# 9 BORN TO KILL
"Your roots are down where mine are. I knew that the first time I saw you."
Helen Brent (Claire Trevor) has finalized her divorce in sunny Reno, Nevada. She settles her bill with Mrs. Kraft ( Esther Howard) and plans to spend her last night in Reno at a local casino before leaving for San Francisco the next morning.
At the end of Detour Al Roberts, the preeminent noir chump opined: "…fate or some mysterious force can put the finger on you or me for no good reason at all.” Born To Kill is a good example. Before Helen’s trip to the casino we were in a world of sunshine. Mrs. Kraft's boarding house is in a well kept middle class neighborhood where kids scoot down the sidewalk on their bikes. Helen Brent is a proper, well-mannered woman who lives in a lap of luxury and will soon marry a very rich man. (Fred played by Phillip Terry) But, it's all a façade. The viewer is being set-up for quick trip into the world of noir.
At the craps table she and Sam Wilde (Lawrence Tierney) exchange glances. Wilde projects an aura of sexuality, charisma and danger. He sees Laury Palmer (Isabell Jewell) who he dated and is another of Mrs. Kraft’s boarders, leave the casino with another man. Palmer takes her new beau to the house. He goes to the kitchen to make some drinks and Sam is waiting for him. They get into a fight. Tierney kills him and when Laury comes to investigate she too is murdered. We have traveled from the benign to the horrific and are introduced to a noir rara avis; the homme fatale.
At the end of Detour Al Roberts, the preeminent noir chump opined: "…fate or some mysterious force can put the finger on you or me for no good reason at all.” Born To Kill is a good example. Before Helen’s trip to the casino we were in a world of sunshine. Mrs. Kraft's boarding house is in a well kept middle class neighborhood where kids scoot down the sidewalk on their bikes. Helen Brent is a proper, well-mannered woman who lives in a lap of luxury and will soon marry a very rich man. (Fred played by Phillip Terry) But, it's all a façade. The viewer is being set-up for quick trip into the world of noir.
At the craps table she and Sam Wilde (Lawrence Tierney) exchange glances. Wilde projects an aura of sexuality, charisma and danger. He sees Laury Palmer (Isabell Jewell) who he dated and is another of Mrs. Kraft’s boarders, leave the casino with another man. Palmer takes her new beau to the house. He goes to the kitchen to make some drinks and Sam is waiting for him. They get into a fight. Tierney kills him and when Laury comes to investigate she too is murdered. We have traveled from the benign to the horrific and are introduced to a noir rara avis; the homme fatale.
Sam Wilde lives for the moment with no regard for possible ramifications and is as divorced from reality as Helen is to her ex-husband. When he returns to his apartment he tells his friend Marty Waterman (Elisha Cook, Jr )what he’s done. "You can't go around killing people whenever the notion strikes you,” Waterman admonishes, "It's not feasible." Wilde’s reply is a good indicator of his psychological makeup, "Well, why isn't it?" Cook advises Tierney to take the next train to San Francisco.
About the same time Cook is advising Tierney, Trevor returns to the boarding house and sees the battered bodies on the floor. She starts to dial the police but stops. She starts to walk up the stairs, stops, turns and phones for a reservation for the next train to San Francisco. She'll later explain to her step-sister Georgia (Audrey Long) that she did not want to get the family involved, and in fairness to Helen Brent, it's a decision many people might make especially for the inhabitants of noir. As luck, or fate, would have it, she waits for the same train as Sam Wilde. And voila! We have been witness to a wonderful Noir 101 example of a bad choice intersecting with fate, and from those dependable tropes noir films are made.
About the same time Cook is advising Tierney, Trevor returns to the boarding house and sees the battered bodies on the floor. She starts to dial the police but stops. She starts to walk up the stairs, stops, turns and phones for a reservation for the next train to San Francisco. She'll later explain to her step-sister Georgia (Audrey Long) that she did not want to get the family involved, and in fairness to Helen Brent, it's a decision many people might make especially for the inhabitants of noir. As luck, or fate, would have it, she waits for the same train as Sam Wilde. And voila! We have been witness to a wonderful Noir 101 example of a bad choice intersecting with fate, and from those dependable tropes noir films are made.
