Shane Black's Frantic Film Noir

Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang
Warner Bros. // 2005 // 103 Minutes // Rated R

Reviewed by Steve Evans

“SeX. MurdEr. MyStery. Welcome to the party.” ~ From the promotional poster.

Opening Shot
Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang is a description coined by influential film critic Pauline Kael (who devoted most of her career to writing for The New Yorker). After seeing a poster for an Italian film that translated into those words, Kael decided that Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang is the briefest possible way to describe the fundamental appeal of movies: a little romance, a little action (sometimes that’s the same thing). Action screenwriter Shane Black (Lethal Weapon) makes his directorial debut with this bizarre film — heavy on dark comedy and bloody action, with a surreal flavor that will keep viewers off balance. For those who are game, it’s a hoot.

A Bit of Plot…
Small-time crook Harry Lockhart (Robert Downey Jr., Chaplin, The Solist) bumbles his way out of a failed heist in a New York City toy store into an acting audition, where he’s immediately offered the lead role as a detective in a new movie. We know this because Harry supplies constant narration and throws flashbacks into the mix whenever he gets confused about what's going on or what he intended to tell us. His commentary is heavily peppered with sub-references, asides, and hipster chit-chat. Harry confesses that he's not a good narrator, but he's all we've got, so deal with it.

Having nothing better to do, Harry relocates to Los Angeles. Producer Harlan Dexter (Corbin Bernsen, "LA Law") wants Harry to train for the detective role, so he hires a mentor — a caustic and über-tough gay detective, improbably named Gay Perry (Val Kilmer, Pollock). At one of Dexter's lavish Hollywood parties, Harry meets his dream girl in one Harmony Faith Lane (Michelle Monaghan, Mission: Impossible III, and at right). In the department of small coincidences, it turns out she really is Harry's dream girl, as the two were childhood friends. Then: flash, bam, pow! The plot kicks into overdrive. We're going to hit the accelerator now, so keep up:

A day later, while helping Gay Perry on a stakeout, Harry and the detective stumble across a murder, which may be tied to Harmony's missing sister, who's come to Hollywood looking for fame. But that may not have anything to do with the case because more bodies begin to pile up with no apparent connection between them. Yes, and it looks like Harry is being set up to take the rap…but all Harry wants to do is get it on with Harmony—whew, that's a lot of plot. There's more. Two extremely nasty bad guys are slinking around in the background working for some unknown evil individual. Or maybe not. Is Gay Perry really Harry's friend or foe? Maybe he's just a mean-spirited jackass who likes to mock people. Is Harry going to survive Hollywood with or without his twice-severed finger? How did Harry get to be such an ace shot with that semi-auto? When is Harmony going to stop acting coy and fool around with Harry, already? How many more Percocets will Harry have to swallow before the case starts to make sense and his hand stops hurting so much? And, considering what happens the second time his finger is lopped off, does Harry really want it back?

Context
This is self-referential pulp fiction for people who wish Tarantino would just shaddup and make movies. Writer-director Shane Black is working the same side of the street, but he clings tighter to the hard-boiled noir tradition. Tarantino takes only what interests him and inserts references to breakfast cereals. Tarantino wants everyone to think he's cool, although he reacts to praise like a puppy peeing on the carpet when its head is patted. But I get the impression Black doesn't give two shakes of a rat's ass what people think. Evidently, they didn't think much of his first film. And that's unfortunate because this is a unique piece of work, a real love-it-or-hate-it picture that viewers either "get" or they don't. If you smile at the idea of a detective movie making fun of detective movies while trashing all things Hollywood, then Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang belongs in your shopping cart.

Black (who also penned The Long Kiss Goodnight and turned in a brief supporting role in Predator), makes a curious directing debut with this picture. It's no classic action film, nor is it a failure. It's just…peculiar. At the risk of sounding hopelessly vague, he either tried too hard or not hard enough. The results are ultra-hip, super-cool, smart-assed, extremely violent, laugh-out-loud funny, and confusing as hell. Black's audacious film, which tanked at the box office, throws a knowing wink to those familiar with his bombastic style, but will also appeal to those who understand the classical noir tropes. There's probably too much inside baseball to appeal to mainstream audiences. Action film fans and noir cognoscenti will dig it the most. Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang has since developed a cult following and found success on DVD.

