When the Production Code was first actively enforced in 1934, adultery was one of its biggest gripes. True to his reputation for pushing boundaries, it was also one of Billy Wilder's favourite themes. Indeed, he utilised adultery in several of his most important pictures, either in a negative {'Double Indemnity (1944)' or 'The Apartment (1960)'}, ambiguous {'The Seven Year Itch (1955)'} or even positive light {'Avanti! (1972),' in which Jack Lemmon sleeps with another woman seemingly out of politeness}. This is not entirely unexpected, given that at least according to some biographies Wilder himself was regularly unfaithful to his first wife, Judith Coppicus. 'Kiss Me, Stupid (1964)' is the one Wilder film whose themes left something of a bitter taste in my mouth. The film is bold, certainly, but is it right? By 1964, Hollywood was finally breaking free from the shackles of censorship. A decade earlier, Wilder had been prohibited from implying a sexual encounter between Tom Ewell and Marilyn Monroe in 'The Seven Year Itch.' Now he could get away with it, and he didn't hold back!
The small town of Climax, Nevada, is not true to its name; nothing ever happens there. But that doesn't stop Orville Spooner (Ray Walston), a jittery piano teacher and song-writer, from constantly suspecting his beautiful wife Zelda (Felicia Farr) of adultery. That, at least, was until hard-drinking, womanising nightclub singer Dino (Dean Martin, boldly playing a sleazy satiric version of his own public image) passes through town, and is preoccupied with one thing, and one thing only. Fearing for his wife's faithfulness, but determined to sell Dino some of his own tunes, Orville sends Zelda away for the night, substituting her with a waitress/prostitute (Kim Novak) from the town's seedy bar joint, The Bellybutton. While arrogant scumbag Dino goes about his not-so-subtle business, Orville does his best to offer his "wife" to the celebrity, but eventually becomes fiercely protective of his fabricated spouse. This plot turn recalls 'Irma La Douce (1963),' incidentally another film about a prostitute with a heart of gold, in which Jack Lemmon inexplicably becomes jealous of himself.
Ray Walston's determined mugging in the main role almost got on my nerves, but thankfully lasted the film's running time. Even so, the more subtle touch of Peter Sellers who pulled out six weeks into shooting for health reasons would have been considerably more enjoyable. Novak and Farr (Jack Lemmon's wife) are solid in their respective roles, as is the juvenile Cliff Osmond, but it's Dino who steals the show. But 'Kiss Me, Stupid' is still one of Wilder's lesser efforts. Both the writing and the black-and-white photography are unpolished and occasionally uncomfortably vulgar (Joseph LaShelle, surprisingly, also shot the exquisite-looking 'Laura (1944)' and 'The Apartment (1960)'). The film ends, somewhat ambiguously, with both Orville and Zelda committing adultery, the former out of compassion, and the latter ostensibly to do her husband a favour. Cue the happy ending. How exactly are we, the audience, supposed to feel about this? That everything worked out all right in the end? I guess two wrongs do make a right, after all.
The small town of Climax, Nevada, is not true to its name; nothing ever happens there. But that doesn't stop Orville Spooner (Ray Walston), a jittery piano teacher and song-writer, from constantly suspecting his beautiful wife Zelda (Felicia Farr) of adultery. That, at least, was until hard-drinking, womanising nightclub singer Dino (Dean Martin, boldly playing a sleazy satiric version of his own public image) passes through town, and is preoccupied with one thing, and one thing only. Fearing for his wife's faithfulness, but determined to sell Dino some of his own tunes, Orville sends Zelda away for the night, substituting her with a waitress/prostitute (Kim Novak) from the town's seedy bar joint, The Bellybutton. While arrogant scumbag Dino goes about his not-so-subtle business, Orville does his best to offer his "wife" to the celebrity, but eventually becomes fiercely protective of his fabricated spouse. This plot turn recalls 'Irma La Douce (1963),' incidentally another film about a prostitute with a heart of gold, in which Jack Lemmon inexplicably becomes jealous of himself.
Ray Walston's determined mugging in the main role almost got on my nerves, but thankfully lasted the film's running time. Even so, the more subtle touch of Peter Sellers who pulled out six weeks into shooting for health reasons would have been considerably more enjoyable. Novak and Farr (Jack Lemmon's wife) are solid in their respective roles, as is the juvenile Cliff Osmond, but it's Dino who steals the show. But 'Kiss Me, Stupid' is still one of Wilder's lesser efforts. Both the writing and the black-and-white photography are unpolished and occasionally uncomfortably vulgar (Joseph LaShelle, surprisingly, also shot the exquisite-looking 'Laura (1944)' and 'The Apartment (1960)'). The film ends, somewhat ambiguously, with both Orville and Zelda committing adultery, the former out of compassion, and the latter ostensibly to do her husband a favour. Cue the happy ending. How exactly are we, the audience, supposed to feel about this? That everything worked out all right in the end? I guess two wrongs do make a right, after all.