Every movie is someone’s favorite movie, or so it’s been said. What, one wonders, is Quentin Tarantino’s favorite? Anyone who has heard him speak in a public forum or on a podcast knows that Mr. Tarantino has seen a daunting number of pictures and has an almost encyclopedic knowledge of his chosen medium. “Winter Kills” (1979) must be high up in the pantheon, as Mr. Tarantino is the sponsor of its re-release as a newly minted 35mm print. It will be playing for two weeks at Film Forum beginning on August 11.
Anyone who has seen even a few of Mr. Tarantino’s films will recognize “Winter Kills” as being in his wheelhouse. First, there’s that distinct vintage — that would be the 1970s, an era in which a promiscuous commingling of artistic expansiveness and shameless exploitation is a trademark. It’s also a genre movie that proves somewhat slippery upon description. Is it a black comedy or a political thriller? There’s a cast studded with stars, not a few of whom reiterate roles or types for which they were renowned. “Winter Kills” is, in that regard, an insider’s game.
Then there’s the messy story of its making. Producers Robert Sterling and Leonard J. Goldberg allegedly made their fortune selling marijuana and dabbled in producing soft-core pornography. “Winter Kills” was their attempt at a mainstream blockbuster. It had barely been released when Goldberg was found dead in his New York City apartment, handcuffed and shot in the head. Three years later, Sterling was sentenced to 40 years in prison for drug smuggling. That this was a troubled production is putting it politely.
Sterling and Goldberg set their budget high and came up short. According to some reports, “Winter Kills” raised about a third of its stated $6.5 million budget. Director William Richert and leading man Jeff Bridges ultimately used funds from another project to make up the difference. That effort took two years and, one assumes, caused myriad headaches. When the film was finally released, the picture garnered a smattering of critical praise and was then summarily dumped by its distributor. The reason? The Kennedys.
Well, not really, but conspiracy is at the center of “Winter Kills.” The picture is based on the book of the same name by Richard Condon, the author of, among much else, “Prizzi’s Honor” and “The Manchurian Candidate.” Both novels were made into films, with the latter proving particularly resonant in its air of Cold War unease. “Winter Kills,” the movie, is nowhere near as good as John Frankenheimer’s 1962 adaptation of “The Manchurian Candidate,” but it is, with tongue more blatantly pointed in cheek, in the same ballpark.
Mr. Bridges plays Jeff, the wayward son of “Pa” (a scene-chewing John Huston), an unapologetic oligarch with his hands in a little bit of everything. Jeff is also half-brother to President Timothy Kegan. We never see the president because he was assassinated 19 years prior to the beginning of our story. The murderer was a lone gunman who was later killed by a nightclub owner. Sounds familiar?
The killing of the president, in this telling, took place at Philadelphia, to which Jeff travels after hearing the confession of a dying man who claims that he was the assassin. The gun, Jeff is told, can be found at a wig maker’s shop downtown. All sorts of skullduggery commences and not a few blind alleys are traversed, some more entertaining than others.
Was this sardonic take on the arrogance of capital and the malleability of political institutions too much, too soon for an America reeling from Vietnam and Watergate? Maybe, or perhaps audiences found its cynicism too self-congratulatory. Whatever the case, “Winter Kills” is amusing — less for its satire (which is leaden) than its silliness (of which there isn’t enough). Elizabeth Taylor, looking gorgeous, makes an uncredited cameo. Elsewhere, you’ll find a wasted Toshiro Mifune, an unrecognizable Ralph Meeker, and an Anthony Perkins looking more gangly than usual.
Who should see “Winter Kills?” Fans of “Succession” might want to take a chance, as it treads similar ground. Fans of Mr. Bridges should know that he acquits himself honorably, but, then, he usually does. Fans of biting sociological insight will enjoy it — that is, if they lower their standards. Fans of Mr. Tarantino will have a general idea what they’re in for, and will consider their entertainment expenditure well invested should they choose to do so.
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