Scrambling out of the surf on a beach, Virginia Wilson (Swedish sexpot Anita Ekberg of "War and Peace") climbs into an outdoor shower stall to rinse off the salt water as "Brass Legend" director Gerd Oswald's film noir thriller "Screaming Mini" unfolds. Suddenly, a maniac with a knife confronts our damsel after killing her dog. Before this lunatic from the nearby Highland Sanitarium can carve her up, Virginia's art sculptor stepbrother, Charlie Weston (Romney Brent of "The Fugitive") drops him with a single shot from his rifle. During this harrowing ordeal, our busty, blonde babe has been hysterically screaming her head off. The trauma she endures during this attack lands Virginia in the same loony bin which housed her assailant. Psychiatrist Dr. Greenwood (Harry Townes of "The Brothers Karamazov") supervises Virginia's recovery with a Svengali-like influence and ends up falling in love with her. Gradually, Virginia yearns for a normal life. Eventually, Greenwood spirits her away, and Virginia takes a job as an exotic dancer at a nightclub called El Madhouse. Appropriately enough, the notorious Gypsy Rose Lee of "Belle of the Yukon" plays Joann 'Gypsy' Masters, the dame who runs the joint. She christens Virginia as Yolanda Lange. Changing his name to Mr. Green, the psychiatrist serves as her manager. Everything appears to be going smoothly until our pneumatic bombshell is attacked while out walking her Great Dane named Devil on a dark, desolate rainswept street. An annoying newspaper reporter, Bill Sweeney (Phillip Carey of "The Springfield Rifle"), takes a shine to Virginia. Naturally, Mr. Green isn't happy about the relationship that develops between Virginia and the news hound. Literally, he is 'green' with jealousy.
Any film historian worth their salt will point out Oswald's film, released by Columbia Pictures in 1958, deserves a modicum of recognition since the attempted shower stabbing scene came two years before Alfred Hitchcock set Anthony Perkins on Janet Leigh in a hotel shower and sliced her to ribbons in one of the most chilling scenes in cinema. Mind you, Anita survives her assailant while Leigh wasn't so fortunate. Oswald stages the attack on Virginia with little of the scrupulous detail Hitchcock lavished on "Psycho." Comparably, "Screaming Mimi qualifies as a more conventional, B-movie suspense thriller that generates fewer shocking revelations than "Psycho." "Magnificent Obsession" scenarist Robert Blees adapted Fredric Brown's 1949 novel, which later inspired Dario Argento's "The Bird with the Crystal Plumage." The dialogue is brisk, and the relationship between Virginia and her enamored psychiatrist is bizarre. Harry Townes' performance is first-rate as a doctor who is wrapped tighter than a mummy. Philip Carey plays Sweeney with bluster. You may dismiss Ekberg's performance as superficial, but she performs a provocative dance number in bondage as she gyrates, wiggles, and squirms her curvaceous body. Ekberg makes it look sexy without sinking into sleaze. The Production Code notes must have been interesting!
Does anybody remember Gerd Oswald's films? During the 1950s, he helmed several entertaining films with second-string stars, before turning his directorial talents exclusively to prime-time television. Of course, "Screaming Mimi" is no "Psycho," more like a grade B exercise in spartan noir. Certainly, Townes' obsessive psychiatrist makes him a poster boy for film noir. "From Here to Eternity" lenser Burnett Guffey, who later photographed "Bonnie & Clyde," lights this black & white, psychological thriller with noir in mind. Look at the tell-tale lighting in the scenes between Ekberg and Townes. This cold relationship quivers with the extravagant irrational devotion that is a characteristic of film noir. Above all, "Screaming Mimi" has enough good moments, a sturdy cast, and solid writing. Like all noir movies, a statuette which addresses underlying fetishistic themes of the narrative is present. When Sweeney asks shop dealer Raoul Reynarde (Vaughn Taylor of "The Professionals") about the sculpture of a naked woman in turmoil that recurs throughout the film, Raoul notes the sculpture was originally marketed as simply SM1, and then somebody decided the acronym meant Screaming Mimi. When Sweeney interviews Virginia's half-brother, the sculptor tells the reporter that he created the sculpture based on the sight of his nude stepsister cringing in horror as she was attacked in the shower. There is some subtle lesbianism oozing in the scenes between Joanne and her delectable female roommate who pedals cigarettes at the El Madhouse. Altogether, while no masterpiece, "Screaming Mimi" shouldn't be forgotten.
Any film historian worth their salt will point out Oswald's film, released by Columbia Pictures in 1958, deserves a modicum of recognition since the attempted shower stabbing scene came two years before Alfred Hitchcock set Anthony Perkins on Janet Leigh in a hotel shower and sliced her to ribbons in one of the most chilling scenes in cinema. Mind you, Anita survives her assailant while Leigh wasn't so fortunate. Oswald stages the attack on Virginia with little of the scrupulous detail Hitchcock lavished on "Psycho." Comparably, "Screaming Mimi qualifies as a more conventional, B-movie suspense thriller that generates fewer shocking revelations than "Psycho." "Magnificent Obsession" scenarist Robert Blees adapted Fredric Brown's 1949 novel, which later inspired Dario Argento's "The Bird with the Crystal Plumage." The dialogue is brisk, and the relationship between Virginia and her enamored psychiatrist is bizarre. Harry Townes' performance is first-rate as a doctor who is wrapped tighter than a mummy. Philip Carey plays Sweeney with bluster. You may dismiss Ekberg's performance as superficial, but she performs a provocative dance number in bondage as she gyrates, wiggles, and squirms her curvaceous body. Ekberg makes it look sexy without sinking into sleaze. The Production Code notes must have been interesting!
Does anybody remember Gerd Oswald's films? During the 1950s, he helmed several entertaining films with second-string stars, before turning his directorial talents exclusively to prime-time television. Of course, "Screaming Mimi" is no "Psycho," more like a grade B exercise in spartan noir. Certainly, Townes' obsessive psychiatrist makes him a poster boy for film noir. "From Here to Eternity" lenser Burnett Guffey, who later photographed "Bonnie & Clyde," lights this black & white, psychological thriller with noir in mind. Look at the tell-tale lighting in the scenes between Ekberg and Townes. This cold relationship quivers with the extravagant irrational devotion that is a characteristic of film noir. Above all, "Screaming Mimi" has enough good moments, a sturdy cast, and solid writing. Like all noir movies, a statuette which addresses underlying fetishistic themes of the narrative is present. When Sweeney asks shop dealer Raoul Reynarde (Vaughn Taylor of "The Professionals") about the sculpture of a naked woman in turmoil that recurs throughout the film, Raoul notes the sculpture was originally marketed as simply SM1, and then somebody decided the acronym meant Screaming Mimi. When Sweeney interviews Virginia's half-brother, the sculptor tells the reporter that he created the sculpture based on the sight of his nude stepsister cringing in horror as she was attacked in the shower. There is some subtle lesbianism oozing in the scenes between Joanne and her delectable female roommate who pedals cigarettes at the El Madhouse. Altogether, while no masterpiece, "Screaming Mimi" shouldn't be forgotten.