Downey and Kilmer play off each other with ridiculous ease, like two tennis pros knocking the ball back and forth just for kicks on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Kilmer is so deadpan convincing as a macho gay detective that you may have to remind yourself, hey, that's Val Kilmer. Monaghan is sexy as hell, but she's a lightweight actor. Since she's at least a decade younger than Downey, there's a plot quibble as well (they were childhood friends, remember?)

Black shows flair for staging action and outrageous violence. His set pieces are breathtaking both for their audacity and sick humor. He also likes to poke fun at noir clichés, but has the good sense to practice what worked in the 1940s and still works today: Virtually all the key characters are introduced at that Hollywood party, then Black cuts them loose to do their mischief in classic noir style. All the threads come together for a tidy and wholly unexpected conclusion.

If the movie has a dominant strength, it's Black's dialogue. No surprise, there. His characters prattle on in grand, profane style — sniping and cussing at each other in a fashion most elegant and sometimes overwhelming. I wouldn't mind if Black would settle down and concentrate on a story worthy of his immense talent with dialogue, rather than prancing around with all this smarty-pants hipster banter. It's funny, but all good things grow tiresome after awhile if that's the only trick in the hat. Still, the man puts words in the mouths of characters that grab our attention.


During a key scene, Kilmer's gay detective gets an urgent phone call from a character who needs help. Urgently. As in, right now. Kilmer's startled response is precious: "Why in pluperfect hell did you pee on the corpse?"


At that point, I was hooked.

The picture was produced by famed action maverick Joel Silver (Die Hard), whose personal wealth has been enormously enhanced by the Lethal Weapon franchise that Shane Black created. It will be interesting to see if Silver gives Black another shot, since his freshman directing effort wasn't a financial windfall for either of these players.

What’s on the Disc, Steve?
I’ll tell ya. Video and audio are tight; no qualms here. The commentary track with Black, Kilmer, and Downey is breezy and informative, but mostly funny as hell. These guys had a blast making the film, and seem to be having a mighty fine time dishing on the commentary track as well. An amusing gag reel and theatrical trailer round out the extras.

I had a big time spinning this film, but I also watch a lot of movies so anything fresh and unique will pique my interest. I also understand that Black's brand of humor tends to attract a narrow audience who are willing to forgive his excesses for the sake of watching him score a direct hit. Black scores often; his characters slice each other to the bone with their words.

So when does too much of a good thing become bad? The answer is clearly a matter of taste. Some viewers will grow weary of Black's wise-ass characters long before Act II cranks up. Others will wander into Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang expecting another round of Riggs and Murtaugh shenanigans. And they'll be disappointed.

Black raises the bar quite high, then shows off by demonstrating how nimbly he can leap over it—and how often. This is certain to annoy some people. For the action crowd accustomed to formulaic plots populated with dim-bulb heroes (hello, gov'nah!), this noir satire may be too slick for its own good.

Coda
Here's a crime movie for people who live to watch crime movies. If Pulp Fiction, Get Shorty, and Out of Sight are your idea of fun, then Black's venomous bon-bon will surely satisfy. It’s a ribald, raunchy, rockin’ good time.

Copyright © 2009 by Cinematic Cteve // dba Cinema Uprising. All rights reserved.

Saturday Night Fun: An "Old Dark House" Mystery

The Cat And The Canary: Uncut Director's Edition
First Run Features // 1979 // 98 Minutes // Rated PG

Reviewed by Steve Evans

“Where there’s a will, there’s a relative.” ~ From the Promotional Poster.