Sam sized up Trevor at the gaming table and continues to scope her out on their ride to San Francisco. Helen is not impervious to his charms.
When they arrive in San Francisco Helen suggests Wilde get a room at the Terrace Hotel. He asks if she likes it and without thinking says yes. Wilde smiles. Helen has taken the bait. To his offer of sharing a cab she declines saying, "No, I"m afraid not, we're going in different directions." But the predator has zeroed in on his prey: "That's where you're wrong,” he differs, "We're going in the same direction, you and I." Wilde has been chipping away at Brent's facade since they made eye contact at the casino. The remark about the hotel and her reaction knocked off a large block of that facade. That they are two sides from the same coin is a popular noir motif. Four films that immediately come to mind are Out of The Past, Pitfall, and Detour. Claire Trevor as Velma in Murder, My Sweet lets Marlowe know they're both a couple of mugs. Helen Brent puts on airs but Wilde knows they're two birds of the same feather.
When they arrive in San Francisco Helen suggests Wilde get a room at the Terrace Hotel. He asks if she likes it and without thinking says yes. Wilde smiles. Helen has taken the bait. To his offer of sharing a cab she declines saying, "No, I"m afraid not, we're going in different directions." But the predator has zeroed in on his prey: "That's where you're wrong,” he differs, "We're going in the same direction, you and I." Wilde has been chipping away at Brent's facade since they made eye contact at the casino. The remark about the hotel and her reaction knocked off a large block of that facade. That they are two sides from the same coin is a popular noir motif. Four films that immediately come to mind are Out of The Past, Pitfall, and Detour. Claire Trevor as Velma in Murder, My Sweet lets Marlowe know they're both a couple of mugs. Helen Brent puts on airs but Wilde knows they're two birds of the same feather.
My predilection for sub-plots is a big factor in how I compiled my list of best/favorite noirs . Two great examples are The Killing with Elisha Cook, Jr and Marie Windsor, and Night and The City with Francis L. Sullivan and Googie Withers. An effective sub-plot should enhance and add another layer to the film without taking away from the main story. Bubbling on the back burner behind the relationship between Helen Sam and Georgia is the search for Laury Palmer's killer. There are many detractors of the studio system (I'm not one) but it gave us scores of character actors ample opportunities to hone their craft, put food on the table and because of their near ubiquitousness add a preconceived familiarity for movie goers. Born To Kill gives us an all-star cast of character actors. Ms. Howard is the landlady who considered Laury a special friend. Elisha Cook, Jr. is Sam Wilde’s enabler and good buddy, and Walter Slezak does a yeoman's job as Albert Arnett the sleazy, amoral, cuddly teddy-bear of a detective whom Kraft randomly chose to find Laury's killer.
Mrs. Kraft's ineptness and incessant beer guzzling does little to advance her goal. For much of the film Mrs. Kraft is comic relief, even her struggle to save her life comes off as comedic. Only when confronted by the pure evil of Helen Brent does she change from a jovial, care-free bon vivant to a frightened, scared, weak and helpless old woman. Ms. Howard is a lonely, drunk who admits, "Laury was all I had, Laury and the bottle." The tandem of Ms. Howard and Walter Slezak give the film a false hint of comedy and joviality. But neither is what they appear. Slezak’s harmless teddy-bear persona masks a man who would not be above selling his own mother if it meant collecting a fee from a client.
