposure of Grant's perversions. Although still ostracised at the end of the film, she has performed a valuable, if uncomfortable, service to the community - her lack of sentimentality neatly sidestepping many of the 'whore with the heart of gold' clichés, which the director so despised. Fuller had an almost mystical faith in America's destiny, but sensationally recorded its sins and failings with increased pessimism as his career proceeded. The choice of Kelly as the vehicle for reform in The Naked Kiss is typical of his later films. In fact the present title was something of a watershed for the director. He next made the financially unsuccessful, and far more conventional, Shark! (aka: Maneater, 1969), before he eventually found his feet again in the American cinema in the 1980s.

Naked Kiss, The (1964)

*** (out of 4)

Sam Fuller's hardhitting melodrama about a prostitute (Constance Towers) who decides to go straight after she does one last job. Now, living in a small town, she begins working with crippled children and appears to have her life in order but soon twisted events leads to her past coming out in the open. This is an incredibly beautiful film to look at as the cinematography is top notch and the B&W scenery looks great. This is a pretty strong film from start to finish even though it begins to drag some in the middle. The film doesn't pull any punches and contains some pretty strong dialogue but I guess we should expect this from the director. The dialogue and its strong tone certainly set it apart from other films from its era. The cast does very good work for the most part and that includes Towers who is very strong in her role. I'm not sure I'd call it a great performance but the way she uses her eyes and facial gestures to tell what she's feeling is very well done and makes this character quite memorable. Anthony Eisley is also excellent as a local police Captain who is one of the biggest hypocrites in the town.

This noir film dealt openly with topics that generally weren't dealt with at all (e.g., pedophilia) or only peripherally (e.g., prostitution, procuring)in 1964. It is the only film noir I know of in which a woman is the lead. Rather than being an adjunct or adversary to the hero, Kelly carries the film from beginning to end, and the twists and turns of the plot will surprise throughout. What mars it somewhat is some bad acting in the smaller roles.

I began looking into Sam Fuller after seeing a documentary about him on TV in which Scorsese, Tarantino, and Tim Robbins discussed his films. Scorsese also mentions Fuller in his "Personal Journey" film retrospective, in which he sites "The Naked Kiss" as a major influence. From what I've read, the studios found the material in "The Naked Kiss" to be a tad on the heinous side, and re-edited Fuller's film to the point where he didn't even want his name in the credits. His name is very much in the credits however, for soon after the film opens with a prostitute beating a man unconscious with the heel of her shoe, Fuller is named writer, director, and producer. I suspect that the discomfited staggering between camp, noir, and grotesque melodrama, might be more a result of studio tampering than Fuller's misdirection. It is also difficult to discern just what sort of censorship the studios achieved, for whatever they did was austerely permeated by social taboos the likes of abortion, prostitution, child molestation, and murder. These issues are treated by Fuller in a way that is decisively an ideological digression from noir, despite the film's sporadic use of noir's aesthetic. In noir, women are the enigmatic femme fatales: deceptive, seductive, fatal, and the primary antagonism of all men. It appears to be precisely the opposite in "The Naked Kiss." Fuller's protagonist, Kelly, an ex-hooker, tells a cop that you can always tell when a man is "a pervert" from his "naked kiss." Throughout the film, as Kelly encounters women dealing with abortion, prostitution, and pretty much just general depravity, Fuller shows men reinforcing and furthering their depravity, then condemning it when need be. The character of Griff, the cop, is the essence of this. To Fuller, there is a perversity in the way men treat women in American society, and it is reflected in the title of the film itself.

The Naked Kiss (1964)

Constance Towers is fresh off of Sam Fuller's Shock Corridor the previous year, and she is perfectly adroit at the saint/sinner, prostitute/angel dichotomy at the core of it. This is a crazy movie to take seriously, yet there are so many serious parts to it, not the least of which is child molesting. For a 1964 movie that's daring stuff. Throw in a corrupt lovable cop, sweet children with physical disabilities, tinkly fairy tale music that comes out of nowhere when she is looking at a bedroom to stay in, and some good old female fist fights. Out comes a Fuller masterwork, of sort.

It's flawed enough to make some people run, but edgy enough to glue others to their seats. If the movie industry was looking for ways to break out of the doldrums of the late 1950s and early 1960s (there are some terrible high budget films from these years), it overlooked the breakthroughs coming from the fringes. The directness and everyday nasty material here would be the bedrock of movies in just two or three years, as violence, frank sexual content, and flawed people became the norm.

You may as well admit, too, that the best parts of this movie are terrific, including some hard edged, sharp, black and white photography. The Criterion DVD is as close to great as you can get, even though there is some confusion about the way even this famed company handled the release. The movie was actually shot in 4:3 format, in so called "flat" 35mm shooting (no anamorphic lens used). It was then cropped along the top and bottom to create a wide screen format for theatrical release. The "fullscreen" version is formatted full (and I don't know if any of the fullscreen ones show the whole original "open matte" formatting, or are further cropped from the widescreen cropping). Either way, it was intended to be seen with wide screen composition, so get the Criterion. It's beautiful.