Body Heat

 

Writer/director Lawrence Kasdan

Kathleen Turner and William Hurt

Kasdan and Kathleen Turner

BODY HEAT             A                                                                                                                  USA  (113 mi)  1981  d: Lawrence Kasdan

Ned is caught in limbo, in a dream.  I wanted this film to have the intricate structure of a dream, the density of a good novel, and the texture of recognizable people in extraordinary circumstances.        —Lawrence Kasdan, quoted by Richard Corliss from Time magazine, August 24, 1981, Cinema: Torrid Movie, Hot New Star 

The debut film for both Kasdan and Kathleen Turner, this is a sweaty entry into the heat-oppressed, neo-noir landscape, joining films like J. Lee Thompson’s Cape Fear (1962), Robert Altman’s The Long Goodbye (1973), John Huston’s CHINATOWN (1974), and Arthur Penn’s Night Moves (1975). While comparisons are aptly made to Double Indemnity (1944), with Turner playing the Barbara Stanwyck femme fatale, yet perhaps going further to an even darker place, it actually opens just like  Out of the Past (1947), with William Hurt playing the Robert Mitchum role waiting to meet “the girl,” even if he has to wait endlessly at a bar she frequents until she finally shows up, and when she does, the hot and sticky Floridian landscape is ripe for the raw sexuality of a heated erotic thriller with murderous implications.  After co-writing the screenplays of two hugely successful movies, George Lucas’s THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK (1980) and Stephen Spielberg’s RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK (1981), the former advertising copywriter was offered a chance to direct his own film, making the most of his opportunity, initially turned down by Fox because he insisted upon casting unknown stars, but George Lucas agreed to help finance the film for a smaller studio, even offering advice in the editing room that Kasdan never forgot, reminding him, “Making movies has nothing to do with the technical stuff.  It has everything to do with what kind of person you are.”  Set in the backwater town of Miranda Beach, Florida in the middle of a heat wave, Hurt plays Ned Racine, a lawyer of dubious reputation, with a slew of one-night stands under his belt, whose best friends are assistant deputy prosecutor Peter Lowenstein (Ted Danson, a year before he landed the lead television role in Cheers) and police detective Oscar Grace (J. A. Preston, a year before he landed a television role in Hill Street Blues), who have a habit of meeting in a local diner, shooting the breeze while catching up on their sordid lives, with Lowenstein living vicariously off Racine’s sexual exploits.  It’s clear this is largely a male-driven film, where everything is seen through the eyes of Racine, a bright, likable guy who is the anchor of the film, a small-town lawyer striking it big when he meets an alluring femme fatale in Matty Walker (Kathleen Turner), who is simply extraordinary, reveling in her sexuality with an undeniably devastating presence that literally jumps off the screen (Hurt gets top billing, but Turner steals the show), married to one of the wealthiest men in the area who is twenty years her senior, trapped in a loveless marriage with an ironclad prenuptial agreement that leaves her nothing, living in a mammoth estate, the kind of thing you only see in pictures, yet what we remember is the haunting sound of the front porch wind chimes.  Their torrid affair is all hush hush, but we quickly surmise what’s at stake, surrounded by swaying palms and the constant threat of danger, though we never really get under her façade to see what’s lurking underneath, becoming a seductive metaphor for the destructive power of ambition, offering a staggering amount of hints and inferences, though it’s typically viewed through the male perspective, a product of the male fantasy, driven by ego and lust, where the sweat and suffocating heat provide the atmospheric conditions for some sizzling sex and lurid ideas that extinguish all rational thought, leading into a danger zone, where murder and sex are the same impulse, resulting in a deal to kill the husband consummated in a lawyer’s office.  This film set the tone for a string of excellent neo-noir films that followed, like Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner (1982), the Coen Brother’s Blood Simple (1984), William Friedkin’s To Live and Die in LA (1985), David Lynch’s BLUE VELVET (1986), also Michael Mann’s Thief (1981) and MANHUNTER (1986).

