#16 THE KILLING
"Johnny, you've got to run."
"Yeah. What's the difference?"
"Yeah. What's the difference?"
The Killing is considered one of the best of all heist films. The heist is as fundamental to a crime film as a three chord progression is to a rock song. When the heist is the dominant focus of the film then its planning, execution along with the inevitable after effects are what matters most. The noir comes from other portions of the story.
The Killing almost flawlessly interweaves two story lines. Along with the heist is a top notch noir. It has a femme fatale, a chump, murders, double-crosses, intimidating psychopaths, great dialogue and fantastic cinematography. In the films Criss-Cross and White Heat. the heist is secondary to the story lines of Lancaster/DeCarlo and Cagney/Ma. The same could be said for The Killing where the relationship between Cook,Jr/Windsor supply the film with its noir credentials.
Kubrick fails to develop the minor characters as Huston did in The Asphalt Jungle and Siodmak in, Criss Cross and The Killers. With the exceptions of James Edwards and Tim Carey, the supporting actors come across as cardboard characters. There is no greater example of this than Coleen Gray as Johnny Clay’s (Sterling Hayden) love interest.
The Killing almost flawlessly interweaves two story lines. Along with the heist is a top notch noir. It has a femme fatale, a chump, murders, double-crosses, intimidating psychopaths, great dialogue and fantastic cinematography. In the films Criss-Cross and White Heat. the heist is secondary to the story lines of Lancaster/DeCarlo and Cagney/Ma. The same could be said for The Killing where the relationship between Cook,Jr/Windsor supply the film with its noir credentials.
Kubrick fails to develop the minor characters as Huston did in The Asphalt Jungle and Siodmak in, Criss Cross and The Killers. With the exceptions of James Edwards and Tim Carey, the supporting actors come across as cardboard characters. There is no greater example of this than Coleen Gray as Johnny Clay’s (Sterling Hayden) love interest.
Coleen Gray's talents weren't close to being utilized in this film. We see her early when she and Johnny have finished making love. He's helping her dress much as a parent would a child. She gives us some background information about their relationship. There is little tenderness or depth to her delivery (contrast this to Gray's performance in Nightmare Alley). They come across as perfunctory background information which may have been the director's intent. It's a pity her character is never fully developed. When Jay C. Flippen arrives she leaves to attend to whatever business it is women have to attend to when men talk matters of serious importance. We don't see her until the end at the airport. Not so with Hayden’s love interest in, The Asphalt Jungle(a movie by the way where there are no cardboard characters) Jean Hagen's demonstrable love for Clay is one reason why the finale of TAJ is one of the most poignant in all of films.
There were several aspects of the heist story line I felt were problematical. The narration is excessively expository and adds nothing to the film. Kubrick strongly opposed it but the geniuses at the studio wanted it in. The nuisance could have been mitigated had the narration been done by the protagonist, or perhaps even Gray, either would have given the film a noir feel to it. Instead we get a neutral narrator and it comes across like a police procedural.
The narration takes away from Kubrick's effort to connect the plan through quick snippets. It starts with the horse race, then a quick exchange with Joe Sawyer and Jay C. Flippen. We get more detail when Ted DeCorsia meets with his bookie then to Johnny Clay, the brain behind the plan, until finally we connect with George and Sherry and everything is totally spelled out. Kubrick slowly gives the audience one morsel of info after another until everything is explained. The narration does not let it happen. Stan had every reason to be upset.
Kubrick enlisted chess buddy /wrestler Kola Kwariani to precipitate the disturbance that will let Clay into the counting room. However his thick accent makes him difficult to understand. This is a shame for Kola has a lot of good lines that deserve to be easily understood (Where was Mike Mazurki when you need him?) Clay dispels Kola’s worry of spending time in jail by telling him that if he gets arrested the most he could get would be sixty days for disorderly conduct. On the day of the heist Kola goes above and beyond the job description.
Incredulous moments, suspension(s) of disbelief are part and parcel of watching of a film. The Killing has Johnny Clay's choice of luggage:
There could be a reason for the poor choice in luggage. Kola had gone on a philosophical rant at the chess club, and when done asked Johnny what he thought. Johnny responded with, "Huh?" There is no doubt to Clay's charisma and his leadership qualities but as Kola says, "Oh, Johnny, my friend, you never were very bright... but I love you anyway." Johnny not being very bright could explain the luggage situation and it could explain his "indispensable" legal advice to Kola and Nikki.