Mrs. Kraft's ineptness and incessant beer guzzling does little to advance her goal. For much of the film Mrs. Kraft is comic relief, even her struggle to save her life comes off as comedic. Only when confronted by the pure evil of Helen Brent does she change from a jovial, care-free bon vivant to a frightened, scared, weak and helpless old woman. Ms. Howard is a lonely, drunk who admits, "Laury was all I had, Laury and the bottle." The tandem of Ms. Howard and Walter Slezak give the film a false hint of comedy and joviality. But neither is what they appear. Slezak’s harmless teddy-bear persona masks a man who would not be above selling his own mother if it meant collecting a fee from a client.
Marty Waterman fancies himself a friend and confidant of Sam Wilde, but is really no more than an obsequious toady. Wilde's idea of friendship is predicated upon others' subservience and Marty fits the bill. Cook puts in another great performance as someone who wants to play with the big boys yet is out of his league. No greater example of that is when he fumbles and bumbles in his attempt to kill Mrs. Kraft and is then easily dispatched by alpha Male Sam Wilde.
There is a strong inference of a physical relationship between the two. When Wilde returns from his double murder, Marty Waterman lies on one side of the bed and reads the paper. Tierney mopes a little then lies alongside him reticent to talk. Cook senses something is wrong. "If we're going to carry on a conversation," he says, ”then it would help for you to talk."
Tierney will later lay on the same side of the bed as Cook did when Wilde called him with news about his wedding to Georgia. If one really wants to read into things one might think Tierney is keeping Marty's side of the bed warm; if one wanted to really read into things that is. Later in the film Wilde sees Marty go into Helen’s room where he asks her not to interfere in Wilde's marriage. When Marty enters Sam's room Sam is lying in the middle of the bed keeping the bed all to himself. Marty who could easily sit on the edge of the bed chooses to sit close to Wilde and near the phone.
To those who say that it makes sense to lie closest to the phone I ask; why couldn't Director Wise have either of them sitting in a chair smoking a cigarette or reading near an end table with the phone nearby? That’s what Helen Brent was doing when Marty came to see her. Did Director Wise intimate more than a friendship between the two? A discussion of their relationship opens up more avenues of study if one was so inclined to do so. Maybe the book on which the film was based goes into more detail about Sam and Marty, who knows? It does make for an interesting side-bar in regard to the film. In my opinion; there was no hanky panky going on between the two.
There is a strong inference of a physical relationship between the two. When Wilde returns from his double murder, Marty Waterman lies on one side of the bed and reads the paper. Tierney mopes a little then lies alongside him reticent to talk. Cook senses something is wrong. "If we're going to carry on a conversation," he says, ”then it would help for you to talk."
Tierney will later lay on the same side of the bed as Cook did when Wilde called him with news about his wedding to Georgia. If one really wants to read into things one might think Tierney is keeping Marty's side of the bed warm; if one wanted to really read into things that is. Later in the film Wilde sees Marty go into Helen’s room where he asks her not to interfere in Wilde's marriage. When Marty enters Sam's room Sam is lying in the middle of the bed keeping the bed all to himself. Marty who could easily sit on the edge of the bed chooses to sit close to Wilde and near the phone.
To those who say that it makes sense to lie closest to the phone I ask; why couldn't Director Wise have either of them sitting in a chair smoking a cigarette or reading near an end table with the phone nearby? That’s what Helen Brent was doing when Marty came to see her. Did Director Wise intimate more than a friendship between the two? A discussion of their relationship opens up more avenues of study if one was so inclined to do so. Maybe the book on which the film was based goes into more detail about Sam and Marty, who knows? It does make for an interesting side-bar in regard to the film. In my opinion; there was no hanky panky going on between the two.
Albert Arnett, who bears an uncanny resemblance to the ever-grubbing, chow-hounding, hamburger eating Wimpy famous for his, "I'll gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today." from the Popeye cartoons,
comes across as a self-deprecating buffoon who shares a phone with the owner of the diner from whom he bums a meal. He laces his conversations with quotes from the classics and garners the affection of elderly women with platitudes. He is however a more than adequate detective. He surprises Esther Howard who balks at paying his large retainer fee by reminding her that she was bequeathed Laury Palmer's home . When Marty arrives in San Francisco Arnett is there and follows him to Sam and Georgia's wedding.
