"Kitten With a Whip": cat on a cool tin roof
KITTEN WITH A WHIP: CAT ON A COOL TIN ROOF
Essay/Review By Will Viharo
Poster by R. Black for Tease-o-Rama/Thrillville screening of "Kitten with a Whip," 2008
"Now cool it, you creep, and coexist!" pretentious beatnik Ron admonishes fellow college-aged delinquent Buck (Skip Ward) when he flips out during a "party" at the affluent San Diego home of prominent, pussy-whipped politician David Stratton (
The thin plot thread weaves through a melodramatic mosaic of mounting mayhem. The trio of teenaged/twentysomething trouble-makers drag poor dumb David from the safe sanctuary of San Diego down to the exotic, erotic environs of Mexico, making the reuse of Henry Mancini's famous Touch of Evil score all the more ironic. A-M's prematurely world weary, organically seductive Jody - jaw-dropping jailbait who comes off like a tigress-temptress compared with today's prefab/rehab sex kittens - makes mental mincemeat out of the morally conflicted (is there any other kind?) politician, full of sweaty self-righteousness, justifying his compliance as mature concern rather than raw fear. On the menu is a small slice of popcorn psychology sprinkled liberally with cheese, and it all goes down the palate nice 'n' easy, even if it makes your stomach a bit queasy. But the hedonistic hipster hijinks on delirious display in Kitten, both less lascivious and less loquacious than Stanley Kubrick's adaptation of
Lolita
(1962), aren't bogged down with heavy sociological baggage, despite Jody's references to incestuous rape supposedly contributing to her amoral attitudes towards life and the world generally. This flick was sold and excels mostly as a salacious tale of forbidden lust not quite satiated, only teased to taunt the titillated audience into dropping their cash at the box office. Kitten was a big studio B flick (Universal), so obviously it was deemed more "sophisticated" and "respectable" than the lowbrow These themes still resonate within our contemporary culture, as current headlines commonly sell cyber-ads with torrid true tales of hypocritical, self-humiliating politicos, celebrated for publicly espousing "family values," being professionally destroyed by their own private dalliances with debauchery (John Ensign, John Edwards, Arnold Schwarzenegger and "Weinergate" being just a few recent examples). What makes Kitten such a kick in the crotch is its mid-century milieu, from the cars to the furniture to the fashions, everybody all dressed up with no place to come. Repression is a common source of rage and regret in many classic noir films, which also relate recognizable tales of self-destruction, but with superior sartorial style. These seemingly superficial features seduce modern audiences into popping these increasingly ancient time capsules like Xanax, both relaxing us with foreknowledge of our collective past while helping us to escape our aesthetically bankrupt present.
Ultimately, Kitten is all fluff with little bite, purring when it should be snarling, pawing when it should be clawing, barely scratching the surface of the deeply conflicted mores it portends to expose and exploit.
The Swinger
(1966), a colorful comedy starring A-M as a journalist reporting on the Sexual Revolution for a girlie mag, at least features one of her most infamous scenes of sensuality as she rolls around semi-nude on a canvas of psychedelic paints.
Carnal Knowledge
(1971), boasting A-M's single celluloid appearance topless, was a much more honest exploration of our national orgiastic obsessions during those tumultuous times. Still, Ann-Margret's performance in Kitten, one of her most popular roles, and justifiably so, is so sultry, sassy and smart that you'll hardly notice its flirtatious flimsiness, or care if you do. Sex still sells those damaged goods, suckers. Originally published in altered form, with editorial revisions and rewrites beyond my consent, in Noir City.
Essay/Review By Will Viharo
Poster by R. Black for Tease-o-Rama/Thrillville screening of "Kitten with a Whip," 2008
"Now cool it, you creep, and coexist!" pretentious beatnik Ron admonishes fellow college-aged delinquent Buck (Skip Ward) when he flips out during a "party" at the affluent San Diego home of prominent, pussy-whipped politician David Stratton (
The thin plot thread weaves through a melodramatic mosaic of mounting mayhem. The trio of teenaged/twentysomething trouble-makers drag poor dumb David from the safe sanctuary of San Diego down to the exotic, erotic environs of Mexico, making the reuse of Henry Mancini's famous Touch of Evil score all the more ironic. A-M's prematurely world weary, organically seductive Jody - jaw-dropping jailbait who comes off like a tigress-temptress compared with today's prefab/rehab sex kittens - makes mental mincemeat out of the morally conflicted (is there any other kind?) politician, full of sweaty self-righteousness, justifying his compliance as mature concern rather than raw fear. On the menu is a small slice of popcorn psychology sprinkled liberally with cheese, and it all goes down the palate nice 'n' easy, even if it makes your stomach a bit queasy. But the hedonistic hipster hijinks on delirious display in Kitten, both less lascivious and less loquacious than Stanley Kubrick's adaptation of
Lolita
(1962), aren't bogged down with heavy sociological baggage, despite Jody's references to incestuous rape supposedly contributing to her amoral attitudes towards life and the world generally. This flick was sold and excels mostly as a salacious tale of forbidden lust not quite satiated, only teased to taunt the titillated audience into dropping their cash at the box office. Kitten was a big studio B flick (Universal), so obviously it was deemed more "sophisticated" and "respectable" than the lowbrow These themes still resonate within our contemporary culture, as current headlines commonly sell cyber-ads with torrid true tales of hypocritical, self-humiliating politicos, celebrated for publicly espousing "family values," being professionally destroyed by their own private dalliances with debauchery (John Ensign, John Edwards, Arnold Schwarzenegger and "Weinergate" being just a few recent examples). What makes Kitten such a kick in the crotch is its mid-century milieu, from the cars to the furniture to the fashions, everybody all dressed up with no place to come. Repression is a common source of rage and regret in many classic noir films, which also relate recognizable tales of self-destruction, but with superior sartorial style. These seemingly superficial features seduce modern audiences into popping these increasingly ancient time capsules like Xanax, both relaxing us with foreknowledge of our collective past while helping us to escape our aesthetically bankrupt present.
Ultimately, Kitten is all fluff with little bite, purring when it should be snarling, pawing when it should be clawing, barely scratching the surface of the deeply conflicted mores it portends to expose and exploit.
The Swinger
(1966), a colorful comedy starring A-M as a journalist reporting on the Sexual Revolution for a girlie mag, at least features one of her most infamous scenes of sensuality as she rolls around semi-nude on a canvas of psychedelic paints.
Carnal Knowledge
(1971), boasting A-M's single celluloid appearance topless, was a much more honest exploration of our national orgiastic obsessions during those tumultuous times. Still, Ann-Margret's performance in Kitten, one of her most popular roles, and justifiably so, is so sultry, sassy and smart that you'll hardly notice its flirtatious flimsiness, or care if you do. Sex still sells those damaged goods, suckers. Originally published in altered form, with editorial revisions and rewrites beyond my consent, in Noir City.
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