Then we are introduced to Kitty at a party. She is shrouded in mystery seated at the piano turned away from the camera. She briefly turns to the viewer (and the Swede) and smiles. From behind, we see just her suggestive shoulders coming out of her single-strap gown. Immediately, the Swede and the viewer is stricken. When he approaches, she remains seated in a position of vulnerability while he stands leaning on the piano, and yet she controls the conversation. She subliminally informs him that she is out of reach. She is above his class and looks down on boxing, feigning an aversion to violence as a cover up for her condescension. But she leads him on, and holds his gaze without acknowledging him. That is the extent of her grip on him that she can look away and sing and pretend not to notice the man who can't take his eyes off of her.
Kitty has a couple of other major scenes, but her screen time is actually quite limited. But she does not even have to appear on screen to influence the events occurring in the movie. She looms over every scene. And in the final sequence in the Green Cat, the reflection of the cat statue, surely a symbol of Kitty, looms over Reardon in the mirror. She is in control of the action, or so she believes. And only after she has gotten everybody killed does she helplessly cry, displaying a sign of weakness. For the first time, she does not hold the power and the femme fatale is transformed into a damsel in distress. Except now that we know all of the background, we are not seduced.
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