Kiss Me A Killer
The Postman Rings a Third Time
A drifter arrives at an establishment, looking for a job and then falls for the lady of the house. He falls so hard that he helps her murder her husband. Somehow, the two perpetrators evade justice, until the very end, when a rough sort of justice is done. So goes the premise of The Postman Always Rings Twice, the direct predecessor of Kiss Me A Killer. It is a tried and true premise that did well in its two outings in the films of the same name. Unfortunately, KMAK fails to live up to its distinguished heritage, for a multitude of reasons.
The Postman Always Rings Twice first appeared in 1946 and starred John Garfield and Lana Turner as the adulterous lovers. Times being what they were, the steamy stuff was left out and we are instead treated to Lana’s perpetually platinum waves, complete with pouty looks. John Garfield’s Frank is a casual drifter, whose “itchy feet” take him many places. When he arrives at Twin Oaks, he finds Cora (Lana) too bewitching to leave. This movie tends to be a bit slow given that explicit sexuality was a no-no at the time. So we spend most of the time learning what makes these two tick, and watching Cora’s kind yet befuddled husband drink himself into a stupor on a regular basis. Cora wants more out of life than a loveless marriage and Frank seems to be the one to give it to her. With her husband out of the way, happiness still eludes the lovers as they fight through the brief court case, then outwit a blackmailer. Justice is not to be denied though, and it is Cora whose life comes to an abrupt end, just as happiness seems within her, and Frank’s grasp. This version is considered a film noir classic.
When Jack Nicholson and Jessica Lange took on the roles of Frank and Cora it was 1981 and Postman seethed with a sexuality that was breathtaking at the time. Our initial encounter with Frank sets him up as a scumbag, and Cora comes across as a bored housewife whose Greek husband is a drunken, clumsy lover that she despises. The first encounter between Frank and Cora begins as a sexual assault that suddenly changes as Cora finds herself responding erotically to Frank’s aggressiveness. How many husbands wish that their wives would clear the table with a wave of their arms, unconcerned about falling crockery or food, then turn to them with smoldering eyes and say “COME ON!” in the most demanding of tones? Throughout this version we are confronted with two volcanic individuals, who slowly come to respect each other and appreciate each other beyond the obvious sexual appeal. But once again happiness is to be denied as Cora loses her life in an unexpected accident.
Ten years later KMAK appears, a clear knockoff of the Postman movies. It is set in contemporary East Los Angeles, whereas the Postman movies took place along highways leading to a post WWII Los Angeles. The difference in time and space also required a difference in culture, and so Cora becomes Teresa, Frank becomes Tony, and Twin Oaks becomes an East LA club. What stays the same; Tony is a drifter (actually a released convict), and Jake the husband has rescued Teresa (as Cora was rescued) from what he believes would have been an unhappy fate. The lovers must kill the husband, evade capture and a blackmailer, and then find happiness eluding them as death (the Postman) claims one of the pair.
KMAK tries hard to live up to its lineage, but doesn’t quite make it. Whereas the Postman movies had very few characters to deal with outside of the main trio, and those characters had a purpose, KMAK is alive with people who add nothing to the movie. Their presence may actually be a distraction as the focus on the two lovers shifts in and out. Julie Carmen (Teresa) lacks Lana Turner’s sultry, pouty appearance, and never evokes Jessica Lange’s woman-in-heat intensity. Robert Beltran (Tony), who attempts to be tough in the beginning, cannot match Nicholson’s aggressiveness, nor Garfield’s obvious infatuation.
The sex scenes are tasteful, erotic in a limited way, and evoke a sense of desire, but the heat is missing, even during the most intense scene in the bar. This is probably the movie’s chief failure since the Postman movies revolved around the physical relationship that matures into love. In fact it is that first sexual encounter that sets the tone for the rest of the movie and in this respect KMAK pulls its punches in a way that the 1981 Postman never did. The raw sexuality in the 1981 Postman is nowhere to be found in KMAK, and neither is the sexual teasing of the 1946 classic. KMAK tries to walk down a middle road and build up the intensity over time, especially in the church scene, but it just doesn’t work. The viewer is left waiting for an emotional payoff that never materializes. Instead, the movie relies on the soundtrack to evoke its moods. In fact the soundtrack may be the best thing about the movie, which is unfortunate since Robert Beltran and Julie Carmen are clearly capable of more.
On top of that, the first attempt to murder Jake comes at the hands of others thanks to Tony’s connections. The lovers never agonize quite as much as Cora and Frank, who were direct participants, and the difference is obvious. There is no orchestrated betrayal, thus no opportunity for the two to come to grips with what they really mean to each other. Cora’s pregnancy is also missing, which was a key event in the Postman movies since it sealed the relationship. KMAK has nothing similar to offer the audience, aside from the beach scenes that are meant to convince us of the love between Tony and Teresa. The players may not be sleep walking through their roles, but one wonder what would have happened with a different director, or different screenplay, or even different actors.
KMAK seems unable to get out of first gear. It has a lot of wasted potential and the result is wasted effort by the performers, who are unable to retrieve this version of Postman from the dustbin of history.
A Comment on Robert Beltran’s Performance:
After watching the two versions of Postman followed by KMAK I find I have one question for Robert Beltran: What is the likelihood that you could replicate Nicholson’s performance in the 1981 version of Postman? Is the fact that you didn’t in KMAK reflective of personal preferences, or did the director simply fail to capitalize on opportunity? These are serious questions since the focus of the movies was always the adulterous lovers, and we must believe that they really want each other, whatever the motivation. Unfortunately, Robert’s performance in KMAK fails to evoke a sense of absolute desire based either on infatuation or sexual passion. The sex scenes are almost perfunctory, as if choreographed and done by the numbers. While it is a fact that Robert’s legions of fans find Tony to be exotic, erotic, and exhilarating, I suspect they would be less impressed with Tony if they had seen Nicholson’s performance. It can be argued that the 1981 Postman went over the top, but KMAK falls by the wayside, outstripped as well by the 1946 version that spent its time watching the lovers work out their relationship. All things considered, I do not view this as one of Robert’s finer performances (he is free to disagree of course although I would hope he’d say why). One thing he does very well in the movie is sing. At the Galaxy Balls 1999-2001 I heard Robert sing, but it didn’t come across with as much passion as it does in KMAK. I suspect that he could have a whole new career as a vocalist if he chose to.