Clay tells Kola he has to take care of six race track security guards, and the most he can get is sixty days. Say what? Assault and battery=sixty days? When Clay lets Nikki know he has to kill a horse, he also is worried about jail time. Clay reassures him: "And there's one more thing - Suppose by accident you do get picked up. What've you done? You shot a horse. It isn't first-degree murder. In fact, it isn't even murder. In fact, I don't know what it is. But the chances are, the best they could get you on would be, uh, inciting a riot... or shooting horses out of season." Yeah, that's the ticket. Shooting horses out of season. Sign me up, Pops.
Add in the scene where Johnny draws a lay-out of the heist on a paper bag, it's apparent that despite his nerves of steel, fearlessness, charisma and toughness he cannot see the small details. It is a reason why those he ran with were not, 'criminals in the usual way, since they all have jobs.' Professional criminals would certainly have questioned his authority.
The heist portion is only okay. At times this segment of the film seems as an afterthought but not so the scenes in the apartments. Kubrick is meticulous when it comes to their cinematography and composition.
There were several aspects of the heist story line I felt were problematical. The narration is excessively expository and adds nothing to the film. Kubrick strongly opposed it but the geniuses at the studio wanted it in. The nuisance could have been mitigated had the narration been done by the protagonist, or perhaps even Gray, either would have given the film a noir feel to it. Instead we get a neutral narrator and it comes across like a police procedural.
The narration takes away from Kubrick's effort to connect the plan through quick snippets. It starts with the horse race, then a quick exchange with Joe Sawyer and Jay C. Flippen. We get more detail when Ted DeCorsia meets with his bookie then to Johnny Clay, the brain behind the plan, until finally we connect with George and Sherry and everything is totally spelled out. Kubrick slowly gives the audience one morsel of info after another until everything is explained. The narration does not let it happen. Stan had every reason to be upset.
Kubrick enlisted chess buddy /wrestler Kola Kwariani to precipitate the disturbance that will let Clay into the counting room. However his thick accent makes him difficult to understand. This is a shame for Kola has a lot of good lines that deserve to be easily understood (Where was Mike Mazurki when you need him?) Clay dispels Kola’s worry of spending time in jail by telling him that if he gets arrested the most he could get would be sixty days for disorderly conduct. On the day of the heist Kola goes above and beyond the job description.
Incredulous moments, suspension(s) of disbelief are part and parcel of watching of a film. The Killing has Johnny Clay's choice of luggage:
- He's going to put two million dollars of cash in a suitcase not fit for transporting clothes to the Salvation Army.
- The lock broke when he tried to shut the suitcase .
- He's shoving money from the duffel bag into the suitcase where the wind is blowing away hundreds of dollars.
- The good part is we know exactly what is going to happen. The when and how are the questions.
There could be a reason for the poor choice in luggage. Kola had gone on a philosophical rant at the chess club, and when done asked Johnny what he thought. Johnny responded with, "Huh?" There is no doubt to Clay's charisma and his leadership qualities but as Kola says, "Oh, Johnny, my friend, you never were very bright... but I love you anyway." Johnny not being very bright could explain the luggage situation and it could explain his "indispensable" legal advice to Kola and Nikki.
Clay tells Kola he has to take care of six race track security guards, and the most he can get is sixty days. Say what? Assault and battery=sixty days? When Clay lets Nikki know he has to kill a horse, he also is worried about jail time. Clay reassures him: "And there's one more thing - Suppose by accident you do get picked up. What've you done? You shot a horse. It isn't first-degree murder. In fact, it isn't even murder. In fact, I don't know what it is. But the chances are, the best they could get you on would be, uh, inciting a riot... or shooting horses out of season." Yeah, that's the ticket. Shooting horses out of season. Sign me up, Pops.
Add in the scene where Johnny draws a lay-out of the heist on a paper bag, it's apparent that despite his nerves of steel, fearlessness, charisma and toughness he cannot see the small details. It is a reason why those he ran with were not, 'criminals in the usual way, since they all have jobs.' Professional criminals would certainly have questioned his authority.