He finagles his way into the kitchen where he quizzes the maids about Sam Wilde. Helen kicks him out but her interest is piqued when she learns he has been asking about Sam. They arrange a meeting. The good detective has pertinent information that would be of great interest to her. It would also interest Mrs. Kraft, to whom he feels some obligation for she is his client. “I am man of integrity but," he assures her, "I'm always willing to listen to an interesting offer." He will give her first shot for his information with the caveat that if she is not interested he will give the info to Mrs. Kraft who in turn will give it to the police. Helen offers five thousand. Arnett counters with fifteen. “Obstructing the wheels of justice," he tells her, "is a costly affair." She says seven and he's firm on fifteen. Let me see: Arnett gets his phone calls at a diner along with an occasional meal, he has no office yet turns down seven thousand which is $81,000 in 2020. Why didn't he counter with ten thousand? She might have taken it. Anyway, he's shooting the moon on Miss Brent forking over the fifteen thousand. They walk away without a deal.
Arnett's amusing mannerisms and peculiarities mask an amoral man who would let a double murderer escape justice unless his price is met. As they leave he tells her: "Has it occurred to you that neither of us looks like a scoundrel?"
comes across as a self-deprecating buffoon who shares a phone with the owner of the diner from whom he bums a meal. He laces his conversations with quotes from the classics and garners the affection of elderly women with platitudes. He is however a more than adequate detective. He surprises Esther Howard who balks at paying his large retainer fee by reminding her that she was bequeathed Laury Palmer's home . When Marty arrives in San Francisco Arnett is there and follows him to Sam and Georgia's wedding.
He finagles his way into the kitchen where he quizzes the maids about Sam Wilde. Helen kicks him out but her interest is piqued when she learns he has been asking about Sam. They arrange a meeting. The good detective has pertinent information that would be of great interest to her. It would also interest Mrs. Kraft, to whom he feels some obligation for she is his client. “I am man of integrity but," he assures her, "I'm always willing to listen to an interesting offer." He will give her first shot for his information with the caveat that if she is not interested he will give the info to Mrs. Kraft who in turn will give it to the police. Helen offers five thousand. Arnett counters with fifteen. “Obstructing the wheels of justice," he tells her, "is a costly affair." She says seven and he's firm on fifteen. Let me see: Arnett gets his phone calls at a diner along with an occasional meal, he has no office yet turns down seven thousand which is $81,000 in 2020. Why didn't he counter with ten thousand? She might have taken it. Anyway, he's shooting the moon on Miss Brent forking over the fifteen thousand. They walk away without a deal.
Arnett's amusing mannerisms and peculiarities mask an amoral man who would let a double murderer escape justice unless his price is met. As they leave he tells her: "Has it occurred to you that neither of us looks like a scoundrel?"
Noir antagonists usually confine themselves within the same social sub-culture/outliers of the noir world. At least that's how it is among my top26. Raymond Chandler's adapted films, The Big Sleep, and Murder, My Sweet, are exceptions and conversely Scarlet Street. It's interesting that Helen Brent was by a stroke of good fortune cast into high society. Trevor's Velma Valento found her way into the upper levels of the social strata by another method. Both succumbed to a basic flaw in their persona and were cast from a paradise that wasn't meant for them. Chris Cross (Edward G. Robinson) moves from the world of respectability to that of the illicit and suffers for it in Scarlet Street. But for the greater part antagonists play in their own backyard. (another interesting and over-looked trope of film noir.)
Sam Wilde's marriage to Georgia has moved him up into the world of the elite. He's hit the jack pot. He has a beautiful wife, wealth and he's set for life. That's not enough. They're means to an end and the end is to have the power to hire and fire, make and break people, he wants to be the top man, the Big Kahuna. There are at least four times in the movie where Marty, who sees himself as logical and reality based, says 'it's not feasible." To Sam everything is feasible regardless how far fetched it might be. If we're trying to see a relationship between the two we might consider the story of Icarus. Marty is Daedalus Icarus's father. Instead of escaping the prison of Minos they try to escape their vagabond lives of poverty and want. When Sam, as Icarus did with his father, ignores Marty's warnings he too is destroyed.