Opening Shot (or: why should you give a damn about this picture?)
Director Radley Metzger was renowned for shooting slick, elegantly photographed soft-core sex films in the late 1960s, later veering into hard-core. The Opening of Misty Beethoven (1976) is probably the best-known picture in his hard-core oeuvre, although the director's real talent was erotica — an entirely different beast. Metzger's The Lickerish Quartet is widely considered one of the most sensual and erotically-charged of all films. Possibly in a bid to go legit, Metzger took a break from those probing pursuits to co-write this script and direct an international cast in the fourth film version of The Cat and the Canary. The film features a sturdy ensemble, headlined by Honor Blackman (Pussy Galore in Goldfinger), Olivia Hussey (Death on the Nile), Edward Fox (Day of the Jackal) and Carol Lynley (perhaps best known for warbling “There's got to be a morning after” in The Poseidon Adventure). Metzger elicits good performances from his cast, considering the silly story and purple prose that passes for dialogue. If characters sound stilted, that’s only because a pornographer with artistic aspirations put the words in their mouths.

A Bit of Plot…
1934 England. A wretched, rainy night.

A sniveling family of snobs arrives at their dead uncle’s mansion, Glencliff Manor, for a reading of his will 20 years after the man’s death, as was his final wish. Via home movies (let’s just accept the notion that the wealthy could afford movie cameras in 1914), the dead man (Wilfrid Hyde-White, The Browning Version) speaks to his money-grubbing relatives from beyond the grave. As they watch his flickering image during dinner, the cantankerous old geezer taunts and insults them — accurately calling his kin a bunch of bastards and leeches — and finally bequeaths his fortune to lovely, wide-eyed Annabelle (Lynley). There’s just one hitch: all of the assembled relatives must spend the night in the mansion. If Annabelle dies or is declared insane within 12 hours, then the relatives must sit through a second film, when a new heir will be named. As one cousin observes, it's practically an invitation to murder.

While these avaricious types mull this development, an escaped psycho killer known as The Cat is roaming the countryside — heading for Glencliff Manor. This new wrinkle is confirmed by Hendricks (Edward Fox), the director of an insane asylum, who makes a curious entrance by crashing through a library window on the ground floor of the old mansion. He brusquely warns the dinner party about home security, then disappears into the night.

With all the pieces in motion, there’s nothing to do but beware of things that go bump in the night. Some of the assembled guests will not see the dawn.

Historical Context and Significance
Although this hoary “reading of the will” plot was done perhaps most memorably in Bob Hope’s comedy version from 1939, Metzger’s take on the material is not without merit. (What attracted him to it is a greater mystery than the plot itself.) Metzger brings wry humor to the stuffy and veddy British proceedings, poking fun at the manners and mores of the wealthy and those who desperately wish to be. This is all handled very tongue-in-cheek. Think of an Agatha Christie novel crossed with an episode of Fawlty Towers, or imagine the characters from the board game Clue all high on airplane glue.

The humor is often subtle and occasionally sophisticated: Characters toss off witheringly sarcastic remarks, punctuated by droll observations, general rudeness and laughable pretentiousness. This is not a criticism but a caveat, as the film is an acquired taste and probably not for viewers expecting blood and guts horror, low-brow comedy or the arty smut for which Metzger was most famous.

Blackman acquits herself despite a campy performance; in a few scenes where she is required to get catty, Blackman comes close to gnawing on a hambone, instead. Hussey is given little to do but look beautiful, which she does effortlessly anyway. Given the choice, Hussey would have been much better cast as the lucky Annabelle, while relegating the dull Lynley to a supporting role. Fox was fascinating as the relentless assassin in Day of the Jackal, but here he has little more than a cameo. With such a commanding presence, it’s unfortunate that the script did not accommodate a few more scenes for this great character actor.

Maybe we’re asking too much. As it happens, the cast is mostly slumming through material that had long since been filmed to death. The Cat and the Canary started life as a 1922 stage production in New York, followed by a silent film in ’27 and two versions during the 1930s — including the Bob Hope classic. Most of the possibilities had been played out. So Metzger tries to have it both ways and ends up with a fascinating 98 minutes of schizophrenia. He plays up the comedy in the first act, shifting radically toward horror and madness in Act Two, then winks at his audience as the proceedings turn completely crazy at the climax. A happy post-mortem brings us full circle before the credits roll.