The heist portion is only okay. At times this segment of the film seems as an afterthought but not so the scenes in the apartments. Kubrick is meticulous when it comes to their cinematography and composition.
AT HOME WITH THE PEATTYS
"I'm gonna have it, Sherry. Hundreds of thousands, maybe a half a million."
"Of course you are, darling. Did you put the right address on the envelope when you sent it to the North Pole?"
"Of course you are, darling. Did you put the right address on the envelope when you sent it to the North Pole?"
The lynchpin of the movie is the story line with Elisha Cook, Jr (George Peatty) and Marie Windsor (Sherry Peatty). This is where the noir hits the film so to speak.
Kubrick quickly addresses their incongruous relationship, especially the striking difference in physical stature between the two love birds in their first scene together. To George's question as why she married him, Sherry says it was because she believed his promises of striking it rich and, sarcastically adding, buying her a car for every day of the week. I’m not totally buying it. She’s heard it all before and from better prospects than George.
We’ve seen before where a woman feels a wedding ring is essential to fit in with societal conformity, and I think that is the case with Sherry. Stella (Linda Darnell) in, Fallen Angel insists upon a wedding ring as a non-negotiable bargaining chip to having a serious relationship that will end in marriage. Lucy Chapman (Dorothy Green) tells us in, The Big Heat all that separates her, a B-girl, from the respectable detective’s wife Bertha Duncan,(Jeanette Nolan) is a wedding ring. The same point is reinforced when the unmarried Gloria Grahame, who is a much more decent person tells the detestable, yet socially acceptable Bertha Duncan, ‘We’re sisters under the mink.”
Kubrick makes sure that the disparity in their physical stature does not distract from the film. With one exception he does not have them stand close to each other. When they are in the same scene they are apart from each other which mitigates their height difference. Often she does not stand at all. When Sherry reclines in bad, Cook sits up alongside her so both are eye to eye. When she moves to the other side of the room to put on makeup, George waits in the background then sits next to her and they are at eye level again. On the day of the heist he stands on one side of the kitchen table while she sits at the opposite side and munches on what is probably dry toast, weak coffee and over done eggs done over easy. Neither are shown together in their final scene where George confronts her. He stands by the door with a face full of buckshot and she stands by the bed packing to leave. In lesser hands the unlikely pairing of George and Sherry could have turned into a cheap sight gag. An example of this is Percy Helton and Beverly Michaels in, Wicked Woman.
Kubrick quickly addresses their incongruous relationship, especially the striking difference in physical stature between the two love birds in their first scene together. To George's question as why she married him, Sherry says it was because she believed his promises of striking it rich and, sarcastically adding, buying her a car for every day of the week. I’m not totally buying it. She’s heard it all before and from better prospects than George.
We’ve seen before where a woman feels a wedding ring is essential to fit in with societal conformity, and I think that is the case with Sherry. Stella (Linda Darnell) in, Fallen Angel insists upon a wedding ring as a non-negotiable bargaining chip to having a serious relationship that will end in marriage. Lucy Chapman (Dorothy Green) tells us in, The Big Heat all that separates her, a B-girl, from the respectable detective’s wife Bertha Duncan,(Jeanette Nolan) is a wedding ring. The same point is reinforced when the unmarried Gloria Grahame, who is a much more decent person tells the detestable, yet socially acceptable Bertha Duncan, ‘We’re sisters under the mink.”
Kubrick makes sure that the disparity in their physical stature does not distract from the film. With one exception he does not have them stand close to each other. When they are in the same scene they are apart from each other which mitigates their height difference. Often she does not stand at all. When Sherry reclines in bad, Cook sits up alongside her so both are eye to eye. When she moves to the other side of the room to put on makeup, George waits in the background then sits next to her and they are at eye level again. On the day of the heist he stands on one side of the kitchen table while she sits at the opposite side and munches on what is probably dry toast, weak coffee and over done eggs done over easy. Neither are shown together in their final scene where George confronts her. He stands by the door with a face full of buckshot and she stands by the bed packing to leave. In lesser hands the unlikely pairing of George and Sherry could have turned into a cheap sight gag. An example of this is Percy Helton and Beverly Michaels in, Wicked Woman.