Openly intending to reinvent the seething amorality of the best film noirs from the 1940’s, it’s got it all in this neon-shaded contemporary romance, where lust, greed, murder, duplicity, and betrayal are proud standard bearers for this creatively inspired movie, with a jazzy sax-heavy musical score composed by John Barry (who scored many James Bond movies) that elevates the film, heightening the emotional stakes, remaining sexy, seductive, and a little sad, John Barry - Body Heat - 1981 YouTube (3:17), where perhaps the most recognizable refrain comes near the end of this musical sequence, Body Heat - Track 06 I'm Frightened YouTube (2:36).  The torrid chemistry between lead actors William Hurt and Kathleen Turner helped launch the much-discussed film into part of the public conversation, adoringly shot in ‘Scope by Richard H. Kline, expressing a luxurious and sultry beauty.  Exhibiting a razor-sharp tongue, Matty’s opening salvo is “You’re not too smart, I like that in a man,” Body Heat (1981) Lawrence Kasdan HD William Hurt, Kathleen Turner YouTube (4:56), immediately setting the stage for what follows.   Hunkered down at the local watering hole for the exclusive and the elite, Racine scopes the joint before finding his opportunity, assuming a position next to her that few have been privileged enough to obtain, only to hear that smoky, husky voice offer her lay of the landscape, like a warning shot, “There are some men once they get a whiff of it they trail you like a hound,” yet all her dire warnings of disappointment only whet his appetite for more, getting him so wound up there’s no possible way he could just get up and walk away, Body Heat (1981) - Bar Scene - 1080p HD YouTube (3:48), getting ensnared in a nihilistic vision only meant for the most primal impulses, yet he wouldn’t have it any other way, as he’s heard the call of the wild, Body Heat 1981 William Hurt, Kathleen turner YouTube (1:41).  Once he’s hooked, he’s trapped in the illusion of love and glory, which she feeds to him on a platter, finding himself sucked into believing this is paradise, the answer to all his prayers, yet there’s an insatiable need that drives his every move, living on the edge, where he’s constantly reminded there’s an immovable obstacle standing in his way, who only shows up on weekends, but a formidable opponent, as he has money, marriage, and the law on his side, while Racine would be viewed as an opportunist, an outside intruder, a man driven by the worst impulses, where he hasn’t a leg to stand on, which comes to light in a chance encounter, meeting face to face, where Edmund Walker (Richard Crenna, aka Colonel Trautman from the Rambo movies), is a force to be reckoned with, Great Richard Crenna scene in 'Body Heat' (1981) YouTube (4:27).  She’s the outlier, the exception to the rule, driven by the same darker regions that Racine inhabits, only more cunning and calculating, an unscrupulous and sinister woman whose greed knows no bounds, seemingly smoothing it all out, making murder seem necessary and normal, but it’s an aberration, a violation of all that’s untarnished, twisting things up in his mind and making him think it was all his idea.  Kasdan hired Carole Littleton as the film editor to get a female perspective, especially when it came to the sex scenes, much of which ended up on the cutting floor, as he didn’t want this to resemble a male sex fantasy.  A tagline for the film suggests, “As the temperature rises, the suspense begins.”

Racine is not the Atticus Finch lawyer depicted in the movies, but is defined by his human flaws, with a small practice in a small Florida town about an hour north of Miami, handling all kinds of cases, personal injury suits, wills, real estate deals, more serious crimes and anything else that looks promising.  A womanizer who gets easily distracted by danger and sex, he is introduced in the courtroom as a shady character who leans toward sleaze, with a judge scolding him for his flimsy defense in a fraud charge, with a dubious client who miraculously avoids jail time, warned by the judge not to come back to his courtroom without “a better defense or a better class of client,” with Lowenstein congratulating him afterwards for effectively “using incompetence as a weapon.”  This sets the stage for the murky, rot-infested world he inhabits, a smart-ass with a cynical view about the way things work, a small-time character who has a way of getting away with things, like a grown-up frat boy who’s maintained his childish demeanor, as it’s always worked for him, but he’s purely minor leagues.   Meeting Matty Walker is a step into the big time, where the stakes are greater, and the crimes are much more ruthlessly ambitious, as the source of Edmund Walker’s wealth is an undisclosed secret, where his silent investment partners also have a way of getting what they want, willing to do whatever it takes (“Whatever is necessary”), no matter how devious or underhanded, with suggestions that shadowy, criminal-affiliated behavior is a routine part of their playbook.  For Racine to enter the lion’s lair, he would have to get mixed up in the nefarious business of foul play, and this is where Kathleen Turner does not disappoint, as she’s one of the great femme fatale characters of all time, where she skyrocketed to fame from a position of anonymity.  The murder actually occurs midway through the film, with a surprisingly long aftermath allowing Racine to get lost in a maze of narrative confusion, where that extended breadth allows for a slower pace with some astonishing revelations, as the noose around his neck slowly tightens, discovering he’s not the kind of man he thought he was, weak-willed, easily manipulated, and blinded by male delusion.  The first time seeing this film viewers will likely be gobsmacked by the finale, which completely subverts the film noir tradition, some of it due to the easing of censorship codes, with sexuality inherent to the genre, showing copious amounts of graphic sex that was not allowed in the 1940’s, while modern era neo-noirs can also play with different kinds of outcomes, as women are allowed to be as bold and as devious as men, offering an innovative use of plot twists, developing new realities with a greater sense of authenticity than was present in the 40’s.  This is a film that pays reverence to the film noir traditions, wearing its influences like a badge of honor, with Kasdan having done his homework, writing some exquisite dialogue, offering surprising twists, where it’s not by accident that it is still revered today.  These were also breakout performances by Ted Danson, but also Mickey Rourke, playing a savvy ex-con who happens to be an explosives expert, as their careers were jumpstarted by their work in this film.  Ironically, the film was actually shot during a rare cold spell during the winter in Lake Worth, Florida, where stagehands were actually wearing coats when this was being shot, using sprayed-on sweat to create the illusion of heat, which this film sells in every scene, becoming the predominate mood and backdrop for the moral abyss that swallows up these characters.  Turner’s smoldering performance lays the blueprint for Linda Fiorentino in THE LAST SEDUCTION (1994) and Jennifer Tilly in the lesbian noir mélange of Bound (1996), perhaps the last of the great erotic thrillers, though one might also include Diane Lane in Adrian Lyne’s UNFAITHFUL (2002), along with Meg Ryan and Jennifer Jason Leigh as sex-starved sisters in Jane Campion’s In the Cut (2003).

