Writer(s): De Palma
Starring: Michael Caine, Angie Dickinson, Nancy Allen, and Keith Gordon
I have not seen a lot of Brian De Palma’s filmography, but an almost universal acceptance—even amongst his own fans—is that the results are wildly uneven. Having seen Dressed to Kill, I can only imagine such feedback is accurate, because even the results within this 105-minute love affair to Italian giallos manages to run the entire gamut from unintentionally hilarious, to feverishly original.
Angie Dickinson plays Kate Miller, a sexually-frustrated wife who vents about her husband’s poor performance in the sack to her psychiatrist, Dr. Robert Elliott (Michael Caine). So desperate is she for an intense sexual encounter that she throws herself at him, to which he denies her, on the basis that he is both married, and a doctor. So she heads to an art museum, where she catches the eye of a mysterious man. In a ballsy scene that seems to go on forever, Kate searches for the man, while he plays “hard to get”. First, she drops (or intentionally leaves?) one of her gloves on the ground. The man picks it up and tries giving it back to her, but she seems to think she is being attacked (?) and runs away. Then she realizes he was just trying to give her back her glove and goes searching for him, only to discover that he is gone. Just as she’s about to give up for good, she spots him, waving her glove, in a taxi cab.
The entire above sequence lasts close to nine minutes, and features no dialogue whatsoever; it is accompanied entirely by symphonic score. Somehow, despite Kate’s ignorance over the whole glove fiasco, it works, but it’s not the only time De Palma allows substance to fight with style; thanks to his assured direction, style generally manages to win, but the margin always seems to be too close for comfort.
Anyway, having just met this man, they proceed to make out (and then some) in the back of the taxi. She goes home with him and spends some intimate time with him, before they both crash on the couch, to the soothing sounds of television. She gets up and plans to sneak out, but then contemplates calling her husband, which she finally does. Like in all these movies, she can’t bring herself to speak to him, but his uncaring attitude after answering the phone tells her all she needs to know, so she hangs up. Next, Kate goes to leave her man a note, only to discover paperwork that affirms he has a venereal disease. Oops! This pointless plot contrivance will be a moot point in only a matter of moments. She gets on an elevator to head to the lobby, but the forgetful bitch has once again forgotten something…this time it’s only her wedding ring. Again, it's another moot point--once she hits the seventh floor, she is viciously slaughtered by a woman wielding a straight razor.
As with many giallo films, there are a couple witnesses: a prostitute and her latest customer. He jets the moment he sees Kate’s mutilated body, but in true Italian slasher film fashion, the prostitute eventually teams up with Kate’s son, Peter, and the two launch their own investigation into the murder. It just so happens, too, that Peter is a science nerd; his freewheeling creations, paired up with Kate’s fascination (in both the case and, eventually and inexplicably, Peter himself) put them hot on the trail, and directly in the crosshairs of, the killer!
I have to confess that I never care enough to guess the identity of the killer in any of these films; oftentimes, the clues laid out don’t add up to much, but here I have to say it all comes together surprisingly well. I still didn’t even try guessing as to the killer’s identity, but once it’s revealed, it does actually make sense. Also true to similar films from the genre, there’s even an obligatory “wrap up” at the end, featuring a panel of characters more or less breaking down every little detail of the movie, just to make sure we understand everything and were following along. It also goes deeper into the murderer’s motivations, and I have to say, it’s pretty inspired stuff, especially considering I don’t even like most of these scenes in authentic giallos.
In the end, Dressed to Kill is often dated, but at least it’s never boring. De Palma utilizes some elongated sequences to incredible effect (the whole elevator murder sequence is a thing of beauty), but also slips up with several split-screen scenes that are so unnecessary, they’re singlehandedly the “unintentionally hilarious” scenes I alluded to in my intro. It also doesn’t quite have the same level of inventiveness or wild visual splendor that a great film by, say, Argento might have, but it’s probably as close to capturing the same level of whimsy that any American director could hope to achieve, especially within the era this movie was made.
RECAP: It alternates seamlessly between “pointless”, “dated”, “inspired”, and “original”, but De Palma’s work is certainly never boring. There are a few moments of unintentional hilarity, and there’s not nearly as much style as one would find in a typical giallo film (of which this was clearly inspired by), but it’s helped along by some excellent shots, a great orchestral score (by Pino Donaggio), and confident direction from De Palma. Of course, sometimes that confidence is entirely misplaced, but it’s still confidence nonetheless. Worth a look for giallo fans, but slasher fans and gore hounds take note: aside from the murder that serves as centerpiece to the story, there’s not a lot of additional violence at all.
RATING: 6/10
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