A noir should have a double-crossing dame, for as we all know there's nothing worse than a double-crossing dame. Sherry has been two-timing George by having an affair with the young, virile Val (Vince Edwards). He doesn't hide from her that he's seeing other women and couldn't care less if she stays or goes. When she throws herself at him he puts her down by calling her Mrs. Peatty. He does to her what she does to George and just as George offered promises of money to keep her she intends to do the same with Val. That brings in another noir element. Greed is at the forefront of the Cook,Jr/Windsor sub-plot. The crew in the heist don't appear to be greedy. They're amiable when it comes to sharing the money even with Unger (Jay C. Flippen). Magnanimity, however is not one of Val's strong suits.
Val’s not happy having some of the money, he wants it all. His greed makes what should have been a fairly simple robbery of a chump turn into a risky proposition. Sherry only wanted Val to rob George but probably wouldn't have minded if an accident, or worse, happened to her better half during the robbery. Sherry and Val are vicious, greedy and possess no redeemable qualities. They are as mean a pair as Lawrence Tierney and Claire Trevor in, Born To Kill. Kubrick checks off a lot of noir staples in Sherry’s scenes with George and Val, buttressed by top notch cinematography.
The Killing was the first time Kubrick worked with a cinematographer, and like the inclusion of a narrator, was not his choice. Lucien Ballard had decades of experience and was well respected. That, however, was not the reason he was hired. "... Lucien Ballard was hired because Kubrick was officially working on a film union production... which meant he could not be both director and cinematographer, as he had been in the past. The two often did not agree on camera and lighting matters. Relations between them became so strained that Ballard stopped going to the dailies."
Anyone who saw, Killers Kiss, would know the apartment scenes in, The Killing, were heavily influenced, if not done in toto by Kubrick. It's ironic that having worked in New York his union problems would happen in Los Angeles. He probably didn't know the right people to call.
Val’s not happy having some of the money, he wants it all. His greed makes what should have been a fairly simple robbery of a chump turn into a risky proposition. Sherry only wanted Val to rob George but probably wouldn't have minded if an accident, or worse, happened to her better half during the robbery. Sherry and Val are vicious, greedy and possess no redeemable qualities. They are as mean a pair as Lawrence Tierney and Claire Trevor in, Born To Kill. Kubrick checks off a lot of noir staples in Sherry’s scenes with George and Val, buttressed by top notch cinematography.
The Killing was the first time Kubrick worked with a cinematographer, and like the inclusion of a narrator, was not his choice. Lucien Ballard had decades of experience and was well respected. That, however, was not the reason he was hired. "... Lucien Ballard was hired because Kubrick was officially working on a film union production... which meant he could not be both director and cinematographer, as he had been in the past. The two often did not agree on camera and lighting matters. Relations between them became so strained that Ballard stopped going to the dailies."
Anyone who saw, Killers Kiss, would know the apartment scenes in, The Killing, were heavily influenced, if not done in toto by Kubrick. It's ironic that having worked in New York his union problems would happen in Los Angeles. He probably didn't know the right people to call.
There is controversy regarding who wrote what. Kubrick gets credit for the screenplay and Jim Thompson the dialogue. There is a strong case to be made to support Thompson's assertion he was cheated out of full credit for the film. You can read about that and more here. Thompson had every right to be upset. The brilliant dialogue is bereft of the wise-cracks, and banter that presumes wit, or snappy dialogue often inserted into a detective/crime story as de rigeur of the genre.
When it comes to noir-type of dialogue, one would be hard pressed to find any better than what we hear in the apartment scenes, especially those from Marie Windsor. Her non-nonchalant, disinterested retorts to Cook, and later Hayden, resonate with ennui, frustration, and bitterness. It would be hard to find better dialogue written for, and delivered by, a femme fatale than in, The Killing.
It's no coincidence that Cook is in three of my top 25. He is perfect as the eager to please, jealous, often obsequious loser pushed to the point of murder. He may play the poor chump in this, Born To Kill and The Maltese Falcon, but he gives each poor soul their own unique characterization. Their first scene neatly explains their unlikely relationship; George's uncertainty about his wife, and his desire to keep her at all costs.