Helen Brent brings to mind the adage of the person who wants her cake and eat it. She's akin to the dog with a bone in his mouth who sees his reflection in a pond. He wants the other dog's bone. When he grabs for what is the bone's reflection in the pond he loses what he already had secured. Helen had Fred, wanted Sam and In the end has neither.
Sam Wilde's marriage to Georgia has moved him up into the world of the elite. He's hit the jack pot. He has a beautiful wife, wealth and he's set for life. That's not enough. They're means to an end and the end is to have the power to hire and fire, make and break people, he wants to be the top man, the Big Kahuna. There are at least four times in the movie where Marty, who sees himself as logical and reality based, says 'it's not feasible." To Sam everything is feasible regardless how far fetched it might be. If we're trying to see a relationship between the two we might consider the story of Icarus. Marty is Daedalus Icarus's father. Instead of escaping the prison of Minos they try to escape their vagabond lives of poverty and want. When Sam, as Icarus did with his father, ignores Marty's warnings he too is destroyed.
Helen Brent brings to mind the adage of the person who wants her cake and eat it. She's akin to the dog with a bone in his mouth who sees his reflection in a pond. He wants the other dog's bone. When he grabs for what is the bone's reflection in the pond he loses what he already had secured. Helen had Fred, wanted Sam and In the end has neither.
Sam began his climb up the social ladder when he visited Helen at what he thought was her home but actually belonged to Georgia. Another blow for Sam is that Helen's fiance is there. His situation gets better when at Georgia’s insistence he is invited to join them for a night out.
He wastes no time in making a play at Helen. She rebuffs him. He's taken back. "Oh, I see. You'll cross the tracks Tuesday to May Day,” he says, “with a basket of goodies for the slum kid, but back you scoot and fast to your own high tone neck of the woods, don't you?" Sam is not the only one with class envy. Helen Brent is literally the red-headed step-child. Her position in life and financial survival is dependent upon the largess of her sister and the family estate. As Sam Wilde is making time with Georgia to set him for life, Helen is planning to marry Fred for the same reason.
After Sam's wedding to Georgia Helen sits alone in the large family library. Fred sees her upset. He takes her hands and they are cold to his touch. He wants to know what is wrong. She tells him that Sam is not in Georgia's class and he's not; he's in the same class as she. But we know that she is upset Helen is upset because Georgia, in addition to the money, the house, the family fortune, also has her man. Helen reveals her true feelings for Sam when they inadvertently meet one night in the kitchen. She admits to him that he offers excitement, adventure, and danger whereas Fred is security, comfort, and money. Helen is torn between the two emotions. But the ever helpful Sam is quick to resolve her dilemma.
"Your roots are down where mine are,” Sam tells her. “ I knew that the first time I saw you." Helen responds, "Soul mates, huh?" Soul mates indeed.
He wastes no time in making a play at Helen. She rebuffs him. He's taken back. "Oh, I see. You'll cross the tracks Tuesday to May Day,” he says, “with a basket of goodies for the slum kid, but back you scoot and fast to your own high tone neck of the woods, don't you?" Sam is not the only one with class envy. Helen Brent is literally the red-headed step-child. Her position in life and financial survival is dependent upon the largess of her sister and the family estate. As Sam Wilde is making time with Georgia to set him for life, Helen is planning to marry Fred for the same reason.
After Sam's wedding to Georgia Helen sits alone in the large family library. Fred sees her upset. He takes her hands and they are cold to his touch. He wants to know what is wrong. She tells him that Sam is not in Georgia's class and he's not; he's in the same class as she. But we know that she is upset Helen is upset because Georgia, in addition to the money, the house, the family fortune, also has her man. Helen reveals her true feelings for Sam when they inadvertently meet one night in the kitchen. She admits to him that he offers excitement, adventure, and danger whereas Fred is security, comfort, and money. Helen is torn between the two emotions. But the ever helpful Sam is quick to resolve her dilemma.
