Dressed to Kill ★★★½
DIRECTED by Brian De Palma. If you see those words on screen, you’re in for something a little different.
The American hasn’t made a film since 2012, but prior to that he gave us some of the best examples of genre pictures in modern cinema.
Among his best are Carlito’s Way (crime), Mission Impossible (action), The Untouchables (adventure), Casualties of War (war, no kidding), Scarface (crime), Blow Out (thriller) and Carrie (horror).
The best thing about all these films is the style that De Palma brings to them, adding so many interesting narrative devices and visual flourishes.
Among his favourites are split screen and long periods where there is no dialogue and the action takes over the story-telling. The best examples are the final chaos at the prom in Carrie and the raid on Langley in the original Mission Impossible film.
De Palma is a devotee of classic film suspense and in the 1980s made two homages to the master, Alfred Hitchcock – Dressed to Kill in 1980 and Body Double a few years later,.
In its time, Dressed to Kill received mixed reviews, due mainly to factors aside from the quality of the film-making, namely De Palma’s penchant for full frontal female nudity, the luridness of the material and the staginess of some sequences.
Watching it again now, the film is dated and appears awkward in its overall approach, the product of De Palma’s attempt at the time to blend classic film-making with modern themes; but there is still no doubting the visual flair and technical skill displayed
De Palma puts his personal stamp on the film immediately with an opening slow tracking shot through a steamy bathroom to settle on the naked body of his female protagonist in the shower.
She is played by Angie Dickinson who had achieved success on television in the 70s as the star of Police Woman, possibly the first prime-time series to feature, well, a female cop as its central character.
If you are happy to watch the film at this point, then read no further because spoliers ensue. I try to avoid them as a rule, but when a film is 37 years-old and the twist comes one-third of the way into the running time, I think it;s fair game.
So, Dickinson’s character is in a relationship that she does not find sexually fulfilling in any way and confides in her psychiatrist, played by Michael Caine.
Next we get another wonderful De Palma flourish with 20 minutes with barely a line or two of dialogue as she flirts with a stranger at a museum and ends up in bed with him at an apartment building.
This is where the homage to Hitchock’s Psycho kicks in as Dickinson’s character is suddenly and viciously hacked to death in an elevator by a woman wielding a cut-throat razor. The attacker is glimpsed by a prostitute, played by De Palma favourite Nancy Allen.
The prostitute then becomes the subject of our concentration and sympathies as she is stalked by the killer who is concerned she can identity her.
There are more twists to come annd a final reveal that it’s difficult to tell will still hold water for people watching for the first time.
Also among the cast is Dennis Franz playing the archetypal New York cop that he went on to perfect in the television series NYPD Blue.
A strange, uneven and dated film for sure, but still enjoyable viewing.