The Naked Kiss (1964)

Written and directed by Samuel Fuller

Samuel Fuller’s The Naked Kiss is a mercurial mix of moods and genres that combine to produce something of a David Lynch prototype. A sweet, almost saccharine piece of American apple pie wherein the sordid innards spill out once Fuller stabs a fork in it. 

There’s savagery, depravity, and cruel prejudices afoot, but also tenderness and the cutest musical number you’ll ever see. It happens 10 minutes after our heroine assaults a cathouse owner in brutal fashion. This is to say the vile and the wonderful combine here, and while there are definite rough edges to The Naked Kiss, there are also some inedible sequences, visceral and raw, magic and inspired, that cast a long shadow over the shortcomings. 

Constance Towers is Kelly, our heroine. She’s a sex worker who winds up in Small Town, USA and tries to break good, but finds it hard to do so. Close-minded locals and all that. Some people will judge you, even as they want you for the same reason they look down on you, Kelly finds out. The Naked Kiss is about the true character that hides beneath the layers we put on (or others put on for us), and while Fuller shows us that is a double-edged sword, the main emphasis is on Kelly, and how she tries to convince the world that past mistakes do not define her.

A character will later say about Kelly that “she doesn’t make change,” and neither does Towers, who delivers an egoless performance. In anger, her eyes damn near roll out their sockets, pushed to the edge by how her face contorts in fury. Like The Naked Kiss in general, Towers’ performance has its kinks, and the excitement becomes a little too much at times, but it’s refreshing to see someone really put their back into it. An opening scene where she says “goodbye” to her pimp is about as ferocious a fight as you’ll see, and it’s not the last of Kelly’s exploits. 

All of this is filmed in stark shadowplay in Stanley Cortez’ cinematography as if to emphasize the moral dichotomy small town virtues impose, as well as the hidden perversity that lurks on the edges of picket fence suburbia. It’s exquisite lightwork. 

The Naked Kiss is full of shock and surprise, if not in its subject matter, then in Fuller’s treatment thereof. He shifts gears with abandon, rocking through the intense thrill, the tenderly sweet, the horrifyingly unexpected, and the enigmatic, resulting in a movie that stands outside easy definition. Its offbeat cadence and content is what it’ll be remembered for, every unexpected flourish a joy.