Is it too great a pun to call His Kind of Woman, Priceless? If so, slap the cuffs on me and take me away to jail because His Kind of Woman is a film which lives and dies by the vocal wonder that is Vincent Price. A constant reminder that the greatest flaw our society will always face is that he failed to live long enough to do a GPS voice over.
When dealing with a movie of the flair of His Kind of Woman, it's important to categorize just what kind of film it is. Setup and packed with all the markings of a fly by night, run of the mill noir tale, His Kind of Woman injects a lovely dose of self-awareness, and light hearted adventure along the way. The interplay and romantic tinglings between our picture of masculinity (Mitchum) and the epitome of sex appeal (Russell), reaches a chemical overload, exploding off the screen. And it's a good thing to, because the story just isn't that great.
True to the course, and willing to take a chance, His Kind of Woman shines in the most nuanced, twilight lit light. Of course, it doesn't hurt that the film features Jim "the Thurston Howell III Mr. Magoo" Backus as a bumbling background loafer - obviously present to supply this film with the necessary street cred. Oh, this is just a joy to be had.
Every character just works. Not only on their own right, but with respect to the personas of those around them. Their conversations bounce off one other flawlessly. It's almost as if the cast was born to work together. From bit players to big stars, everyone pulls their own weight. And the film is all the better for it!
Overall Rating: 8.00/10
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