No Way to Treat a Lady (1968)

No Way to Treat a Lady (1968) is a darkly comic thriller directed by Jack Smight, with a screenplay by John Gay adapted from William Goldman's novel of the same name. The film starred Rod Steiger, Lee Remick and George Segal, the latter of whom was nominated for a BAFTA for his role as Detective Moe Brummel.

New York detective Moe Brummell (George Segal) is assigned to track down a serial killer who has been preying on lonely middle-aged ladies. Each of the bodies is discovered with a lipstick kiss drawn on the forehead. We know (but Brummell doesn't) that the murderer is Christopher Gill (Rod Steiger), a round-the-bend actor whose hatred for his mother has driven him to his killing spree.

Gill is fond of adopting a different personality and costume with each killing (a priest, a homosexual, a plumber etc.), making him doubly difficult to trace. When Brummell comments to the media that he's up against a criminal genius, he finds himself the reluctant recipient of Gill's anonymous phone calls, wherein the killer plants cryptic clues leading to his next crime.

It may not be readily apparent from the previous sentence, but No Way to Treat a Lady is a comedy-albeit a jet-black one. Moe Brummell is hampered with an archetypal Jewish mamma (Eileen Heckart), who in her own way is as deadly as the elusive Christopher Gill. Lee Remick plays Brummell's girl friend, who, as the only person who might be able to identify Gill, is placed in harm's way at the film's climax.

A curious by-product of No Way to Treat a Lady is the fact that Rod Steiger was cast in the lead in the 1976 biopic W.C. Fields and Me on the basis of the third-rate Fields imitation he offers to George Segal during one of his taunting phone calls.

Nowadays, when it seems that a successful film has to be either a big holiday or summer special-effects blockbuster, or a cheap independent circuit success, it makes one long for the days when good films with good stories were made for modest budgets and provided a decent piece of entertainment without overloading the senses. This dying breed of the movies is still around, however, and although often under appreciated, should be sought out. One case in point is No Way to Treat a Lady, a black comedy that combines a crime drama with the often humorous relationships men have with their mothers. In spite of the film being a thriller, we know from the beginning who the bad guy is. It's Rod Steiger, who gets to really stretch and ham it up as a theater manager/serial killer who murders each of his victims in some outlandish disguise to win their trust. George Segal is the cop who must crack the case and, at the same time, fend off his wonderfully annoying mother, Eileen Heckart (whose running gag line, "Who ever heard of a Jewish cop?" gets repeated over and over again throughout).

Steiger's character is one of those vain killers who checks the newspaper for reports of his exploits and who takes to calling Segal when the facts are reported wrong or when he wants to taunt the authorities. Segal is rather bland, although it's not really his fault since the role doesn't give him much to do other than to react to the other characters, particularly his mother, Steiger, and Lee Remick, as his love interest and would-be victim of the murderer. Steiger goes way, way over the top, but it works because the film has set him up to be not only flamboyant, but overreactive to mother issues of his own. His various disguises get odder and odder as the film moves along, and when it shifts from comedy into resolution of the crime mode, his character becomes that much more menacing, not because he's funny but because we learn, as Segal puts the pieces together, that he is honestly and truly deranged. Remick serves as the breath of fresh air, only because her character is the only one who isn't dealing with some sort of emotional crisis. The scene where she meets and charms Heckart is an overlooked comedic gem.

Although murder and mental illness are hardly laughing matters, director Jack Smight squeezes legitimate comedy from the corrosive camaraderie of Steiger and Segal in their hare-and-hound relationship.

Segal gives his best performance since King Rat, and Steiger offers the audience a cornucopia of characters and caricatures. Some are overplayed while others are slighted, but consistency is beside the point: not many other major American actors could have brought off this kind of multifaccted tour de force, which once was the exclusive property of Alec Guinness.