The Killing

The Killing (1956) movie poster

(1956) dir. Stanley Kubrick
viewed: 06/17/10

After watching Michael Winterbottom’s latest adaptation of a Jim Thompson novel from pulp page to big screen, The Killer Inside Me (2010), I felt somewhat interested in venturing down Thompson’s other cinematic forays, such as they’ve been.  Most of Thompson’s work that has been adapted, I have seen, but what was also compelling was that briefly, in the 1950′s he worked with notable auteur Stanley Kubrick on two films, the 1956 low-budget, highly stylized noir film The Killing and then again on 1957′s Paths of Glory.

Kubrick is such a popular auteur, a big cult hero with several films that people just love to watch over and over, that it struck me as odd that in the nine or so years that I have been writing and keeping my film diary that I’ve only actually watched one of his films.  I mean, I’ve seen a lot of them varying numbers of times but the only one that I’d seen in the last decade or so was The Shining (1980).  A lot of that is just circumstance.  I almost went and saw Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964) last month at the Castro.  Anyways, I still only had seen one of the films recently enough to have written about it.

I’d seen The Killing before, but for some reason had some sort of mental block about it, getting it confused with whether it was Kubrick’s previous film, Killer’s Kiss (1955) (which I do not believe that I’ve seen) and also perhaps with the two versions of The Killers Richard Siodmak’s 1946 version and Don Siegel’s 1964 version.  Now that may seem just silly to you, but believe me, I think I’ve found confusion there.

Perhaps no more, however.

The Killing is a terse heist film, a bit of an ensemble picture in which even star Sterling Hayden is as much of a character actor as much of the rest of the cast.   It’s told in a not completely linear fashion, though with a loud, pedantic narrative voice over to give us “just the facts”, so to speak, reminding me quite significantly of Sgt. Joe Friday’s dull monotone from Dragnet.  But like almost every heist story, things go wrong, as much as they go right, as much precision is brought to bear, the whole crew is due for dissolution and death.

Not being a Kubrick scholar or having even read up on him much, I can only speculate at the experimentation that was going on in this film, from its narrative hopscotching to its often very interesting camerawork to the rich character actor performances that give this film its particular flavor.  It’s funny to me that it always failed to register more significantly in previous viewing or viewings in that there is so much specific here from the horse race (filmed at local Bay Meadows) to the unusual ethnic identities and racial slurs of some of the characters.   And even especially a couple of key scenes, Hayden in the clown’s mask, robbing the crew at gunpoint to the penultimate image of the wads of stolen money blowing wildly about on the tarmac at the airport, swirling away into nothing.

It’s an excellent film.  Hard to say about the Thompson dialogue, since I know little of the production of the film (he’s credited for dialogue, not the screenplay), though there are lots of colorful barbs and backs-and-forths.  I suppose that this is a film that can be seen in a number of contexts, and perhaps the Jim Thompson angle is one of the smaller ones.  Still, it’s well worth the re-visit for any number of reasons.  And it might finally do me some good to make sure that I can finally lay claim to having seen all four of the films that I conflated with one another so as to never have that problem again.

The Seventh Victim

The Seventh Victim (1943) movie poster

(1943) dir. Mark Robson
viewed: 06/10/10

Rounding out my final film of my Val Lewton RKO horror series, I have to say that The Seventh Victimis probably the best and most interesting of the films directed by Mark Robson for Lewton.  It’s definitely the weirdest when it comes right down to it, and for the films of Val Lewton, that is saying something.

Personally, I think that Lewton achieved his greatest successes with Jacques Tourneur (Cat People (1942), I Walked with a Zombie (1943), and The Leopard Man (1943)), the first two of which are among the best horror films of any era and any level of production values.  But with Robson, who wasn’t lacking in talent having begun as a film editor at RKO on Citizen Kane (1941) and The Magnificent Ambersons (1942) with Orson Welles, the works don’t seem to jell in quite the same ultimate fashion.  But The Seventh Victim comes as close as he gets, with a great deal of fascinating content, subtexts, great scenes, and even devil worship!

While there are elements of film noirin all of these Lewton films, The Seventh Victim, which features no real supernatural element, in many ways plays more film noirthan horror.  Many afficianados note that Lewton’s horror films were all more psychological than pure traditionalist horror, but really in each of them, the element or “question” of the supernatural infuses itself within the narratives.  Is something magical happening?  Or is it all explainable?