Who Killed Teddy Bear

WHO KILLED TEDDY BEAR                     B                   

USA  (94 mi)  1965  d:  Joseph Cates

Why with everybody else?  Why with every slob…and not with me?

—Lawrence Sherman (Sal Mineo)

A sleazy B-movie cult favorite and fetishistic voyeur’s delight from director Joseph Cates, father of actress Phoebe Cates, where you might expect to see flashers in raincoats in attendance, written by Arnold Drake who also wrote and produced THE FLESH EATERS (1964), yet it’s also an absurd cautionary tale dedicated to exposing a rising threat of pornography and all things sexually prurient, literally showcasing the Times Square porn shops, peep shows, and smut magazines in their heyday, where despite some excellent performances from cult stars Sal Mineo, Juliet Prowse, and Elaine Stritch, the exploitive tone veers so off the rails that the film was banned in the UK for being too luridly explicit, sending mixed messages about recognizing the warning signs, suggesting rock ‘n’ roll music is the devil’s work that may send you into a tailspin where you’ll burn in Hell.  What’s mystifyingly different about this film is just how hysterically exaggerated it becomes in misjudging reality, playing it completely straight, without the outrageous wit and sarcastic humor of Luis Buñuel in films like VIRIDIANA (1961) and Simon of the Desert (Simón del Desierto) (1965), both of which poked fun at religious hypocrisy and conventional society’s overreaction to Elvis, rock ‘n’ roll, and the wildly theatrical dance contortions on display in garish discotheques, suggesting one whiff of that and you’ll be drowning in sin.  Throughout this film it’s hard to tell just where most characters are coming from, as they all seem to suffer from some sort of character disorder.  At the center is Nora Dain (Juliet Prowse, never better, where it’s a shame she didn’t make more films), a confident, independent woman living on her own in Manhattan, who’s got the smarts to match her dazzling beauty, yet here she’s down-on-her-luck, working as a DJ playing dance records at a seedy midtown discotheque while in pursuit of a career as an actress.  The nightclub is owned by Marian, tough as nails Broadway legend Elaine Stritch, a lesbian with a special overprotective fondness for her girls, where one of the busboys waiting tables and serving drinks is Sal Mineo as Lawrence, a decade older than his Oscar nominated role as Plato in REBEL WITHOUT A CAUSE (1955), where at 27 his career was on what would be a decade-long, downward spiral, despite winning two Oscar nominations by the time he was 21, now typecast as a sex pervert, where it would be four years before he’d work again in the movies, instead working exclusively in theater and television.  Hollywood never knew what to do with Sal Mineo, as he didn’t look the part they envisioned for handsome, leading men in the 50’s and 60’s, and instead was always typecast as a psychologically troubled or disturbed youth, playing demented criminal lowlifes, like “the Switchblade Kid,” or some off-color, outcast character, a Mexican boy, a Sioux Indian, a radical Zionist, and even a chimpanzee, where it’s fair to say his typecasting all but ruined his career. 

