There’s nothing harder to watch than an unfunny comedy, and for me personally, a bad farce is the worst kind. Although it’s not a detestable movie in any obvious way, I really hate “Kiss Me, Stupid” (1964), Billy Wilder’s last sex comedy from the era of the Hays Code (1930-68), which rendered sex comedies sexless and unfunny.
Nothing is surprising
I like some 2-minute farces, and I admit that for me to enjoy a 2-hour brainless farce it has to be elite, such as Wilder’s “Some Like It Hot” (1959). But “Kiss Me, Stupid” is rough due to its predictability. Wilder is famous for his last lines, and it struck me that he puts this one directly in the title! So much for the joy of the surprise.
Moments in between do not keep us off balance either, even though the premise is zany. Orville (Ray Walston) wants to sell his songs to Dean Martin (himself) – who breaks down in Climax (tee-hee), Nevada – and he knows Dino can be plied with the fairer sex. So he drives wife Zelda (Felicia Farr) out of the house and replaces her with Belly Button waitress Polly the Pistol (Kim Novak), loosely aiming to trade time with his “wife” for song sales.
“Kiss Me, Stupid” (1964)
Director: Billy Wilder
Writers: Billy Wilder, I.A.L. Diamond (screenplay); Anna Bonacci (play)
Stars: Dean Martin, Kim Novak, Ray Walston
Each chunk of story is obvious, though, even with zany add-ons to the initial premise, such as Zelda experiencing Polly’s world of free love even as Polly experiences the comfort of married life. “Kiss Me, Stupid’s” socio-moral position is knotty, as it seems to approve of both Zelda’s and Polly’s lifestyles to a point, but makes a final statement that a woman must settle down with a good man to have a complete life.
The film also comes down in favor of sabotaging a star’s car in order to work a con to get him to buy your music. Also, it doesn’t make sense that 1964 is a hot sales environment, as the script itself admits that Dino is over the hill and the Beatles are the new kings. Sure, in a farce, it doesn’t matter. None of this matters. But still.
I should mention that the songs, written by Ira and George Gershwin, are good – exactly what you’d expect of Fifties music halls, with lines like “Listen to me, Sophia/Have you any idea/How much you mean to me-a?”
The kiss-off
The actors generally aren’t bad. I could quibble with Novak doing a husky Marilyn Monroe impression, and sneeze at Wilder’s and I.A.L. Diamond’s decision to blame it on Polly’s cold. That’s a little gross, considering all the ways Orville and Dino can catch Polly’s cold as the narrative continues, including Dino drinking wine from her shoe(!). I was thinking of the (much funnier) “Friends” episode where Monica’s cold renders her unsexy.
Walston, like Tom Ewell in “The Seven Year Itch” (1955), is fine but he’s not Jim Carrey. Cliff Osmond, in what would later be a John Belushi type of sidekick role, is fine. Farr is fine with her Sixties loyal-wife appeal. On the whole, I don’t think different actors could’ve elevated this material much.
Each beat is executed well enough; if this were a community theater production, I’d applaud because of that. But it’s so obvious where each comedic beat is headed. The pin-setting is flawless, but bowling is just a game of knocking down pins, and we expect the pros to knock down the majority of them. There’s a reason why bowling’s TV ratings are lower than those of baseball or tennis.
I was surprised by how mediocre “Seven Year Itch” is, and “Love in the Afternoon” (1957) and “The Fortune Cookie” (1966) are also rough. But I can’t say I knew precisely where those plots were headed. I wouldn’t want to watch any of them again, but “Kiss Me, Stupid” is an even stupider way to waste time.
Wilder Wednesdays looks at the catalog of legendary writer-director Billy Wilder.