Playing against type for a change, Clint Eastwood cast himself as the radio DJ whos bugged by an obsessive female fan in his directorial debut. Meeting a woman at his local bar named Evelyn, our protagonist Dave the DJ drives her home, where she coyly reveals that shed meant to meet him there: she remembered him mentioning the place on his show. It turns out shes a repeat caller to his show, who always asks him to play Misty, the jazz piano standard. Her confession doesnt trouble him in the slightest hey, this is the seventies and he sleeps with her anyway, thereby proving once again to a promiscuous and immoral world that casual sex can absolutely kill you in the face. Evelyn proceeds to haunt Daves life in more and more deranged fashion, reappearing increasingly violently in his life despite his attempts to let her down easily. Matters come to a head when she kidnaps Daves new girlfriend, killing a cop in the process. Dave replaces his live show with a tape and surprises Evelyn, overpowering her, and she falls to her death, while the radio in the background replays a younger, happier Dave putting on Misty for her one last time Play Misty For Me is a cracking directorial debut for anyone, let alone a big lug famous for playing laconic cowboys. The sexual politics of the story are a little dicey but, again it was the seventies. Its Jessica Walters performance that makes this a classic, though. The future Lucille Bluth is a revelation in the role that would make her career, completely committed in several senses of the word, by turns adorable and utterly hatstand.
Professional writer, punk werewolf and nesting place for starfish. Obsessed with squid, spirals and story. I publish short weird fiction online at desincarne.com, and tweet nonsense under the name Jack The Bodiless. You can follow me all you like, just don't touch my stuff.