The Seventh Victimhas a highly convoluted plot, about a girl who has lived her life at a private school, coming of age and having to go to New York to find her older sister and benefactor when she suddenly falls off the face of the Earth.  But her sister, who had run a cosmetics company, didn’t simply disappear in any simple way.  And everyone that she meets, from her sister’s husband, to her sister’s doctor, to her sister’s best friends, all are hiding elements of the story.  Everyone seems to have something to hide, something sinister in their nature or being.  And oddly enough, for many of them, that is a form of benign-ish devil worship.

The devil worshipers are oddly pacifists, who are only forced into murder when one of their own seems to be ratting them out.  They are certainly predecessors of the devilish folk of Rosemary’s Baby (1968), though much more banal and less clear.

The film also has another prescient moment, a shower scene, undoubtably influential on the classic shower scene of Alfred Hitchcock’s notorious Psycho (1960), and in some ways, even all the more shocking because of it.  The scene is nowhere as violent or analyzed, but is extremely effective, filled with fears of vulnerability, mystery, and threat.  And it carries with it the film’s themes of lesbianism (though not a very enlightened theme of lesbianism, rather one tied to domination and otherness.)

However, the film’s most shocking and striking characteristic is its end.  The film ends on an incredibly pessimistic note, with a great sensibility of doom, the inevitability of death, and is notable in that Lewton apparently, when told that his film was not supposed to have “a message”, said that the film did indeed have a message and that it was that “death is good”.   I don’t know that death is necessarily good in this film, but rather that it is something inescapable and perhaps better than living in certain circumstances.

I felt that the film had a little too much happening, really, to make it as poetic or ideal as Cat People or I Walked with a Zombie, but it has a number of extremely striking scenes (on the subway where a body is being dumped, or the classic Lewton “walk” scenes, in which a character walks through a darkened alley-like space, hunted by unseen forces, but tied very much to the real, urban world).  And it has that pervasive power of weirdness, of gloom, and of ultimate pessimism and death that is just so damn striking.

Lewton’s reputation is well-earned.  His films are all worth seeing, and really they are worth seeing together, to sense the themes and continuity, contrasts and ideas.  I already feel like revisiting the ones that I’d seen a couple of years back before this recent dive into his oeuvre.  And I do still have the Martin Scorsese-directed documentary to watch.  And who knows, maybe a couple of his other films will become available too.

Night and the City

Night and the City (1950) movie poster

(1950) dir. Jules Dassin
viewed: 03/15/10

Better late than never, I am discovering the work of director Jules Dassin.  It’s not like it’s a secret discovery.  The fact that most of his films that are available on DVD are Criterion Collection editions tells you pretty safely that he’s solid stuff.  Over the past year or so, I’ve watched Rififi (1955) (my favorite) and Brute Force (1947) and now his 1950 film, Night and the City, and all I can say is I can’t wait to watch the next one.

Dassin was one of the filmmakers who was chased out of Hollywood during the Red Scare and blacklisted.  Night and the City was filmed on location in London, and essentially was his last film for the Hollywood system that stymied him.  Even though his name has such a European sound to it, he’s American, from New York and he made serious contributions to the film noir aesthetic and period crime picture.

Night and the City stars the fantastic Richard Widmark as the poor sap who strives so hard but just doesn’t have what it takes to make it big, only what it takes to make a big mess.  He gets involved in a rather convoluted scheme to “take over professional wrestling in London”, aiming to shaft the current promotor, played by a young Herbert Lom.  He teams up with a legendary Greek wrestler and his protoge and plans to run roughshod over Lom, protected because the honorable Greek legend is Lom’s semi-estranged father.

It’s kind of confusing to explain, and there is this other angle, borrowing money from the wife of the bar owner that he works for, she thinking they’ve got a “thing”.  And then her husband suspects and puts the bite on Widmark.  Anyways, it’s a world of duplicitous people and honest people, and sometimes, quite often, each person is both, honest and duplicitious.

The cinematography is amazing, using the city streets of London and the shadowy offices and apartments of the characters as cages for these would be prisoners.  Or maybe they are all just prisoners of their own situations.  When Widmark is running from the whole city, he is chased across a construction site and climbs the stairs to hide, but has to attack to survive.  The scene is brilliantly filmed, moving the camera from shot to shot and catching Widmark’s harried face in varying angles of sweat and fear.