"Your roots are down where mine are,” Sam tells her. “ I knew that the first time I saw you." Helen responds, "Soul mates, huh?" Soul mates indeed.
I wondered if either were sociopaths or psychopaths. There are similar characteristics for both -paths. I thought a psychopath might be more prone to unprovoked acts of violence with violence being the over-riding passion of the individual. This person would be on the fringes of society and not able to fit in or blend in with the normal intercourse of everyday life. This off the cuff reasoning might be due to the Norman Bates character in Psycho.
The sociopath I thought was someone with violent tendencies but subjugates them as his main goal is to fit into 'normal' society with a skewed set of values, and a total lack of empathy. Below are the characteristics of both.
The sociopath I thought was someone with violent tendencies but subjugates them as his main goal is to fit into 'normal' society with a skewed set of values, and a total lack of empathy. Below are the characteristics of both.
Outward Behavior of a Psychopath
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Outward Behavior of a Sociopath
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Sam is a sociopath and Helen is a psychopath. I don't know if that makes them incompatible as say, a Leo with a Taurus.
We know little of Helen’s past that might have given us a clue why she turned out the way she did. Why did she get a divorce? Why was she adopted? Why, if raised as one of the family, was she cut out entirely from the will? Who knows? In the never ending argument over nature versus nurture as to why people are evil, nature wins out in this film. Helen and Sam were born to be bad.
It wouldn't be a noir without a double-cross, and it's hard to think of a bigger double cross than Helen marrying Fred with his millions and then carrying on an affair with Sam. Far fetched? Remember item 5 of the traits of a psychopath: "Psychopaths will take years to plan out acts of violence and revenge. They are very difficult to catch because they will carefully plan each step of the act to ensure they will commit their crime undetected." Her well laid plans are blown to kingdom come when Fred, who has seen her change since Georgia and Sam's wedding, (you can see his expression when he holds her listless cold hands in the family library) calls off their own wedding. He warns her that she won't always be able to land on her feet after every scrape.
She angrily over-reacts. Her reply is similar to Sam's outburst at the nightclub. "How dare you say those things to me," she says. "Who are you to be so smug and holier than thou?" She rails at him, "Are you so perfect that you can sneer at me?" Fred leaves and she knows there will be no chance of reconcilliation. Helen's anger turns to Sam who she feels is at fault and plots to double-cross him. She calls Arnett to say there is no deal, and lets him know where and when the police can find him.
All of her calculations, manipulations and well thought out plans are flushed down the toilet so she might as well double down on them. She tells Georgia she’s known for days Sam is a murderer and urges her to leave before the police arrive. She did not bargain Georgia would actually be in love with Sam and would stand by him. Perhaps Helen has never been in love, or is incapable of love. In a prime example of Murphy’s Law, Georgia promises to cut her off from all financial support. Helen’s next gambit is to double-cross Georgia and have Sam kill her. That doesn't work out very well either.
In film noirs the noir chump loses everything to the femme fatale. Born To Kill reverses that. It is Helen Brent who loses everything to the homme fatale.
It wouldn't be a noir without a double-cross, and it's hard to think of a bigger double cross than Helen marrying Fred with his millions and then carrying on an affair with Sam. Far fetched? Remember item 5 of the traits of a psychopath: "Psychopaths will take years to plan out acts of violence and revenge. They are very difficult to catch because they will carefully plan each step of the act to ensure they will commit their crime undetected." Her well laid plans are blown to kingdom come when Fred, who has seen her change since Georgia and Sam's wedding, (you can see his expression when he holds her listless cold hands in the family library) calls off their own wedding. He warns her that she won't always be able to land on her feet after every scrape.
