In Cold Blood.

Review #1426: In Cold Blood.

Cast: 
Robert Blake (Perry Smith), Scott Wilson (Dick Hickock), John Forsythe (Alvin Dewey), Paul Stewart (Jensen, the reporter), Gerald S. O'Loughlin (Harold Nye), Jeff Corey (Walter Hickock), John Gallaudet (Roy Church), James Flavin (Clarence Duntz), Charles McGraw (Tex Smith), Sammy Thurman (Flo Smith), Will Geer (Prosecuting attorney), John McLiam (Herbert Clutter), Ruth Storey (Bonnie Clutter), Brenda C. Currin (Nancy Clutter), and Paul Hough (Kenyon Clutter) Written, Produced, and Directed by Richard Brooks (#871 - Cat on a Hot Tin Roof and #1033 - Dollars)

Review: 
"If you’re thinking of getting into the movies, you better like it a whole lot. You better love making movies. Because it’s not easy--it’s not easy to make even a bad movie. You better be prepared to eat it, unsalted, because that’s the job of a movie maker. You better like it, because that’s what you’re going to have to do.”

The late 1960s were exactly a time for boundaries to be pushed further for film. Richard Brooks proved to be one of numerous directors that would bridge the gap between the studio system style of directing films and the growing independence (with some studio influence) of later years to make for a career of over 40 years of directing, writing, and producing. He had originally started work as a journalist and sports reporter before deciding to move to work in the theater and work on B-films. He also wrote novels as well, with The Brick Foxhole (1945, written while in the Marine Corps) being adapted as Crossfire (1947) being turned into a film. He moved to noir thriller not long after the war ended, helping to write works such as The Killers (1946) and Key Largo (1948) before given a chance to direct with alongside write with Crisis (1950). He would do 24 films in total as director (with the ones after Cat on a Hot Tin Roof being done independently after leaving MGM), with highlights including Blackboard Jungle (1955), Elmer Gantry (1960), and The Professionals (1966). Even early in his career he received respect, being described by French magazine Cahiers du Cinema as a "rebel" American auteur filmmaker, who believed that telling and doing a story was most important (stating that directing, editing, and scoring was writing). This went hand in hand with his reputation as a hard-as-nails man of his work who was prone to outbursts of anger, even when he became producer of his films (six of his last nine were produced by him including this one). On one of his films, he gathered the crew on their first day and told them that while they may have their own ideas and contributions about how to make it improved, they should keep it to themselves since it is was going to be done his way as "his fucking movie".

This was adapted from the novel of the same name by Truman Capote, who wrote what he labeled a "non-fiction novel" (being one of the first works to be associated with that genre) over the span of six years (while accompanied by friend Harper Lee) that detailed the 1959 murders of the Clutter family in Holcomb, Kansas that that had a triple narrative that jumped around the lives of the killers, the family, and the other members of the rural community (two films were subsequently made involving Capote's experience with writing the book in Capote and Infamous). The film strives for realism right down to the locations, since the sites of the actual crime in Kansas were used for a good deal of filming, most notably with the Clutter home (although the state penitentiary scenes were not allowed to be filmed in the prison, so sets were used instead). One noted difference between the novel and film was the adding of a reporter character to the proceedings, no doubt inspired by Capote (who went to Kansas after hearing about the murders to cover the manhunt and do interviews, where he eventually formed a bond with Smith). They even had some of the original jurors from the trial appear for the film. The attention to detail, combined with a documentary-style cinematography from Conrad Hall makes for a highly effective film. Brooks was firm in his intent to not have big stars play the main characters, feeling that it would be a distraction (Columbia Pictures originally wanted Steve McQueen and Paul Newman, for example). Blake was a child star who had grown up to less known roles as an adult while Wilson was in only his second ever film role, recommended by Sidney Poitier and Quincy Jones (who both worked with Wilson earlier with In the Heat of the Night). Blake proves the best performance of the whole group, one riddled with creeping conviction that lures you into a world of darkness as a brutal contradiction that creeps under the surface until the climatic flashback, with his conversation about his father in the rain sequence (where it looks like tears that stays on his face) being a somber highlight. Wilson captures dark charm that fits the other side of the crazed coin with an impulsive nature that seems likes a ticking time bomb, whether that means trying to lure someone into a trap or force their way through street senses. Forsythe (known for his television work) delivers quality as the real-life authority figure, while Stewart (a portrayer of often sinister and cynical characters in film, television, stage, and radio) delivers cynicism like a Greek chorus (which Capote took exception to) that observes the pursuit with eventual narration that contrasts him with everyone else, particularly since he is the one to ponder over the events that have occurred with the film after it closes, and the other members of the cast do well whenever there is some focus on them (such as Corey and McGraw each talking about how they tried to raise their kid). The film balances its narratives with care that builds to its violent action near the end with key amounts of darkness and shock (likely better than if it had just been shown in the first half), with a message that mostly hits its mark in the end, depending on how one feels about the death penalty. On the whole, this is a efficient film, filled with detail and execution with devastating lead performances and a 134 minute run-time that makes for a creeping experience that packs a punch after five decades as a gem of realism and a study of human nature.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Kiss Me Deadly.

