Amantes sanguinarios

Based on the true story of Raymond Fernandez and Martha Beck, who met through a lonely-hearts correspondence club, Ray (Tony Lo Bianco) is sleazy and untrustworthy; Martha (Shirley Stoler) is obese, compulsive, and needy. Together, they play out a horrifying scheme in which he lures lonely women out on dates and proposes marriage to them, while she pretends to be his sister. After the marriage ceremonies, they take the womens savings and then murder them in cold blood.

The way this film is shot, with its grainy black and white footage, murky sound, bright whites and dark shadows, only adds to its incredibly unsettling nature. Watching this is almost like watching a documentary, and occasionally, a snuff film.

Though the acting from the supporting cast is a bit iffy at times, the two leads are excellent. Particularly Shirley Stoller. While Lo Bianco creates one of the most hateful slime-balls I've ever seen, Stoller dominates this film. Her Martha is a frightening, unpleasant, disgusting woman, who is as ugly on the inside as she is on the outside. Her evil nature fills the frame whenever she is on screen.

If you're looking for a fast paced thriller, look elsewhere. The pacing in this movie is slow, which only adds to the disturbing documentary feel. But if you want to see a movie where character comes first, and action second, seek this classic out.

I went downtown to see some widescreen extravaganza at a Duplex Cinema and when I bought my ticket realized I'd been standing in the wrong line. (The story of my life.) Instead of seeing some technicolorama epic I wound up seeing this, a cheap black-and-white true crime story.

Well, felix culpa! I emerged shocked. At the time of its release there was nothing quite like it. Two small-time murdering cons deeply in love with one another in some twisted kind of way. Balding, overacting Tony Lo Bianco. Plumply menacing battleaxe of a nurse, Shirley Stoler. The photography is grainy and primitive. Indoor lamps don't simply cast light -- they glare. The movie's idea of a proper family home looks like something that might be owned by a worker in the Pabst Brewery in Newark.

Lo Bianco as Ray is a minor Latin con type, adroit with lonely women, while Stoler, as Martha Beck (great name) is the passionate one, filled with jealousy and rage. I don't know if the victims were supposed to be seen as somehow contemptible, what with their obtuseness and whining, but we never forget that we're dealing with human beings here. The first murder is relatively genteel. Death on a bus follows a poisoning. The next is bone-chilling. To appreciate the shock value of the violence a viewer needs to remember that this was filmed before all the extended gore and homicides we see now in movies like "Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer," "Atlantic City," and "Torn Curtain."

Previously, when the victim was whacked hard on the head with a claw hammer, he or she slumped forward, decorously dead. Not here. As in "The Assassination of Trotsky," the victim is momentarily stunned, then recovers screaming. The second homicide involves the only use of a directorial touch unusual enough to draw attention to itself. The victim is lying on her back in bed while her two attackers discuss the best way to murder her. The camera concentrates on her uncomprehending and frightened eyes flicking from side to side, then a sharp pan to a pistol pressed against her head, and the sound of a shot. (A contemporary review of the film criticized one of the scenes because we could hear Ray urinating into the toilet bowl offscreen.)

The last duet of murders exceeds the limits of any sympathy we might have felt towards the lovers. Ray has promised Martha that he's not going to boff the last victim, whereas, it is revealed, he's been unfaithful -- to Martha, that is. Well, that's enough for Martha. After disposing of both her last rival and child she drops the dime on the two of them. If she can't own Ray exclusively then no one's going to have a piece of him. Ray writes her a love letter in jail. His ability to forgive is almost religious in its magnitude. Either that or he just can't stop telling lies.

This is a true story, and it has the digressions and non sequiturs we find in a real-life script. People get into unexpected and awkward arguments that are accidentally heard offscreen. Ray's sleep is constantly interrupted by Martha arguing with a victim in the next bedroom. The fact that this is based on real events make it all the more scary. Skip Freddy and the rest if you want to be scared out of your wits. Catch this instead.