It’s excellent stuff.

To Have and Have Not

To Have and Have Not (1944) movie poster

(1944) dir. Howard Hawks
viewed: 01/20/10

You know those great movies that were made in the days before “they don’t make ‘em like they used to?”  The best of Hollywood’s output during its heyday?  Movies with classic lines like “You know how to whistle, don’t you, Steve? You just put your lips together and blow.”  Starring great movie stars like Humphrey Bogart, Lauren Bacall, and Walter Brennan?  Directed by the auteur of auteurs, Howard Hawks?  And even co-scripted by William Faulkner, a nobel prize-winning novelist adapting for the screen a book by another nobel-winner, Ernest Hemingway?  And throw in Hoagy Carmichael!

Okay, so it’s not really quite like this film has as many true peers as it could, but it is of an era of classic stuff.  This is one of those movies that you’d hope no idiot would ever try to re-make.  It’s just not necessary (despite the fact that it doesn’t stick too closely to the novel at all).  It was also 19-year old Lauren Bacall’s first film and where she met and started her life-long romance with Humphrey Bogart.  It’s got a hell of a lot going for it.

I’d just read To Have and Have Not last year for the first time, and believe it or not, I’d never seen the film myself before now.  It’s never too late to discover for yourself what many people have known for eons, movies like this, they are worth digging up and seeing.  Big time.

Moving the action from Cuba to Martinique and truncating a more complex narrative into a single setting of time and place certainly does rob the novel quite a bit of its character.  But it takes the general scenario, a rum-runner/captain of a small fishing boat/half-honest American Harry Morgan, who through circumstances winds up taking the smuggling of some human cargo for a political situation with which he is not involved, and makes as good on it as it perhaps might have been possible.

At times, there’s a tad bit of re-hash of Casablanca (1942) going on, but the film has so much of its own that that might be quibbling.  Bogart and Bacall are terrific together.  And although her singing leaves a bit to be desired, her sultry voice and gorgeous eyes and lips leave nothing to be desired.  It’s all there.

Hoagy Carmichael as “Cricket”, the pianist, is a wonderful thing to rediscover as well.  He’s got such a deft way with his songs, you almost wish the whole film was about him at times.  And Walter Brennan.  That guy is just plain great.  They truly do not make gentlemen like him these days.

Hell, it’s all about the “having” and not anything about the “not”.  This is top-notch Hollywood.  You cannot go wrong.

Brighton Rock

Brighton Rock (1947) movie poster

(1947) dir. John Boulting
viewed: 09/12/09 at the Castro Theatre, SF, CA

The Pacific Film Archive and the Castro Theatre are doing a series on British noir, which is an interesting thing, given that it’s considered to be a very American style (though brought to America by multiple European immigrant directors).  And unfortunately, I couldn’t get out to see more of the series, but I did earmark Brighton Rock to see, as I’d read Graham Greene’s novel a year or two ago and found it quite striking.  Beyond that, it’s been coming up more and more as a cultural reference, and I was surprised by its significance.

The story is about a small-time thug in Brighton, set between the World Wars, a time in which poverty and crime combined to be quite a menace in Brighton, apparently.  Though the British censors and Brighton tourism made sure that the film had a prologue title to say that this had all been cleaned up by the police.  The thug is quite a character, Pinky Brown, played with ultimate seedy gusto by a very young Richard Attenborough.  He’s a loathsome figure, hating the world, women, himself, everything.  And being a small-time thug, he still thinks he’s bigger than he is.

The book is a bit of a detective novel, using the bawdy character of Ida, a barroom good-time brassy loudmouth, who loves her fellow man, as the unlikely gumshoe who wishes to prove the murder of a man she just met but took a shine to.  She also seeks to protect the innocent waitress who Pinky sidles up to in looking to keep her quiet regarding an aspect of the murder.  She falls for him, delusional and lovingly, though he hates her guts.

The film is a very apt and stylish adaptation.  Characters are well-cast and the film has several moments and sequences with great style and flair.   One of the nicest sequences is when Pinky murders Fred in the Haunted House ride on Brighton pier.  The images of the ghosts, skulls and ghouls flash up like the would in almost animated swoops.  The trip to hell was never quite so literal.

Great book, good adaptation.  Oddly, in my research, I see that it’s being re-made for release next year.  I guess that is less odd all the time since very little gets away with only being made once.  This version, while not necessarily definitive, was co-adapted by Greene himself.  No slouch at the screenwriting either.  Good stuff, indeed.

