The Silencers

USA • 1966 • 102m •

• Directed by: Phil Karlson. • Starring: Dean Martin, Stella Stevens, Daliah Lavi, Victor Buono, Arthur O'Connell, Robert Webber, James Gregory, Nancy Kovack, Roger C. Carmel, Cyd Charisse, Beverly Adams, Richard Devon, David Bond. • Music by: Elmer Bernstein.

Matt Helm, a boozing womanizing cad of a spy, is coaxed out of retirement by ex-girlfriend Tina Batori. His mission: stop the evil Big O organization, whose leader, Tung-Tze, schemes to sabotage an atomic missile and thus spark World War III.

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3:07

Review:

There are just two people I feel sorry for. One is Elmer Bernstein, who allegedly wrote the music. Elmer "The Ten Commandments", "To Kill a Mockingbird", "The Great Escape", "The Magnificent Seven" Bernstein... nope, sorry, I don't believe it's really him. The music alone makes the film unendurable. Someone wanders around having pratfall after pratfall; now imagine this accompanied by the most shamelessly schmoozy, ingratiating, nudge-nudge wink-wink ditties ground out over and over again on a Hammond organ, and if the result doesn't seem like torture then you haven't imagined it properly. This score is now on Elmer Bernstein's CV for all time. When he is asked to give an account of himself on Judgement Day, he will have to say, "Due to a technicality, the musical score to 'The Silencers' is in my name." Actually, he will probably instead say, "Any questions about my contribution to 'The Silencers' should be directed to my lawyers."

The other person I feel sorry for is Stella Stevens. Maybe this is just because I found her attractive. Or maybe I'm sorry for myself, because I would have loved to see more of her, while the idiots who made this film assumed I'd rather be watching Dean Martin - as if. Stevens plays the Dumb Broad. She is NOT the sex object. The latter would in fact have been a much less demeaning role, and I'll bet she regrets to this day the fact that she turned down something classy like "Sex Kittens in Paraguay" in order to appear here.

I don't feel at all sorry for Dean Martin. I'm sure he's to blame somehow. His character comes across as a completely charmless lush with - I feel like a fool for even bringing this point up - obscure motivation. The only things that he displays even the most tepid enthusiasm for are booze and lying around. He reacts to the prospect of nuclear war, AND to Stella Stevens thrusting her breasts invitingly against him, with exactly the same kind of indifferent distaste, and anyone who can do this is dead from the skin inwards.

Words fail me. I cannot convey how bad this is: like most very bad things, it requires a great effort of will to get any pleasure even out of contemplating its badness. Do NOT suppose that the very little we get to see of the pretty women who are reluctantly prodded in front of the camera in any way compensates for the ordeal of watching the film.

Review by Spleen from the Internet Movie Database.

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