Windsor's body language doesn't mask her disdain for George, and her retorts, recited as if reading ingredients from a recipe, are especially damaging to his self-esteem, or lack of, by her indifferent attitude. From the very beginning she doesn't give him a chance. When George tries to tell her about a couple on the subway she interrupts and ridicules him:
"I saw somethin' kinda nice comin' home on the train tonight.
Somethin', well, kinda sweet."
"A candy bar, George?"
"No, a doughnut."
"It would make a difference, wouldn't it? If I had money, I mean."
"How would you define money, George? If you're thinkin' of giving me your collection of Roosevelt dimes."
"You've never been a liar, George. You don't have enough imagination to lie."
Sherry has no anger, no bitterness, there is only resignation and a who care's I've heard it before attitude, and she's waiting for him to finish so she can meet Val.
She exchanges these bon mots with Sterling Hayden:
"All right, sister, that's a mighty pretty head you've got on your shoulders. You wanna keep it there, or do you wanna start carrying it around in your hands?"
"Maybe we could compromise and put it on your shoulder. - I think that'd be nice, don't you?"
"What were you doing outside that door?"
" Doing? I was listening, naturally. Trying to, I should say."
"Oh, you admit it? You admit you were out there snooping? "
"Yes. Wasn't that naughty of me? But I'm afraid I was. "
"You don't know me very well."
"I know you like a book. You're a no good, nosy little tramp. You'd sell out your own mother for a piece of fudge."
And so it goes for the entire length of the movie.
When it comes to noir-type of dialogue, one would be hard pressed to find any better than what we hear in the apartment scenes, especially those from Marie Windsor. Her non-nonchalant, disinterested retorts to Cook, and later Hayden, resonate with ennui, frustration, and bitterness. It would be hard to find better dialogue written for, and delivered by, a femme fatale than in, The Killing.
It's no coincidence that Cook is in three of my top 25. He is perfect as the eager to please, jealous, often obsequious loser pushed to the point of murder. He may play the poor chump in this, Born To Kill and The Maltese Falcon, but he gives each poor soul their own unique characterization. Their first scene neatly explains their unlikely relationship; George's uncertainty about his wife, and his desire to keep her at all costs.
Windsor's body language doesn't mask her disdain for George, and her retorts, recited as if reading ingredients from a recipe, are especially damaging to his self-esteem, or lack of, by her indifferent attitude. From the very beginning she doesn't give him a chance. When George tries to tell her about a couple on the subway she interrupts and ridicules him:
"I saw somethin' kinda nice comin' home on the train tonight.
Somethin', well, kinda sweet."
"A candy bar, George?"
"No, a doughnut."
"It would make a difference, wouldn't it? If I had money, I mean."
"How would you define money, George? If you're thinkin' of giving me your collection of Roosevelt dimes."
"You've never been a liar, George. You don't have enough imagination to lie."
Sherry has no anger, no bitterness, there is only resignation and a who care's I've heard it before attitude, and she's waiting for him to finish so she can meet Val.
She exchanges these bon mots with Sterling Hayden:
"All right, sister, that's a mighty pretty head you've got on your shoulders. You wanna keep it there, or do you wanna start carrying it around in your hands?"
"Maybe we could compromise and put it on your shoulder. - I think that'd be nice, don't you?"
"What were you doing outside that door?"
" Doing? I was listening, naturally. Trying to, I should say."
"Oh, you admit it? You admit you were out there snooping? "
"Yes. Wasn't that naughty of me? But I'm afraid I was. "
"You don't know me very well."
"I know you like a book. You're a no good, nosy little tramp. You'd sell out your own mother for a piece of fudge."
And so it goes for the entire length of the movie.
A good noir needs a great ending. The last two scenes with Elisha Cook, Jr. are as good as it gets. It starts with Val and Buddy (Joe Turkel) breaking into Unger's apartment where the crew are waiting for Johnny. Val asks, "Where's the jerk? Where's George?" George comes out from the back room and starts a shootout that lasts eight seconds, with seven shots fired and five dead. The camera switches to George's P.O.V. as he leaves the apartment and staggers home.