What’s on the Disc, Steve?
I’ll tell ya. The Cat and the Canary is presented in a widescreen transfer with a gorgeous color palette and sumptuous cinematography. This is a non-anamorphic transfer, albeit a good-looking one, probably owing more to the source material and Metzger's talents with camera placement, lighting and film stock.

Close inspection of the camerawork reveals many inspired flourishes, such as when a servant pouring coffee at dinner walks behind the movie screen during the reading of the will. She suddenly appears on the portable screen to pour the dead uncle a cup of coffee in the twenty-year-old home movie, then remerges on the other side of the screen, coffee pot in hand. Though it was a cliché decades before this version was released in 1979, there are several terrific lightning effects to illuminate shadowed faces and reveal horrific surprises at key moments.

The audio presentation is in the original Dolby mono, clean and relatively free of hiss. Dialogue is clear.

Extras include production notes and a slide show that chronicles the evolution of the story from its origins on the stage, to the 1927 silent movie, two films made in the 1930s and a selection of nine production photos from this 1979 version. The disc also includes four trailers of other films released by First Run Features; three were directed by Metzger.

This “Uncut Director’s Edition” is a misnomer, as there is no information to indicate what has been restored to the film. A director’s commentary is sorely missed (Metzger is still around’ he turned 80 earlier this year). Regardless, viewers aren't going to encounter anything beyond a PG rating, which could disappoint fans of Metzger’s racier work.

The Contrarian View
Wild shifts in tone may also be off-putting to viewers accustomed to contemporary comedy-thrillers that demand little of an audience. Half the pleasure of this film is listening closely to the dialogue, ripe with sarcasm and venom as bug-eyed characters roam the cavernous old mansion, stumbling across secret passages and generally acting foolish — considering there’s a madman on the loose.

As a whodunit, the unmasking of the psycho killer is handled rather clumsily, while the explanation for the crimes carries all the narrative sophistication and surprise of a Scooby Doo cartoon. That places The Cat and the Canary squarely in satire territory, as the thrills and suspense are too sparse to qualify the movie as a genuine mystery. Truth is, there are more spoofs than spooks in Glencliff Manor. But since the actors don’t take this too seriously, why should we? Given the narrowly defined appeal of the film and a list price approaching $30, the disc seems targeted toward highly selective collectors who know precisely what they’re looking for in an arid comedy-thriller.

The Cat and the Canary is an entertaining bit of English drollery that pokes fun at British snobs while having fun with the conventions and clichés of the mystery genre. As dry as a martini, the film is the cinematic equivalent of after-dinner sherry and cigars in a drawing room with witty, irreverent companions. The tale is as old as film itself. Because Metzger clearly understands this, he infuses the picture with as much satire as the thin story will support.

Coda
Those who enjoy “old dark house” mysteries and British humour should find this picture delightful. I’d like to see First Run Features start releasing proper anamorphic transfers of films in its catalog. Until then, everyone but The Cat is free to go.

Copyright © 2009 by Cinematic Cteve // dba Cinema Uprising. All rights reserved.

Classic Commando Cinema

The Guns Of Navarone
Sony // 1961 // 158 Minutes

By Steve Evans

“An impenetrable fortress, an invincible army…and the unstoppable commando team.” ~ From the Promotional Poster.

Opening Shot
“Look, sir. First, you've got that bloody old fortress on top of that bloody cliff. Then you've got the bloody fortress inside the cliff. You can't even see the bloody cave, let alone the bloody guns. And even if we could, sir, we haven't got a bloody bomb big enough to smash that bloody rock. And that's the bloody truth.” ~ So sez David Niven to Gregory Peck.

A classic thriller of World War II action and espionage explodes off the screen. Nominated for seven Academy Awards in 1961, including Best Picture, The Guns of Navarone won for Best Special Effects, which still hold up well nearly half a century later. Budgeted at $6 million, it was among the most expensive movies made up to that time, and that money is all on screen.

