Femme Fatale Anthem.... Cyd Charisse, a true Silencer
'Dear sir — I'm her !'
Cyd Charisse tells you she's your assassin. And you . . . you . . .
By Die4Her sub Gerald
( Editor's note: We've had bad luck with Youtube, Myspace and other videos coming and going... If you can't play Ms. Charisse to the right, you should be able to view her lovely performance at our Yahoo Group — click here. )
As The Silencers opens, an obvious bad guy pulls out a series of bullets with good-guy Matt Helm's name on them, telling his three male thugs to get the American superspy. But we immediately, and deftly, cross cut to a series of striptease dancers... implicit message being — well, you know: If you want a male rubbed out, turn to the deadlier of the species.
Two beautiful and high-energy ladies dance through a routine through fast-paced music... And then...
Enter a slow drum roll, a shift to a red boa, and... Cyd Charisse. The imcomparable Cyd Charisse. Slowly, self-amusedly, somewhat brazenly, moving subtly and seductively, she begins the song — the words of which appear in the sidebar nearby, left.
Lyrics and notes to "The Silencer"
Oh, a gun can be a .22,
Or a .38 and it will silence you...
Dear sir — that is a silencer.
But if you should see a lady who
Has the kind of waist that measures 22,
And she's 38 where it is great to measure 38...
Dear sir — she is a silencer
Dear sir — ( pause ) — I'm her !
( instrumental transition )
I don't use a knife, don't need a gun...
My equipment is a lot more deadly son —
Dear sir... I am a silencer...
( serious expression, addresses camera directly )
And if you're a man, not made of wood,
When I flip my hips I'll quiet you for good —
Let me brush you lips and crush your lips
And nicely hush your lips, dear Sir...
( smiles, winks )
The silen-cer.
( smiles at herself, and the male audience )
Don't sit, don't move, re-lax...
Loosen your tie...
Turn out the lights
( turns out the lights... then blushes in mock modesty )
Take of your shoes... don't fight
Lean back, relax...
Relax... relax...
Watching this with other males from time to time, it's been my observation there isn't an un-bated breath in the room. The sound, indeed, becomes an echo of the sense: Hushed, awed, silence.
The case for her performace of "The Silencers" is ultimately based on preference. One can argue for the more femme-tastic Dolores Gray singing "Thanks a lot, but no thanks," or for either of two numbers by Gwen Verdon in Damn Yankees. Sinistra's dance in Ghost in the Invisible Bikini takes the camp, 60s-beach-classic cake. But cast my vote for Ms. Charisse, for these several reasons:
1. The setting. In the movie, Charisse plays an actual female assassin, a woman highly successful at bringing about a cessation of male cardiovascular functions. Hence, her song is not incidental to the action (as in some femme fatale anthems) or even, if you will, in a kind of contradiction to it.
2. The wording. Charisse, in a nice development, first says that, in general, the right female is a "silencer" — and then, with an enthusiastic toss of her boa into the air, joyously and arrogantly proclaims, "Dear sir — I'm her ! "
The rest of the dance becomes a more or less explicit invitation to the male will to collaborate in his own destruction. "I am happy to tell you I am a silencer," is the message, "because I can enthrall you into a willingness to die for me anyway."
3. The performance. Charisse comes on quietly, following the somewhat overstated performance by the previous femme fatales — making her subtle, more feminine movements all the more powerful. Her confidence is not only serious and arresting, but properly arrogant: She smiles through most of the performance after her "I'm her" proclamation, appreciating her own command of the room both within the story, and onscreen.
And of course, on the intangible level, the presence of a major star like Charisse in this "guest star" role adds to the arresting quality when she enters the screen in a sea-of-red closeup. Charisse reportedly sought the role — she wanted to perform that number — and it shows. Here is a woman often called the greatest dancer of her generation, in the full knowledge, and enjoyment, of her incredible femdominant power.
THERE'S NO RIGHT ANSWER to the question posed for the Femme Fatale Anthem, of course. Charisse's character, alas, is unsuccessful in her one attempted kill during the actual movie, a definite detraction. (Hmmm, though: How about a prequel?) And some may prefer the increidble dancing of Gwen Verdon in "Whatever Lola Wants," or the over-the-top symbolism, and more Ethel-Merman type in your face femme fatality, of Ms. Gray.
But for me, it's the slinky, slithering, self-amused understatement of Charisse, inviting male participation in his own self-destruction, that comprises the quintessence of femme fatality. Cyd Charisse, a silencer? As she moves across the stage, what man would want to make a sound?
Home, horsie!