An acknowledged bisexual during his lifetime, posthumously Sal Mineo has become something of a gay icon, a poster boy for gay beauty, with his exotic Sicilian looks, but in his lifetime, an era when Rock Hudson had to hide his homosexuality until his death bed, his openness about being gay curtailed his career, resulting in roles like this one, a deranged criminal, where he plays a disturbed psychopathic sexual predator, a stalker who anonymously calls Nora on the phone, with a lurid book entitled When She Was Bad sitting on the mantle, crawling into bed, wearing only his tighty-whities (a first in American cinema, as actors were previously required to wear boxer shorts), and masturbates suggestively while whispering sleazy trash to her, like “I just want to touch you…I’ll make you feel like a real woman…You and I will be on fire!”  At first she thinks he’s just a drunk who’s got the wrong number, but as calls persist, and she finds a decapitated teddy bear in her apartment, she enlists the aid of police Lieutenant Dave Madden, Jan Murray, an otherwise likable TV game show host who got his start as a Borscht Belt comedian, but here he’s a cynical, hard-nosed vice cop who’s seen it all, becoming an expert on “the sadomasochists, the voyeur masochists, the exhibitionists, the necrophiliacs,” where his mind is so immersed in gutter crime that at one point Nora believes he’s the perpetrator.  In fact, part of the strangeness of the film is that Nora feels personally insulted and threatened by the overly personalized acts of both Lt. Madden and Marian, who comforts her a bit too closely, apparently not wanting to let go, which just gives her the creeps, but she’s not the least bit threatened by Lawrence, and never reads the signs until it’s too late. In her haste to make a quick exit, Marian inadvertently leaves Nora’s apartment wearing her fur coat, quickly noticing she’s being tailed.  While earlier in the day we watched Nora walk through the crowded city streets outside her apartment, where the city was a bustle of activity, yet Marian, in a bizarre parallel, bolts for the nearest alleyway, where she finds herself cornered, only to be strangled by Lawrence in a case of mistaken identity, suffering a similar demise as Sal Mineo in real life, who at age 37 was fatally stabbed in an alley behind his Sunset Strip, West Hollywood apartment.  According to Elaine Stritch, Son of the 100 Best Movies You've Never Seen - Google Books Result, “I was a lesbian owner of a disco who fell in love with Juliet Prowse and got strangled on Ninety-third Street and East End Avenue with a silk stocking by Sal Mineo.  Now who’s not going to play that part?”

All kinds of shenanigans are going on in this film, where Lawrence has an incestually suggestive, overly chummy relationship with his brain-damaged, younger sister Edie, (Margot Bennett), seen falling down the stairs in an opening flashback sequence that rather cryptically leads to the title, startled and then terror-stricken at seeing him naked in bed having sex with an older woman, where in her fright to run away she trips down the stairs, causing permanent brain damage, also decapitating the head of her teddy bear.  Lawrence has felt guilty ever since, unable to have healthy relationships with women, instead spending his time on 42nd Street paging through titillating porn magazines with lurid titles such as Shame Mates and Dance-Hall Dykes, raunchy books featuring salacious material, including Naked Lunch, by William S. Burroughs, and visiting XXX movie theaters in Times Square, becoming obsessed with Nora, seemingly the perfect woman that Edie will never become, where he can see into Nora’s apartment with binoculars and constantly spies on her.  Lt. Madden is overprotective towards his own young daughter named Pam (Diane Moore), hiring a housekeeper to look after her while he’s at work, as his wife was murdered by a sexual psycho who chopped up the body afterwards, yet when he comes home, he plays back tape-recordings of other women who were stalked by predators, studying them for clues, completely oblivious to the fact that his daughter’s in the next room and can hear every word, not to mention he leaves smutty magazines around the house.  Shot by cinematographer Joseph C. Brun, who also shot the brilliant Robert Wise film noir Odds Against Tomorrow (1959), with assistant cinematographer Michael Chapman, by the way, who ten years later would help direct Martin Scorsese’s Taxi Driver (1976), resembling the stylistic virtuosity of the John Cassavetes classic Shadows (1959), especially the black and white, cinéma vérité look of the street scenes, offering a time capsule look of New York City.  After showing scenes of Lawrence shirtlessly working out in the gym, juxtaposed with Nora in skimpy swimming attire at the pool, WHO KILLED TEDDY BEAR (1965) Sal Mineo works out & swims in ... YouTube (4:24), the film does have a serious erotic obsession with the human anatomy, especially Sal Mineo and Juliet Prowse, though no explicit nudity.  While part of the camp style is watching the disco dancers do their thing, blacks and whites mixed together on the dance floor, gyrating to very cheesy music (they couldn’t afford real music, so they used fake rock ‘n’ roll songs composed by former Four Seasons backup singer Charlie Calello), the scene of the film takes place after hours, with Lawrence alone with Nora, who couldn’t be friendlier, showing him how to dance after he expresses a certain reservation, where the go-go dancing style at the time was representative of Shindig! (1964-66) or Hullabaloo (1965-66), where Nora is an absolute delight doing the Watusi, Who Killed Teddy Bear Dance Scene HQ - YouTube (2:21), so caught up in feeling good for a change that she doesn’t notice the sudden change in mood that comes over Lawrence, creating a lurid climax scene, where the psychological disorientation is vividly expressed in a room full of mirrors that recalls Orson Welles in THE LADY OF SHANGHAI (1947).  While it’s not just trashy fun, there are some poignant as well as bewildering moments, with plenty of documentary style realism in the street locations, along with a theme song sung over the opening and closing credits by Rita Dyson that captures the smoky eroticism of the film, WHO KILLED TEDDY BEAR (1965) Title song / opening ... - YouTube (2:34).