Hugely influential, The Guns of Navarone is a legendary action film, with excellent production values, a sterling international cast, a literate script (from the bestselling novel by Alistair MacLean), hair-raising escapes, and suspense galore.

A Bit of Plot…
Gregory Peck and David Niven lead an international cast on a covert operation through Greece in the waning days of the Second World War. Their mission? Destroy German cannons in a fortified position high on the rocky cliffs of Navarone, an island on the Aegean Sea. The Germans use the deadly artillery installation to sink British ships attempting to rescue some 2,000 Allied troops stranded on a nearby island. The commando team has six days to infiltrate and destroy Navarone before the Germans massacre the troops. Mountain climber Peck and demolition man Niven resolve to destroy the guns and clear the sea passage. They assemble a strike force of war-movie archetypes, including the deadly Greek soldier Stavros (Anthony Quinn), a sniper, a war-weary commando, and a Greek freedom fighter (Irene Papas). Following a few truncated scenes of character development, the group sets off on their mission, armed with automatic weapons and enough explosives to bring down a mountain.

Long before they reach Navarone, the team must face enemy fire, outflank German patrols, work their way through several nail-biting escapes, commandeer a leaky vessel, deal with personality clashes among themselves, and unmask the traitor in their midst.

Peck brings grim resolve to his role, nicely counterbalanced by the more sensitive Niven, who pessimistically observes that they are on a suicide mission. Quinn defines machismo and Papas adds another layer of realism to the story as a hardened fighter who is unafraid to kill — or to reveal her sensitive side. Look fast for Richard Harris as an impudent Australian pilot early in the picture.

The climactic attack on Navarone still packs an explosive wallop, as our saboteur heroes infiltrate the fortress and attempt to blow it to the bottom of the sea.

Navarone can also be seen as the granddaddy of commando movies. Its success paved the way for such action vehicles as The Dirty Dozen and Kelly's Heroes. Quentin Tarantino’s upcoming Inglourious Basterds (21 Aug. 2009) owes a nod to Navarone as well.

What’s on the Disc, Steve?
I’ll tell ya. The DVD offers a vibrant print with crystal-clear sound in re-mixed Dolby 5.1. This seriously good-looking transfer fills the widescreen image with breathtaking color. One of the highlights of Navarone is the gorgeous cinematography, as much of the picture was filmed on location in Greece, with the plentiful special-effects work shot in England at Shepperton Studios in Surrey.

The disc includes a choice of subtitles in eight languages, two audio formats, and an easy-to-navigate scene selection menu. Additional extras include:

• Director J. Lee Thompson’s commentary track, recorded just before his death in 2002.
• Retrospective Documentary
• “Message from Carl Foreman” – blacklisted screenwriter who also penned High Noon.
• Four Original Featurettes
• Talent Files
• Theatrical Trailers
• Production Notes

For a 48-year-old film, clean audio in a nicely re-mixed Dolby 5.1 soundtrack is a definite plus. The subwoofer gets a vigorous workout and the rear-channel speakers are fairly involved during action sequences for an immersive sonic experience. At times, it feels like a mountain is coming down on top of us. Cool.

As for the Oscar-winning special effects, contemporary audiences will note instantly that the climactic battle relies heavily on models and miniature pyrotechnics, although editing helps obscure this to some degree. Still, these are certainly elaborate models, photographed with the best optical printing systems available in 1961, and it is in that context that modern viewers are encouraged to enjoy the film.

Thompson allows the action to bog down in several sections as though he has confused careful pacing with inducing boredom, but these scenes pass and the momentum builds inexorably toward a raucous finale.

Coda
An intelligent, action-packed thriller, The Guns of Navarone is a must-have for any serious collector of adventure films. Cast and crew acquit themselves with honor. The famous guns are fated to a fiery demise.

Copyright © 2009 by Cinematic Cteve // dba Cinema Uprising. All rights reserved.

