Welcome back to our queer film retrospective, “A Gay Old Time.” In this week’s column, we’re revisiting the 1982 whodunit Deathtrap, which notably featured a, well… *spoiler alert*
Murder mysteries and whodunnits tend to have a particularly queer appeal. The worlds of Agatha Christie, Jessica Fletcher, or Benoit Blanc are always full of larger-than-life characters hiding secrets from each other, exotic faraway locations, fabulous women wrapped in outrageous clothing, and drama hiding in every corner.
The genre revels in the archetypes and narratives that we gravitate towards, either because of its sense of camp and heightened reality, or because themes like hiding one’s true identity and making sense of a chaotic world are reflections of our own experiences.
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The canon of whodunits in film is wide and expansive and though they always manage to find a queer audience, overt queer representation in them is surprisingly quite slim. Films like 1975’s The Last Of Sheila, 1976’s Murder By Death (which we’ve covered in this column before) and more recently the Knives Out movies have had queer characters in different forms of prominence. However, it’s been rare for a character’s queerness to serve as a pivotal plot point or motivation in the story.
This week, to celebrate the recent release of the biographical documentary Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story, we’ll take a look at a murder-mystery movie that made a cultural statement by adding a queer layer to its source material, and thus openly exposed the themes that were otherwise quietly bubbling underneath.
The Set-Up
The 1982 film Deathtrap stars Michael Caine as Sidney Bruhl, a once famous thriller playwright who is now facing the critical and financial decline of his career. Trapped in a creative rut after the failure of his latest play, Sidney is surprised to one night receive a manuscript from a former pupil, Clifford Anderson (Christopher Reeve).
The play turns out to be one of the most brilliant pieces of writing he’s read, and his very supportive wife Myra (an effervescent Dyan Cannon) convinces him to invite the young writer over to talk over a collaboration. But Sidney has other plans, intending to murder Clifford and take credit for the piece to revitalize his own career.
*From now on, this article will be quite spoiler heavy. So if you haven’t seen Deathtrap yet and want to enjoy the many twists and turns of the movie, go do that and come back!*
After a cat-and-mouse chase throughout the evening, Sidney successfully murders Clifford. However, much to his wife’s surprise, he comes back to life in the middle of the night and tries to get his revenge. This is too much for Myra’s poor heart to take, and she falls dead from a heart attack. But then, Sidney and Clifford look at each other and smile: their plan worked. They have successfully killed his wife, and they can now be together to enjoy her fortune. And they share a kiss.
The rest of the movie follows the distrust that the two men begin to have for each other, as Clifford attempts to write a play based on the crime the two committed (it’s a movie heavy on layered narrative themes and devices).
Related*
‘Glass Onion’ plus 9 more whodunits that prove why the genre’s a queer favorite
From ‘Clue’ to ‘Scream,’ the whodunit has long been a favorite of mystery seekers, but the genre holds a special place in the hearts of queer movie lovers.
Queering The Whodunit, Literally
It’s a very cleverly plotted, fast-paced, and engaging meta murder-mystery, with a trio of fun performances at the center. Cannon stands out as the unsuspecting victim, with Reeve effectively weaponizing his boyish charm, and Michael Caine falling comfortably into an archetype he’s done before (the movie shares many similarities with 1972’s Sleuth, where he starred opposite Laurence Olivier).
Deathtrap was directed by Sidney Lumet, who returns to the genre after helming the star-studded 1975 Murder On The Orient Express, and effectively translates the “staginess” of the source material into a dynamic and claustrophobic cinematic experience.
The film is based on the 1978 play of the same name by Ira Levin, which at the time had the distinct honor of being the longest-running comedy thriller on Broadway. Although the play does imply that there is a romantic and sexual relationship between the two leads, the movie made it explicit by including the kissing scene, which was met with much controversy at the time. It was booed by preview audiences, and since the discourse it attracted obviously revealed a major plot twist of the film, the studio believed it cost them millions of dollars in ticket sales.
A Crime Of Passion
However, the kiss, and by extension the romantic nature of the central relationship, is a key element of the story, and what makes it stand out among other entries of the genre. Unlike other films in which a character’s sexuality may be used as piece of information to be used against them (see The Last Of Sheila again), or just as a flair of personality and backstory that never comes into play, the attraction and bond between Sidney and Clifford is what puts the entire plot into motion.
They kill because they want to be together, and the tension that grows between them after the murder is deepened by their emotions for each other. The professional jealousy at the thematic core makes more sense and is felt more strongly between two lovers than if it were just colleagues.
Interestingly and quite disappointingly, there have been attempted revivals of the play that have unsuccessfully tried to lean even further into this romantic relationship. In 2012, a production by the Los Angeles LGBT Center staged the post-murder conversations as a post-coital nude scene, and had to cancel performances when the production was shut down by Ira Levin’s estate . But it’s not as if this was creating a dynamic that was not already there in the text.
A Twist Of Fate
Deathtrap is a worthy entry into the canon of both murder-mystery adaptations and queer films. Although it’s decidedly longer than it needs to be, and its stage origins are sometimes too obvious, it’s filled with enough surprises, twists and gore to keep one guessing and engaged.
The fact that it has a queer couple at its center feels both groundbreaking and also surprisingly familiar; it’s a genre that has made us feel at home for so long, that seeing ourselves openly represented somewhat feels natural.
Deathtrap is currently streaming via Hoopla, Plex, and Tubi. It’s available for digital rental or purchase via Amazon Prime Video and Apple TV.
Related*
Despite behind-the-scenes drama, Capote gives a delicious performance in this gay director’s whodunit
This 1976 whodunit parody made a recent “cameo” on ‘Feud: Capote Vs. The Swans.’
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