This dark humorous thriller about a fat nurse and a Spanish gigolo who murder rich but lonely women was recently shown in the midnight program on German cable. "Honeymoon Killers" is based on a true story that happened in the 1940s and still belongs to the most peculiar cases in the history of American crime!

Beverly Stoler plays Martha, an overweight nurse, who leads a boring life with her senile mother and her pesky neighbour. One day she gets to know Ray, a marriage impostor of Spanish origin. Both become lovers as well as partners in crime and they start to cheat and to kill wealthy ladies...

A great film that seeded much too long in the archives! Only a little number of persons know this flick, although it doesn´t need to hide behind other movies about serial killers like "Henry" or even Hitchcock´s "Psycho".

But it´s more than that: "Honeymoon Killers" is a brilliant satire as well as the most bizarre love story I´ve ever seen!!!

'The Honeymoon Killers' is easily one of the most underrated movies of all time. Often unfairly ignored as "just" a b-movie, or half remembered as trivia - the movie Scorsese nearly directed - it is in fact close to perfect, and one of the finest of all American movies dealing with murder. Why writer/director Leonard Kastle didn't make any other movies after this brilliant debut is both a mystery and a tragedy. His work is so impressive and fresh here, who knows what he could have been capable of. He may have turned out to be one of the greats, and even rivaled Scorsese, or Coppola, both having had a similar starts with low budget genre material (see 'Bloody Mama' and 'Dementia 13', their respective collaborations with king of the quickies Roger Corman).

The late Shirley Stoler is a knockout as bored nurse Martha Beck, and Tony Lo Bianco is equally impressive as her Spanish con man boyfriend Raymond Fernandez. Sadly neither actor got the career breaks they deserved. Stoler had small supporting roles in credible movies like 'Klute' and 'The Deer Hunter', and cult favourites like 'Frankenhooker' and 'Miami Blues', but always seemed to overlooked because of her weight. Lo Bianco starred in excellent sleepers like 'The Seven-Ups' and 'God Told Me To', but more often than not ended up as second-Mafioso-on-the-left in crappy movies like 'Boiling Point' and 'The Juror'. Too bad, both are brilliant here and had the potential to go on to better things.

'The Honeymoon Killers' is a minor masterpiece and should be essential viewing for all movie buffs. Don't miss this one!

When fledgling director Martin Scorsese was removed from his first project after spending too much time on master shots, the film's scriptwriter, sometime opera composer Leonard Kastle eventually stepped into the breach. Like Howard Hawks before him, who had made Rio Bravo (1959) as a reaction against the perceived moral falsities of High Noon (1952), Kastle had also written his screenplay as a riposte to an earlier film. After seeing Bonnie And Clyde (1967), he felt that the glamorous crime duo in Penn's film bore little resemblance to reality. For his own treatment he settled on another notorious pairing from the annals of American crime: that of Martha Beck and Raymond Fernandez, the 1940s' slayers dubbed by contemporary tabloids as 'The Lonely Hearts Killers', who met their due judicial end in San Quentin in 1951.

The Honeymoon Killers, as his film was finally called, is an account of Beck and Fernandez and their growing relationship during their notorious murder spree. Fernandez was a con man who preyed on spinsters, promising matrimony and then absconding with their savings. Once linked with Beck, his activities took a fatal turn and matters were complicated by their growing attachment. In fact, Kastle originally intended his film to be called 'Dear Martha', taking as its centre Martha's emotional engagement with her lover, rather than the cold facts of their crimes. It was the producers who ultimately opted for the more lurid title in an attempt to exploit the likely marquee appeal. In some ways it is apt, as we see Ray and Martha (introduced as his 'sister') meet and exploit several vulnerable women or discussing marriage with them before despatching with increasing levels of callousness, either before or after the event. Despite some post-production tinkering by the producers, The Honeymoon Killers remains a love story at heart. That's not to say that the film is not driven by the events that took place, but in Kastle's interpretation the victim's deaths are caused just as much by Martha's jealousies, and her impatience with sharing her lover, as they are by financial greed. Ultimately this is her story and it she who brings it to a fitting close.

