La rue chaude

In 1930s New Orleans Texan Laurence Harvey (!!) finds one time lover Capucine (!!!) working in a bordello. He wants to take her away, but the bordello's lesbian madam, Barbara Stanwyck wants Capucine for herself. Then there's Jane Fonda as a real wild girl...

Film starts off with a great title sequence that perfectly sets the tone of the film--loud, brassy and dirty. This was probably considered pretty controversial it its time (in fact it's never made totally clear than Stanwyck is a lesbian, but there are hints all over the place), but it's a camp classic now. It's sleazy but lots on fun with tons of campy dialogue to spare. Apparantely this film had a very whimsical casting director--Harvey (an English actor) and Capucine (a French actress) play Texans and Anne Baxter (in a black fright wig) is a Mexican!

The acting varies--Harvey is just OK with a credible Texas accent; Fonda is really great projecting raw sexuality; Capucine is beautiful but wooden; Stanwyck chews the scenery in a very amusing way and Baxter turns in a very moving and great performance.

Lots of fun with the right crowd--I saw it years ago with a gay and lesbian crowd and we laughed all the way through it!

This film is strangely reminiscent of Pre-Code Barbara Stanwyck pictures like 'Baby Face' or 'Women They Talk About.' But, what makes the film so much fun is its marvelously fractured casting. It's rumored that the film owes its existence to Capucine. Charles Feldman, the talent agent, mounted the production to showcase his protégée and (some say) girlfriend. She's quite a beauty, but what makes her performance so remarkable is that she's totally oblivious to the fact that she doesn't belong in this film.

Laurence Harvey has the Southern accent down. And, as for Jane Fonda, this was the one break in her endless string of coy sex kitten roles from the sixties where she proves she can act. Some say she overdoes it, but I think she provides the real spice in this film.

In the midst of this batch of newcomers hobbled together from around the world (although they're all playing indigenous Southerners) are two pros trained in the old Hollywood studios. This is hardly a high point for Barbara Stanwyck. But, she proves that you can put her down anywhere - in a screwball comedy, a tearjerker, a hard-boiled film noir, or a TV western - and she can hold her own.

Anne Baxter acquits herself well in the thankless task of playing a humble Mexican. Probably less well known for her accomplishments than Stanwyck, she won an Oscar for playing one of the greatest dramatic arcs given to an actress in the forties in "The Razor's Edge." These two pros give some dignity to a film that easily could have degenerated in to laughable kitsch.

This film is notorious for its overt portrayal of a lesbian character. But, it actually has a more interesting gay connection. Fonda, against the prohibition of director Edward Dymyrik, was secretly being coached in her dressing room by her 'secretary' and live-in boyfriend Andreas Voutsinas. Six years later, he would set a new benchmark for outrageous mincing queens as Carmen Ghia in Mel Brooks' "The Producers."

This sleazy bit of melodrama, loosely based on a racy Nelson Algren book, is now dated kitsch; but can be enjoyed for what it is, thanks to the Hollywood team that put it all together. It's trashy intentions and heavyhanded delivery work in it's favor nowadays, so the brilliant Columbia DVD transfer is well worth checking out. The highlight of the movie is the Elmer Bernstein score; a masterwork with a life all it's own. The cast is a hoot: Barbara Stanwyck standing out as a lesbian brothel owner, a stiff dyke, hardly correct as a New Orleans Madame; Jane Fonda is a pouty, sultry slut, overdoing her overaged, nubile nymphette act; Laurence Harvey stretches all credibility as the good-boy Texas heartthrob searching for his lost love; an utterly miscast Capucine, playing an artsy, elegant whore-with-a-heart-of-gold; and Anne Baxter is quite humorous as a Mexican cafe owner. It's hard not to enjoy a movie with lead characters whose names are Dove and Kitty Twist, and a title song performed by Brook Benton with lyrics like: "Chances of goin' to Heaven, 6 to 1!".

This film has a dynamite opening. A real life black cat prowls around a maze of pipes and fences, as Elmer Bernstein's jazzy musical score blares out the film's title song, a haunting invocation to low life everywhere.

Throughout, both the music and the B&W cinematography evoke a noirish, downbeat mood totally in sync with the film's theme of embittered sleaze. Although set in the 1930's, the film looks and sounds more like something from the hip, "beat" generation of the 1950's. And I'm comfortable with that.

What I'm not comfortable with is the casting and the screenplay. Lithuanian born Laurence Harvey is totally not convincing as a Texas tramp. French born Capucine, looking like she just walked in from the set of "La Dolce Vita", seems lost in the role of a Southern belle. A somewhat inexperienced Jane Fonda overacts the role of Kitty Twist. And American Anne Baxter, looking more like Suzanne Pleshette than Anne Baxter, plays a Mexican senorita, with the help of a big wig. Among the major roles, the only credible cast member is Barbara Stanwyck, as the bossy owner of the Doll House, your typical red light house of prostitution.

The film's red light title is a big tease. It advertises brothel life, but the screenplay delivers only boredom and preachy morality. But in 1962 the moralistic Hays Code still exerted influence on what Hollywood could say and show. The result here is a yellow light plot that merely hints at sleaze.

Forty years after its release, "Walk On The Wild Side" does have entertainment value, both as a curious period piece, and as a sudsy soap opera with some campy dialogue, helped along by the always engaging Barbara Stanwyck.

Savaged by the critics, (except perhaps for the over-praised Saul Bass designed credit sequence of a prowling cat), Edward Dmytryk's film version of Nelson Algren's 'scandalous' novel "Walk on the Wild Side" isn't nearly as bad as its reputation suggests. It's certainly unevenly acted, (a miscast Laurence Harvey is terrible and perhaps surprisingly Jane Fonda isn't much better but Barbara Stanwyck is terrific as a very butch lesbian madame and Capucine is surprisingly good as the object of both Harvey and Stanwyck's affection), and naturally it fudges the central issues of prostitution and lesbianism but it's very well shot by Joe MacDonald, beautifully designed and the screenplay by John Fante and Edmund Morris does manage to keep some of Algren's original poetry. Dmytryk was always a better director than critics gave him credit for and if he was often constrained by the studio system he was no slouch either. If this isn't the best film he ever made it still has much to recommend it.