Even before you see his face, you can feel the sensuality of Sal Mineo thrusting its way off the screen, wearing nothing but tighty whities as he makes several obscene phone calls at 6 O'clock in the morning. He's only fondling his legs, but the point is made. When you finally see Sal's gorgeous face, he's inside a really swinging nightclub where the customers are rude, crude, long to be nude, and using food to get the girls in the mood. Mineo works busing tables and takes over waiting them when the servers don't show up.
"If you're going make it in show biz, you're going to meet some pretty weird types. Of course, that is assuming that you're planning on making it on your feet, so to speak!" That's how you're introduced here to the legendary "Ladies Who Lunch" diva Elaine Stritch, playing an extremely glamorous lesbian who has the hots for D.J. Juliet Prowse. Tough but with a sense of compassion to the underdog, Stritch has a drunk customer kicked out and stands up for one of her deaf employees when the customer attacks him. She reminds me a great deal of Grayson Hall's character in the cult movie "Satan in High Heels", although this was obviously made on a bit of a higher budget even if it's still down the scale on its vision of a lack of polite society.
As for Mineo, don't let his polite on the surface nature fool you; He disguises his voice on the phone as you see only his bare chest and the tip of his jockeys, and this is where the perversion takes on a sexual film noir story, pre-dating "Basic Instinct" and "Fatal Attraction" by more than two decades. This is the village, and it is not a polite society. The film turns dirt into art, and it is absolutely fascinating to watch, even though you are praying that circumstances like this never happen to you. But when you work in the bar world of a big metropolis, you never know what type of sociopath is going to come in. Even the police detective interviewing Prowse after she is harassed on the phone has a very verbal way of describing the types of characters he has come in contact with. Don't click your heels together to hope to go back to Kansas; Once you're in the land of Odd, you're stuck there.
A jazzy music score aids in the vision of New York's dark side, and there's no turning back when you stay out past happy hour. Nights in New York always bring film noir to life, whether it's on screen or in reality. I have been searching for this dark and disturbing film ever since I became fans of both Mineo's and Stritch's, and in biographies on Mineo's life, Ms. Stritch went into great detail in her remembrances of him as a man and as an actor. Jan Murray is fantastic as the police detective overshadowed by the grittiness in his life, yet still leading the life of perfect father. A lot of detail went into the creation of each of these characters, and every moment is fascinating. Every character (including Murray) has their own elements of darkness, showing the inner anxieties we all carry and which can explode at any minute.
The teddy bear reference is an interesting metaphor both psychologically and visually, and in spite of the tacky nature of the theme, it is sensationalism that titillates no matter how much the viewer tries not to admit it. As Jean Simmons' missionary said in "Guys and Dolls", she's supposedly afraid of sin, so naturally, she's attracted to it. But these aren't the friendly colorful gamblers of Damon Runyeon's New York. This is a John Cassavettes/John Waters view of a changing society, filled with a gritty ugliness that the early film noir only dared to touch on.
"If you're going make it in show biz, you're going to meet some pretty weird types. Of course, that is assuming that you're planning on making it on your feet, so to speak!" That's how you're introduced here to the legendary "Ladies Who Lunch" diva Elaine Stritch, playing an extremely glamorous lesbian who has the hots for D.J. Juliet Prowse. Tough but with a sense of compassion to the underdog, Stritch has a drunk customer kicked out and stands up for one of her deaf employees when the customer attacks him. She reminds me a great deal of Grayson Hall's character in the cult movie "Satan in High Heels", although this was obviously made on a bit of a higher budget even if it's still down the scale on its vision of a lack of polite society.
As for Mineo, don't let his polite on the surface nature fool you; He disguises his voice on the phone as you see only his bare chest and the tip of his jockeys, and this is where the perversion takes on a sexual film noir story, pre-dating "Basic Instinct" and "Fatal Attraction" by more than two decades. This is the village, and it is not a polite society. The film turns dirt into art, and it is absolutely fascinating to watch, even though you are praying that circumstances like this never happen to you. But when you work in the bar world of a big metropolis, you never know what type of sociopath is going to come in. Even the police detective interviewing Prowse after she is harassed on the phone has a very verbal way of describing the types of characters he has come in contact with. Don't click your heels together to hope to go back to Kansas; Once you're in the land of Odd, you're stuck there.
A jazzy music score aids in the vision of New York's dark side, and there's no turning back when you stay out past happy hour. Nights in New York always bring film noir to life, whether it's on screen or in reality. I have been searching for this dark and disturbing film ever since I became fans of both Mineo's and Stritch's, and in biographies on Mineo's life, Ms. Stritch went into great detail in her remembrances of him as a man and as an actor. Jan Murray is fantastic as the police detective overshadowed by the grittiness in his life, yet still leading the life of perfect father. A lot of detail went into the creation of each of these characters, and every moment is fascinating. Every character (including Murray) has their own elements of darkness, showing the inner anxieties we all carry and which can explode at any minute.
The teddy bear reference is an interesting metaphor both psychologically and visually, and in spite of the tacky nature of the theme, it is sensationalism that titillates no matter how much the viewer tries not to admit it. As Jean Simmons' missionary said in "Guys and Dolls", she's supposedly afraid of sin, so naturally, she's attracted to it. But these aren't the friendly colorful gamblers of Damon Runyeon's New York. This is a John Cassavettes/John Waters view of a changing society, filled with a gritty ugliness that the early film noir only dared to touch on.