Nobody sets out to make a bad film – but, as Dave discovers, Andrei Feher’s shockingly awful thriller certainly puts that old adage to the test…

“Sorry, it’s just a lot to handle in five minutes.”

No shit.

Aldo Botticelli’s (Daniel McVicar) reaction to an overwhelming exposition dump is pretty much the same as anyone who might be watching KISS OF DEATH. Barely seconds into its opening, Botticelli’s wife, Peggy (Cristi Harris), breaks the news to him that they’re the beneficiaries of a lucrative grant from The Al Capone Foundation (no, I have no idea either). They’re in line for a dream home and they’ll be receiving a $25,000 lumper followed by an additional $5,000 a month for the next two decades.

Quite the modern day Robin Hood.

The reason for the windfall is down to Peggy responding to the foundation’s request for applications from people who felt that their lives were in need of a fiscal leg-up. In doing so the eighteen year-old revealed the fact that not only was she adopted, but her real life mother was sent to the electric chair for murdering sixteen people by poisoning them: a titbit she failed to mention to her new husband.

This initial atom bomb of an outline lays the groundwork for a quite remarkable feature. In the pantheon of mesmerically bad movies, Kiss of Death circles the same orbit as The Room (2003) and Dangerous Men (2005) – albeit without a sniggering entourage of followers who demand it be put in stocks for a RiffTrax pummelling.

An incomprehensible story lies at the core of the film’s issues. Botticelli evolves into a heroin addicted wannabe rapist confined to a wheelchair, and Peggy shacks up with the wealthy Grant (Myles O’Brien) – apparently, as Kiss of Death‘s makers neglected to shoot most of that plot strand – much to the dismay of his increasingly moody wife, Blair (Vanity, in her last screen appearance).

The auteur behind Kiss of Death was Andrei Feher, a filmmaker whose life seems infinitely more fascinating than his cinematic swansong. Born in Romania in 1916, Feher became a celebrated cinematographer in his homeland, working consistently through the ‘50s and ‘60s and lending his eye to acclaimed features like Mihai Iacob’s Darclée (1960). The political situation in Romania saw him move to Yugoslavia in 1963 and then to Italy – though by the late ‘70s, Feher was using the Anglicised pseudonym ‘Andrew Whyte’ (the English translation of Feher is ‘white’) and had moved to Sweden to make pornography. America was his final destination, presumably because his son, Dr. Tomas Anderkvist, had set up a successful dental practice on Wilshire Blvd during the ‘90s; indeed it was he who served as executive producer on Kiss of Death while his father undertook writing, directing, editing, and a handful of producing duties.

“Andrei spoke with a strong accent,” recalls line producer Dan Reardon. “Sometimes it was hard to understand what he was trying to say. I got the job through a chance meeting with him and he asked me to read the script – and then offered me the position. He was always so happy to be on set and took great pride in his work, although I think the film suffered from the screenplay being a little unbelievable!”

Whether Feher and Anderkvist recouped their investment is anyone’s guess as potential distributors showed precious little interest in their movie. To date Kiss of Death has never received a physical release in the U.S. and the U.K. and it hasn’t graced cable or satellite either. Lensed between March and May 1993, it was four years before Germany took a punt on it, and – If you’re so inclined – the film is still available for purchase on an English-friendly DVD from our European friends as part of a ‘Shades of Seduction’ collection.

USA ● 1997 ● Thriller ● 90mins

Cristi Harris, Daniel McVicar, Vanity, Kurt Andon, Myles O’Brien ● Wri./Dir. Andrei Feher