From this distance the film actually seems related more to In Cold Blood (1967), Richard Brooks' adaptation of Capote's novel, than to Penn's masterpiece of the same year. The chief protagonists of the former, Perry Smith and Dick Hickok, are on a similar path of self-reliance and destruction. One can even draw a parallel between Perry's addiction to aspirin and Martha's love of chocolate and romance magazines. Kastle's stark black and white photography and concentration on the criminous principals gives the same air of precise, unglamorous re-enactment that's entirely missing in the glossier Beatty and Dunaway vehicle. Whether through the uncertainties of first-time direction or conscious artistic decision, his film has a rough edge, a grainy quality in which actors are thrown into relief by stark lighting and shadow. Its natural interiors and the use of off-screen space give it a chilling near-documentary feel that ensures its cult status remains intact down the years.

At the centre of the film is deadly Martha Beck, the overweight nurse - an outstanding performance by Shirley Stoler. This was Stoler's screen debut and she was hard put to regain such memorability again on screen. She went on to appear next in Klute (1971) and in such films as The Deer Hunter (1978), but the only other time she had such a devastating impact on film was probably in Wertmuller's Seven Beauties (aka: Pasqualino Settebellezze, 1976), where her intimidating bulk was also put to good use, this time in a concentration camp setting. Her co-star Tony Lo Bianco, playing the part of the wily Ray with lightness and distinction, appeared in another cult item: Larry Cohen's God Told Me To (aka: Demon, 1976), but has done little else of note. Like Stoler, this is hour of glory.

Ray is the confidence trickster who, in his regular fashion, initially attempts to ensnare lonely nurse Martha, at the start of the film. Reprimanding two ward juniors at the beginning she says, "I don't care what you do outside the hospital, but in here you're as bad as ammonia and chlorine!" Such comments are ironic given the explosive combination of Martha and Ray to come, a duo that, once joined are as deadly as Bonnie and Clyde, or Smith and Hickok. Her opening words are also echoed in Ray's later, and repeated, views on females who prove an obstruction: "I don't care what you do, just get rid of her!"

When the film was released it was not immediately recognised as the achievement it is (Pauline Kael, said "It's such a terrible movie, I wouldn't recommend it to anyone"). Other critics were more favourable however, and audiences really sat up when François Truffaut thereupon saw it and named it his favourite American film. Some have seen some particular resemblances to the work of the French director in Kastle's and certainly there's a certain Nouvelle Vague, improvisatory air (his use of Mahler for instance recalls Godard's cut-up music scores). Elsewhere however Kastle shows real independence and flair as a director, so much so that one regrets that it is his only film: Ray's 'rumba into romance' for instance, as he approaches Martha for the first time, the con man's face sliding lasciviously through the frame. Or in the use of space, where Martha's size is often enclosed uncomfortably with Ray and/or their prey, suggesting the claustrophobia of killing. Most of all is the director's staging of cold murder - shown not neat and tidy, as is (still) the usual Hollywood practice, but prolonged and troublesome as victims struggle, rather in the way that Hitchcock had presaged in Torn Curtain's gas stove sequence in 1966.

The 1996 Spanish production Profundo Carmesi covers the same ground as does Kastle's, but with its strengths the present film remains the definitive account, and the Region 1 DVD release includes an informative half-hour interview with the director. The less expensive Region 2 disc excludes this valuable extra, but retains the same excellent widescreen transfer, even if the audio elements on both editions remain in some need of digital restoration. Oddly enough, the awkward sound adds to the scary immediacy of it all. Other than that, there's the trailer that, for once, tells the truth: "See The Honeymoon Killers and just try to forget!"