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Upon the passing of Alfred Hitchcock, obituaries raised the question of why Hitchcock had created such a distinct and unparalleled style but never seemed to have impacted any young filmmakers. There was always the exception of Brian DePalma who, for his part, clearly set out to exploit the dominion of Hitchcock and made this highly fashionable, fascinating, and extremely brutal thriller that look is rather suggestive of his name.
The advertisements for DePalma’s “Dressed to Kill” refer to him as “the master of the macabre” which is, I suppose, equally inappropriate as advertisements that called Hitchcock “the master of suspense” DePalma may not be a primary figure in Master of Hollywood, but he has claimed the right to comparison, particularly after “Sisters” and “Obsession II” both of which are so deliberately and self-consciously De Palma. His works use the same footage that fascinated Hitchcock: clearly defined camera movements, carefully chosen images, characters who are types rather than people, violence breaking in the most simple scenes.
He shares Alfred Hitchcock’s fascination with the unexpected twists of a plot and the first and best part of “Dressed to Kill” comes from the shocks bestoyed upon us. While other key characters are presented, one of the major early ones is Kate Miller, an attractive forty something Manhattan woman, suffering from a severe case of unfulfilled lust. DePalma begins with a shocking shower scene (a shoutout to Hitch) where we then follow the woman as her sexual fantasies start coming true over lunch at a museum.
The museum sequence is exceptional. Watch Dickinson as she spots a tall, dark, and handsome mysterious stranger. Their eyes meet; she looks away, decides to provoke the handsome stranger by dropping her glove, goes unnoticed, and he begins following her. To her, and our, astonishment, this brilliant scene without dialogue finishes in a steamy sexual rendezvous in the back of the cab.
Later, she finds herself in the strange man’s apartment where DePalma begins to work on her, and us, by revealing several surprises that provoke feelings of guilt and embarrassment: What would you as a cheating wife do if you came to this stranger’s apartment and found that you had forgotten your wedding ring. The story now shifts in few directions that are completely different from what has been narrated earlier, and I for one would never want to give them away. In fact, until this point, I will keep vague about the details of the plot, because from now on surprises become a part of his effect which is quintessential to his craft.
And then there is Keith Gordon, who plays Caine’s character’s psychiatrist’s other two patients. There’s also Nancy Allen as a not-so-bright but ever-so-loveable hooker from New York who with all her innocence stumbles upon a corpse and gets embroiled in the murder mystery. He is one of those teenage DNA prodigies and develops clever devices for solving the mystery of the murder.
Some might take issue with the mixture of plot elements in Dressed to Kill, particularly in the way it rationalizes a violent man’s actions by fusing transsexuality and schizophrenia together. But I don’t believe DePalma expects us to take his reasoning too seriously; the pseudo scientific language used to ‘explain’ the case is cringe-worthy and reminds me of the poor psychiatric justification at the end of Psycho, from which, as we know, DePalma has been quoting all along.
Dressed to Kill is a stylistic exercise, not a film; it would rather look and feel like a thriller rather than make sense. The film has parts which are so illogical that they defy reason; it comes to a near halt at one point in the latter portion and pulls the old cliché that it was just a dream. But he employs the conventions of the thriller so well that we happily excuse him and go along. The performances do have very nice touches, though:
Gordon’s wise guy kid, Allen’s street-wise nonchalance in life and death situations, Caine’s analytical detachment, Dickinson’s guilt-laden lust My, oh my, DePalma’s accepted the title of a master, all right… but Hitch remains the grand master.
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