Brute Force

Brute Force (1947) movie poster

(1947) dir. Jules Dassin
viewed: 04/12/09

Why it took me so long to discover director Jules Dassin, I’ll have to clock up to circumstance.  But after seeing his influential caper film, Rififi (1955), I’ve queued up his other works, which actually had already been in my Netflix queue.  I just queued them higher.  I think I rented Brute Force first because it was the earliest of his films in my queue.

Brute Force is considered a film noir but is a prison film, not the most typical of settings for noir, but not an inapt one.  Starring Burt Lancaster as the leader of the inmates, it follows the brutality of the prison system on the prisoners, especially as meted out by sadist Hume Cronyn, the leader of the guards.  And while the actual warden is a man of liberal leanings, one who prefers reform to brutality, the failure of the system and growing anatagonism leads to a very violent prisonbreak, quite shocking even today, much less at the time of the film’s production in 1947.

The film depicts the criminals as nobles, largely, none of whose back-story shows them to be anything other than would-be good-guys caught in wrong situations or at least somewhat emotionally understandable situations that lead them to prison.  Some of the situations and narrative tropes are just straight-up genre functions, which are the film’s weakest moments.  But Dassin’s cast is stellar, through and through, with all interesting faces, tough guys who are characters, and a knack for the action and violence that acts out the world of the prison.

Prison films aren’t a particular favorite of mine, but there is an interesting interview on this DVD with a film scholar who specializes in the genre and offers some good context for reading this film and considering others.  Lancaster is rock solid, with his pained expressions, you can read the bleakness right from his eyes.  And also, there is a tiny cameo by the stunning Ella Raines.

A solid and interesting film, not my favorite, but certainly calls for further viewing of Dassin’s oeuvre.

Rififi

Rififi (1955) movie poster

(1955) dir. Jules Dassin
viewed: 03/14/09

While I’ve been watching a number of French crime films of late, including Pépé le Moko (1937), Touchez pas au grisbi (1954), and Le Doulos (1962) among others, one of the noted Criterion Collection films that I had still in queue was director Jules Dassin’s Rififi.  Oddly enough, though this is indeed a French crime film, and even with as French a sounding name as Jules Dassin, Mr. Dassin himself was an American and made this film as an exile from the US after being investigated by the House of Un-American Activities and blacklisted.  I can only chalk up my ignorance to ignorance, since Dassin had made several notable film noir and/or American crime films before his blacklisting, including Brute Force (1947), The Naked City (1948), Thieves’ Highway (1949), and Night and the City (1950)…all of which have already been in my Netflix queue for some time.

Rififi may not be the “original” heist movie, but it is clearly a striking template for many, if not all heist films to come.  The jewel heist, perpetrated by a quartet of low-time criminals, is executed perfectly, staking out the jewelry store, casing the street, and negotiating the alarm systems.  And the quite stunning certerpiece is the heist itself, a 32-minute affair in which nary a word is spoken.  The thieves need to be silent, so without music and without speaking, the heist is pulled off, showing their teamwork and preparation.  I most recently saw this to an extent appropriated in The Bank Job (2008).  But you can definitely see the influence it worked on the films of Jean-Pierre Melville, most specifically in his heist film, Le Cercle rouge (1970).

Beyond the writing and directing of this film, Dassin’s first in French, Dassin also plays a great character part in the role of Cesar le Milanais, the safe-cracking specialist from Milan.  Oddly enough, I was really struck by this performance and character, not realizing that it was Dassin himself (sometimes ignorance can add to the experience — or at least change it dramatically).  He’s a charming Italian fellow who speaks very little French, “but understands everything”.  The character has great charm and is really quite wonderfully realized.

The film is shot in a gorgeous Paris of its day, but shot almost entirely on rainy days.  The streets are shining with rain, reflecting the lights against the black, while the skies are interminably gray.  But the city, while not depicted entirely for its beauty, is actually depicted beautifully.  From the back alley streets, to the semi-rural edges, the boulevards, the avenues, even the Arc de Triumphe shows up toward the end.  The camera sets the city distinctly in place, quite wonderfully.

Of course, it’s a crime caper, one filled with fatalism and a sense of the impossibility to effect that fate.  It fits well with the films that I mentioned above, but I am going to quickly queue up some more of Dassin’s films, push them to the top of the queue, that is.