She angrily over-reacts. Her reply is similar to Sam's outburst at the nightclub. "How dare you say those things to me," she says. "Who are you to be so smug and holier than thou?" She rails at him, "Are you so perfect that you can sneer at me?" Fred leaves and she knows there will be no chance of reconcilliation. Helen's anger turns to Sam who she feels is at fault and plots to double-cross him. She calls Arnett to say there is no deal, and lets him know where and when the police can find him.
All of her calculations, manipulations and well thought out plans are flushed down the toilet so she might as well double down on them. She tells Georgia she’s known for days Sam is a murderer and urges her to leave before the police arrive. She did not bargain Georgia would actually be in love with Sam and would stand by him. Perhaps Helen has never been in love, or is incapable of love. In a prime example of Murphy’s Law, Georgia promises to cut her off from all financial support. Helen’s next gambit is to double-cross Georgia and have Sam kill her. That doesn't work out very well either.
In film noirs the noir chump loses everything to the femme fatale. Born To Kill reverses that. It is Helen Brent who loses everything to the homme fatale.
In fine noir fashion lives are ruined and some are lost. The immoral Sam, Helen and Marty get their just desserts. Mrs. Kraft returns to Reno a beat and broken woman.
Fred loved Helen to the very end and leaves jaded and disillusioned. Georgia loses Helen and Sam. She believes Helen never loved her, and knows Sam never did. Only Arnett comes out unscathed. He is neither better off nor worse for what happened. He is neither immoral nor moral and as such was spit back to where he was before he took Mrs. Kraft as a client.
Fred loved Helen to the very end and leaves jaded and disillusioned. Georgia loses Helen and Sam. She believes Helen never loved her, and knows Sam never did. Only Arnett comes out unscathed. He is neither better off nor worse for what happened. He is neither immoral nor moral and as such was spit back to where he was before he took Mrs. Kraft as a client.
Helen Brent is a cold, heartless woman. She admits she did not call the police when Laury and her male friend were murdered as it would impact her family, and possibly put her upcoming marriage in jeopardy. She knows Sam is the prime suspect in the double murders and says nothing. She verifies Sam's alibi that he was with her while he was killing Marty. She visits Mrs. Kraft and warns her: "If you go to the police, you'll see Laury sooner than you think." The heretofore ebullient, joyful Mrs. Kraft is reduced to a sobbing, beaten, scared woman who whimpers, "Oh, Laury, I've failed you."
This was Tierney's high water mark as an actor. His under-playing was perfect for Sam Wilde. Wilde is a vicious, evil, sociopath who has lived a life where he got what he wanted through physical intimidation, charisma and sex appeal. When Helen asks Sam, "Do you even remember the number of women you've had?" He smirks, "And do you remember all your men?" Every time he lets her know she is more tramp than lady she submissively acknowledges his assertions. And why not, for as he once said, "Your roots are down where mine are. I knew that the first time I saw you." Soul mates indeed.
This was Tierney's high water mark as an actor. His under-playing was perfect for Sam Wilde. Wilde is a vicious, evil, sociopath who has lived a life where he got what he wanted through physical intimidation, charisma and sex appeal. When Helen asks Sam, "Do you even remember the number of women you've had?" He smirks, "And do you remember all your men?" Every time he lets her know she is more tramp than lady she submissively acknowledges his assertions. And why not, for as he once said, "Your roots are down where mine are. I knew that the first time I saw you." Soul mates indeed.
Born To Kill is at its core a B movie replete with B movie essentials. The plot is simple and easy to follow. The well developed sub-plot does not intrude into the film, and the characters involved all put in memorable performances. It runs for ninety-two minutes, but its directing, writing and acting are so good it seems shorter. The film clicks a lot of film noir boxes, especially some of my own personal preferences. Born To Kill is a fun watch which cannot be said for many of the higher budgeted and slicker film noirs. It is with no trepidation I rank this film in my top10 of favorite/best film noirs.