Flashback to Groovy Peter Sellers

I Love You Alice B. Toklas
Warner Bros. // 1968 // 94 Minutes // Rated R

Reviewed by Steve Evans

“I’ve got pot, I’ve got acid, I’ve got LSD cubes. I'm probably the hippest guy around here. I’m so hip, it hurts!” — so sez Peter Sellers.

Opening Shot
Brilliant comedian Peter Sellers (Being There) stars in this badly-dated picture about the hypocrisies of the 1960s counter-culture. Most of the jokes are built around squares who ingest drugs by accident and discover the joys of getting high, while making the case that hippies were relatively benign (though ultimately goofy and, therefore, safe for mainstream America). The results are sporadically funny, like your silly-ass uncle cracking jokes about things he’ll never understand.

A bit of pot, er, plot…
Career-minded Jewish professional Harold Fine (Sellers) thinks he’s in love. At least that’s what his badgering fiancée (Joyce Van Patten, St. Elmo’s Fire) keeps telling him. She wants to set a wedding date. Harold’s bored; he wonders if this is all there is to life. But when he meets groovy Nancy (Leigh Taylor-Young in her film debut), a free love-espousing hippie, Harold decides to tune in, turn on, drop out — and get laid.

Turns out Nancy is quite a baker, thanks to her secret ingredient, high-octane pot. She leaves a plate of freshly baked goodies at Harold’s apartment. Later, when Harold and his harridan fiancée come home with Harold’s parents, they greedily devour the chocolate treats over coffee — clueless to the magic ingredient inside.

Harold’s hooked. He leaves his fiancée at the altar to pursue the counterculture life — free love, music, blissed-out afternoon delights — but he soon discovers that hippies are as hypocritical as any other group of people. This leaves Harold with a dilemma: Turn back? Remain in stoned stasis? Or move on?

Historical Context and Significance
Screenwriter Paul Mazursky got his start in Hollywood as an actor (Blackboard Jungle) and would later direct such social comedies as Down and Out in Beverly Hills, a remake of Jean Renoir’s classic satire, Boudu Saved From Drowning. A satirist at heart, Mazursky's career never really took flight into A-list status, possibly because his projects are so anchored to the period in which they were made as to be instantly dated and soon forgotten. I Love You Alice B. Toklas is the example that proves the point. Then again, taking pot-shots (!) at hippies and squares is not the riskiest subject for satire. It should come as no surprise that people can be shallow and self-absorbed whether they smoke a fat doobie or quaff martinis at the country club.

All that’s left of any significance is Sellers himself, and this is his show all the way. He mutates from buttoned-down professional into flute playing hippie, segues into a tuxedo for an aborted wedding and then takes off again on a new tangent. A master of understated comedy, Sellers brings a deadpan bemusement to his various personas, yet he can effortlessly explode into mania. He was a fascinating talent (dying too young of a heart attack at 54), and remains the lone reason to watch this film. As his fiancée, Van Patten is a shrill harridan who bypasses humor to go straight for annoyance. Taylor-Young (Soylent Green) is a lightweight actor, but effervescently sexy – and that’s all her role really demands.

The title track is sung by Harper’s Bizarre (below, right), and if you're hip to that, then you said “ugh!” before reaching the end of this sentence. The smiling, shiny-people ethos of this deservedly forgotten vocal group is so unctuous as to induce nausea. Harper’s Bizarre makes The Association (“Cherish”) sound like Black Sabbath. Such was the state of saccharine, hippy-dippy pop music in 1968: featherlight, inchoate nonsense. Middle America, the target audience for this movie, wasn’t quite ready for Jimi Hendrix on the soundtrack; and the hippies who wandered into the theater were probably too ripped to care.

What’s on the Disc, Steve?
I’ll tell ya. The video transfer is sharp and clean. Audio sounds adequate in the original mono. A theatrical trailer is the only extra on the disc, which is too bad. I would have enjoyed a Mazursky commentary track (director Hy Averback, who worked mostly in television, died in 1997).