Review #1389: Kiss Me Deadly.

Cast: 
Ralph Meeker (Mike Hammer), Albert Dekker (Dr. G.E. Soberin), Paul Stewart (Carl Evello), Juano Hernandez (Eddie Yeager), Wesley Addy (Lt. Pat Murphy), Maxine Cooper (Velda), Cloris Leachman (Christina Bailey), Gaby Rodgers (Gabrielle/Lilly Carver), Nick Dennis (Nick), Jack Lambert (Sugar Smallhouse), and Jack Elam (Charlie Max) Produced and Directed by Robert Aldrich (#105 - What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? and #778 - The Longest Yard, and #1014 - The Dirty Dozen)

Review: 
"The power is for the director to do what he wants to do. To achieve that he needs his own cutter, he needs his cameraman, he needs his own assistant and a strong voice in his choice of writer; a very, very strong voice on who's the actor. He needs the power not to be interfered with and the power to make the movie as he sees it."

A director can come from anywhere if their heart is set on it. The descendant of prominent family members of wealth and society, Robert Aldrich found himself with plenty of pressure to succeed in the line of other Aldriches before him, with his father being a newspaper publisher while others had served in office or in war. He attended both Yale and the University of Virginia, but he found himself at odds with his family when it came to his beliefs that were less focused on wealth and money than his family was, particularly with the advent of the New Deal in lieu of the Great Depression. He dropped out of studying economics for a chance at working at RKO Radio Pictures as a production clerk at the age of 23, which resulted in him being disinherited. From this, he would work his way up to positions higher up such as associate directing and producing to writing and directing for television (which he viewed as a crash course for directors in terms of rushed schedules). He worked for a variety of directors for a decade such as Lewis Milestone, Robert Rossen, Charlie Chaplin, and Jean Renoir, learning from their strengths and weaknesses about the fundamentals of filmmaking. In 1953, at the age of 35, Aldrich made his directorial feature debut with Big Leaguer, a low-budget baseball movie that he felt was good, but not what he wanted to express in the film medium. Aldrich found his next effort more to his interest with World for Ransom the following year, and he soon found himself hired by Burt Lancaster for two Westerns in Apache and Vera Cruz (1954), with the relative success of those films helping in him forming his own company in The Associates and Aldrich. In total, the fiercely independent and rambunctious Aldrich would direct 29 total films before his death in 1983 at the age of 65, having a rapid work pace that was equaled with his constant use of crew members like editor Michael Luciano or composer Frank De Vol for several of his films.

It probably isn't a surprise that certain types of people felt this film was a menace to juveniles in terms of delinquency, which was the case of one government commission. Of course the material the film was adapted from attracted its own kind of attention for its violent content (which led to trouble in adapting the generally cold-blooded killer detective to the screen acceptable for the standards of the time) for its hardboiled character of Mike Hammer, which Mickey Spillane featured in thirteen novels over the course of 49 years. The film was an adaptation of the novel of the same name, which was the sixth of thirteen novels (with the series continuing after the author's death in 2006). This was the second of three Spillane novels to be turned into a film in this decade (the other two being I, the Jury and My Gun is Quick). The writing for the film was done by A.I. Bezzerides, who changed the novel's adversary of Mafia gangsters while also adding the nuclear suitcase aspect (as opposed to the pursuit of certain substances in the book) along with changing the occupation of the private eye to divorce case P.I, with Bezzerides noting that he wrote the script with contempt and quickness, which apparently did not sit well with Spillane. In any case, this is a wonderful film noir, filled with plenty of intrigue and tension with a dynamite cast and execution from Aldrich and cinematographer Ernest Laszlo. Meeker leads the film with cynical conviction, a blunt instrument of macho nature that fits the film's maze of brutality. The rest of the cast follow along in varying levels of principle that range from the cleverly understated Rodgers to the hard-line authority in Addy to the careful menace of Dekker. Of note is the debut of Broadway-turned-television actress Cloris Leachman, who appears for the first couple of minutes in a key role that sticks out in panic. In any case, one finds themselves swept up in the film in its path, whether that means having our lead break a record or hurt someone's fingers or even when it comes to explaining the mysterious glowing whatsit. By the time one has spent 106 minutes with the film, you will find yourself electrified by a film that lands most of its punches with precision and paranoia that makes for an explosive climax, which has thankfully been restored in recent years (for decades, the film abruptly ended on a shot of the burning house that made it look like the lead had died looking around the house as opposed to ending on the beach). On the whole, this is a fine gem in Aldrich's body of work that stands today as a neat noir for a prime decade of thrills and paranoia for audiences to gaze upon.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.