Who Killed Teddy Bear?

For all his good work in films, when I think of Sal Mineo... I think of this film. Back in the crazy 1990s, the Husband & I caught a rare showing of Who Killed Teddy Bear? at a revival house in the U District if Seattle. This grim little story is crammed with homoerotic references throughout, although the tale is a typical boy-stalks-girl thing. The censors didn’t object & since the outcome satisfied all the code requirements, the filmakers let everything else go. Mineo's wardrobe consists of snug underwear, skimpy swim briefs or form fitting tee shirts & skin tight jeans.



He's a shirtless body builder & porno book browser, too. In contrast, the object of is attentions is almost demure. Juliet Prowse, long past her glory days in Frank Sinatra & Elvis Presley musicals, gets a dance number with Mineo, but most of the time she's bundled up in nightgowns & bathrobes. She has a full length mirror in her bedroom reflecting onto the street & she doesn't hang up when she hears heavy breathing on her telephone. She is my kind of girl.



Who Killed Teddy Bear? teaches us all a lesson about straying to the seamy side of sexual obsession. When things heat up,the film offers lyrical visual interludes, suggesting the child like innocence that is destroyed by our, & by that I mean- my twisted sexual fantasies. Maybe these efforts are to distract the viewer from the cheap nightclub where Mineo & Prowse work, as well as the horrifying soundtrack. You can't beat this film for sordid moments: detective Jan Murray listens to recorded conversations of perverts while his real-life daughter Diane Moore tries to sleep in the next room, nightclub owner Elaine Stritch (Elaine Stritch!) protests too much when Prowse accuses her of a lesbian advance, & there’s the very weird relationship Mineo has with his sister. For a journey into sexual paranoia circa 1965, Who Killed Teddy Bear? has it all. Check it out!