Laura

Laura (1944) movie poster

(1944) dir. Otto Preminger
viewed: 03/04/09

One of the better noted Hollywood mystery films, and even referred to as Noir, I had long intended to get around to seeing Otto Preminger’s Laura.  But you know something?  It’s not that good.

Gene Tierney is gorgeous.  Dana Andrews isn’t bad.  And it’s got Vincent Price playing…a guy from Kentucky?

The whole thing is quite jam-packed with the standard-issue mystery tropes: the murder of a beautiful girl, suspects galore, a tough-talking detective, and a couple of plot twists thrown in for good measure.  But the whole thing is like a higher budget B-movie without the darkness or character that might have peppered the procedings with something fresh.

Clifton Webb’s character, an intellectual newspaper columnist whose ego is enlarged by his suposed wit, comes off as less than clever. Some of the plot twists have huge plausibility issues, and even the most dramatic moment, most dramatic image of the film, the beautiful girl who takes a shotgun blast to the face, is merely alluded to.  The tension and drama is just not there.  It’s kinda weak.

It’s not bad or terrible, honestly.  I mean, I expect more from a film like this.  I’ve seen much, much better.  It’s capable enough, but it is hard to fathom how a film like this has earned its critical pedigree in regards to other, far more interesting, far more clever, far more dark and mysterious films.

 

They Drive by Night

They Drive by Night (1940) movie poster

(1940) dir. Raoul Walsh
viewed: 01/26/09

I’ve been on a tear of old Warner Brothers features from the 1930′s and 1940′s, a fair amount of Humphrey Bogart and a solid amount of Raoul Walsh films.  This is the fourth Walsh film I’ve seen in the last 6 months.  How many more people do you know that can say that?  I watched High Sierra (1941), White Heat (1949), and The Thief of Bagdad (1924).  Of course, this film has most in common with High Sierra, coming a year before it and featuring Bogart just before he broke big.

In fact, this film is far more a George Raft and Ida Lupino flick.  And Lupino pretty much steals the show.  She has a noted hystrionic coo-coo crack-up toward the end of the film, but actually, the scene in which she decides to kill her husband is the film’s best.  The camera is on her face as she looks down at her drunken husband and the off-switch on the automobile.  In the long take, we see her look outwardly, getting the idea to murder him, then deciding to follow through.  It’s as good as noir, that sequence, big time.

The film is a little weird, starting out as more of a social realism film about two brothers who are truck drivers, having a hard time making the American dream come to them.  But about half-way through it becomes more of a crime film, quite a bit noirish, and contains probably the better parts of the film.  It’s an odd mixture, which is attributed to the way that the film was adapted and how it borrowed from another film its latter plot points.  It doesn’t matter a whole lot,…it’s pretty solid stuff.

Bogart is the smaller part, fourth-billed, just before he became a star in Walsh’s High Sierra.  Actually, those two flicks would be a good double-feature if you’re looking for one.  And George Raft actually sounds a lot as if he could have been Bogart’s brother.  Good Hollywood fare.

White Heat

White Heat (1949) movie poster

(1949) dir. Raoul Walsh
viewed: 11/23/08

My third gangster/noir installment for the day was White Heat with the brilliant James Cagney in one of his most notable roles, featuring another of the great lines and finales, “Made it, Ma! Top of the world!” as Cagney’s character Cody Jarrett stands atop a huge oil tank just before it explodes.  Hot stuff, indeed.

It’s a funny thing about finally coming around to seeing these classic films that are so filled with lines and scenes and performances that are widely recognizable from American culture all over the place.  How many people who haven’t ever seen a James Cagney movie who would at least be familiar with the aforementioned clip?  It’s strange, a familiarity mixed within the new.  Because I had never seen this film.  Much of it was brand new to me.

It’s more of an action film in some ways, more modern, in a sense, in its pacing and narrative, especially with the final caper, the police chase, and the shootout.  The complex portrayal of Cody and his mother is again so iconic, yet totally great.  There’s a lot of good stuff throughout but this takes the cake.

Again, I don’t think I’m as familiar with Cagney’s work as most people my age and older would be.  I don’t know that I’ve seen any of his major films.  Well, that will change.  I’ve got to see The Public Enemy (1931) now.  And there are quite a few others out there…I’ll have to see them too.