It's not as outrageous or kinky as the title might suggest, but this early Ann-Margret feature still has claws, even if they're just playful kitten ones. She's a teenage runaway named Jody who invades the home of a straight-laced senatorial candidate (John Forsythe) whose wife and daughter are out of town. Naturally, Jody decides she'll stay a while. The home-as-battlefield scenario has always been a standby for budget-conscious producers (a coupla actors, one set, bingo!), and initially KITTEN looks set to repeat the pattern: mind games, oneupmanship, territorial dominance, et al. But Ann-Margret's Jody has no time for subtlety; she plays coy for only a few moments before switching to petulant. We know we can never trust characters like these in the movies so its refreshing to have her cut to the chase and dispense with the game-playing early on in the film. The path of the story is clear -- Forsythe is in over his head with this wildcat and the two of them are going to keep battling it out one of them wins.

Ann-Margaret is fine as the two-dimensional bad girl (you won't feel anything for or against her) because her cartoon-like manner is just the kind of thing that would bewilder Forsythe's character. However, as a couple they don't look as if they would sustain a two-character drama, which is why it's a good thing that Jody takes a back seat upon the arrival of three of her juvie friends. This middle chapter of the film is great fun to watch as we can never predict just what each character is going to do or say next (many other films of this type usually botch things up at this point by introducing a feverish, hysterical pitch). Peter Brown and Skip Ward steal the film as a couple of conflicted, philosophical beat-talking buddies who absolutely refuse to conform to juvenile delinquent stereotypes. Ironically, though Forsythe remains restrained and clear-thinking throughout his situation, it's Ann-Margret, Brown and Ward who use the law against him, twisting his sense of right and wrong, and citing felonies to keep him under their control.

The final section of the film, which unexpectedly departs from the confines of the house and heads off on a road trip, drops characters in and out of the story with every new twist. In many ways Forsythe is a straight man in a farce -- he's like FAWLTY TOWERS' insufferable hotelier Basil Fawlty, ad-libbing a series of snowballing lies to maintain an appearance of control. The film's one hilarious scene, which winds up with Forsythe and his friends seated in a seedy club, practically moves the story out of reality and into nightmare. Indeed, in the film's finale Forysthe awakens to discover that the agent of his ordeal has provided him with the opportunity to erase the entire story. Was it all a dream? The dramatic images of the final scenes would certainly fit one. KITTEN WITH A WHIP isn't a trash movie (they try to dude it up a little by filching Henry Mancini's theme from TOUCH OF EVIL) but isn't a mainstream movie either. It's too original for that. "Cool it, you creep, and co-exist!"

"Cork it up!  You're beginning to bug me!"  "Cork it yourself—who made this mess?" Jody replies.  "You did, jail bait, and if I was in better shape, I'd dump you in the ditch and let the cops have you.  You and big daddy, too."

"Don't take it so downy.  You know your trouble?  You waste an awful lot of time trying to make sense where nothing does.  Bookies and pushers make more than preachers.  They drop the bomb tomorrow, so why worry?  Who cares?"

"Jody filled us in."  "The latest Nielsen—you're top 10," says Buck, the blonde thug.  "That's good?" asks David.  "Well sir, it means that you're in no immediate danger of cancellation," quips Ron, the philosopher (with hat).