I mention with amusement that the DVD keepcase lists an R rating for the film. Ludicrous. The picture was released in October 1968 and the MPAA ratings system did not come into place until the following month. My suspicion is Warner Brothers some years later resubmitted the film for a rating and it was saddled with an R. Regardless, the picture, at most, contains content deserving of a PG rating.

Tangential Musings
As comedy and social commentary, the picture is anchored securely in 1968. This can be a fun, lighthearted time capsule for viewers in a playful mood with minimal expectations.

I wish I’d known that 30 years ago, as I might not have bothered.

This film actually screened at my high school when I was a junior. Incredibly, members of my English Lit class persuaded our teacher to rent the picture and show it to a gathering of all English classes in the waning days before summer vacation. Understand, these were the days before video rental stores, when VCRs cost upwards of $400 and there was still a serious question of whether a superior videotape format known as Beta might yet dominate the market. It just wasn’t possible for delinquent kids to acquire movies on their own, much less be able to afford the rental of a 16mm print. We also had a greater purpose in mind. The idea of making a political statement in school with a counterculture comedy, however benign and 10 years after the fact, was ridiculously appealing. So how to pull this off?

Hang with me a moment for a brief lesson in English Lit. and human psychology.

An audacious bunch, the ring leaders of our little scheme claimed that watching I Love You Alice B. Toklas would be a worthwhile educational experience because Gertrude Stein was a famous writer and member of the 1920s Lost Generation that included Ernest Hemingway and whose members hung out in Parisian cafes, boozing it up while composing great poetry and fiction (this part of the story was true). We had been reading Hemingway that year and a bit of Stein. Convincing our teacher that this had anything to do with a Peter Sellers dope comedy took a bit more ingenuity.

The connective thread to all this bullshit was the fact that a woman named Alice B. Toklas was Stein's lover and muse during those heady years in Paris. Toklas had also achieved notoriety for baking fudge infused with hashish (Google the name and you might come up with her 1954 recipe). Since we also knew that our English teacher was a lesbian (when you notice her at a Bavarian restaurant kissing another woman, it’s a fair bet), the twisted logic of our scheme seemed foolproof: persuade an instructor to rent a countercultural movie extolling the joys of hashish and pot, and screen it in the middle of a school day, by implying to her that the picture had something to do with one of the great literary love affairs of the early 20th century, involving two women.

I provided the clincher, telling teacher that only six years earlier Peter Sellers had co-starred in an adaptation of Nabokov’s most famous novel (also a true statement). Dropping Stanley Kubrick’s Lolita into the conversation was like catnip to this bookworm. So she booked the film, sight unseen, knowing next to nothing about it. We were lucky; reference books like Leonard Maltin’s annual guide to film were scarce and the Internet did not exist.

A month later we watched the picture one afternoon before the school buses arrived to carry us home. Afterward, we all pretty much agreed that the late 1960s were a strange and not terribly funny period for movies.

And so, as often happens in this life, our efforts far and away exceeded our reward. Funny thing is, teacher wasn't amused, either. She went from gullible to galled in 94 minutes.

That’s my shaggy dog story concerning I Love You Alice B. Toklas. A couple years later I caught Dr. Strangelove at the local revival house and decided that Sellers was a hipster genius after all.

The Contrarian View
I Love You Alice B. Toklas is a must for fans of Peter Sellers. His bemused, put-upon characters are always a hoot, and this picture is worth one spin if only to see Sellers flirting with Leigh Taylor-Young. She’s hot in that spacey-blond “girls just wanna have fun, so c'mon and throw it to me, daddy-o” kinda way. That butterfly tattoo on her upper thigh is also attractive.

Coda
Unless you’re a Peter Sellers fan the picture is merely a passable diversion, a relic of a bygone era, and nothing more. If the film wasn’t so dated, it could play today on network television as a tame Movie of the Week. Can’t say whether mainstream America would toke up before watching.

Copyright © 2009 by Cinematic Cteve // dba Cinema Uprising. All rights reserved.