There are two denouments in this film. We get a good idea what's going to happen to the money once we see that raggedy suitcase. It's like the bomb in, Saboteur, we know it's going to explode, but don't know when and where. The other is when George shoots Sherry. It's a masterful combination of Kubrick's cinematographic magic and Thompson's great dialogue. Even at this point she's not giving George any slack. The last scene at the apartment is one to be appreciated.
"I - I'm sick, Sherry. I -"
"Call an ambulance. The door's behind you. Take a cab."
"I love you, Sherry. "
"George, you better go on and go. You look terrible."
Check out the clips below. Marie Windsor is so gosh darn good! She plays poor George like Heifetz plays a Stradivarius. She's got the poor, poor pitiful me routine down pat. And when she's caught snooping Sherry doesn't let one insult rattle her. Check out her reaction when Clay tells her she's smart right after saying she'd sell out her Ma for a piece of fudge. Both clips also give great samples of Kubrick's brilliant cinematography.
There are two denouments in this film. We get a good idea what's going to happen to the money once we see that raggedy suitcase. It's like the bomb in, Saboteur, we know it's going to explode, but don't know when and where. The other is when George shoots Sherry. It's a masterful combination of Kubrick's cinematographic magic and Thompson's great dialogue. Even at this point she's not giving George any slack. The last scene at the apartment is one to be appreciated.
"I - I'm sick, Sherry. I -"
"Call an ambulance. The door's behind you. Take a cab."
"I love you, Sherry. "
"George, you better go on and go. You look terrible."
Check out the clips below. Marie Windsor is so gosh darn good! She plays poor George like Heifetz plays a Stradivarius. She's got the poor, poor pitiful me routine down pat. And when she's caught snooping Sherry doesn't let one insult rattle her. Check out her reaction when Clay tells her she's smart right after saying she'd sell out her Ma for a piece of fudge. Both clips also give great samples of Kubrick's brilliant cinematography.
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The members of the group have a cordial relationship with Johnny. It's what ever Johnny wants is fine with them. Should Johnny suggest they jump off a bridge as part of the heist, they're apt to say, 'Sounds crazy, but Johnny knows what he's doing." Their acquiescence robs the 'heist' portion of any potential conflict or contentiousness.
The exception is Tim Carey as Nikki. Carey, to be polite, is volatile, eccentric, and off the wall in almost all of his films with an off-screen persona to match. There is always a hint of danger when Carey makes the scene. Clay visits Nikki's shack to enlist his aid and tells him of the plan. He's far from impressed. He dismissively addresses Clay as, "Pops" and questions Johnny's plan.
The exception is Tim Carey as Nikki. Carey, to be polite, is volatile, eccentric, and off the wall in almost all of his films with an off-screen persona to match. There is always a hint of danger when Carey makes the scene. Clay visits Nikki's shack to enlist his aid and tells him of the plan. He's far from impressed. He dismissively addresses Clay as, "Pops" and questions Johnny's plan.
TIM CAREY MAKES THE SCENE
The above photo is one example of Kubrick’s meticulous attention to the composition of his scenes. There are three targets and Carey and Hayden are not only placed behind them, but the tip of the target's caps align directly in front of the puppy and shotgun. Nikki cradles the puppy as a sign of non-aggression and an admission to his vulnerability. Clay after all has the shotgun. Hayden holds the shotgun with the barrel away from Nikki, but pointed up and not down for should something arise he is ready. Clay understands Nikki's puppy is cute but Nikki’s not. The entire scene gives the film it's sole example of palpable tension among the heist participants and it's between two alpha males, albeit one is a head case.
I see where I could be clearer. So..if we take (the station wagon at the top of the pic)…as the starting point, a line can be drawn equally from the driver’s side, to the shoulders of Carey and Hayden. Carey is facing sideways so his shoulder points directly to Hayden’s car. Hayden is positioned so his shoulder points toward Carey, but at one time he too was turned sideways with shoulder towards the station wagon. Connect Hayden w/Carey and there’s triangle.
Another triangle is formed by using Carey’s car..the convertible in front of his shack to the targets in front of Carey and Hayden, then connecting all three targets. Forgive me for this sounds like babbling, and I’m probably seeing too much, But, Kubrick composes his scenes w/the care of a still photographer which he was for LOOK magazine.
I’ll work on making this clearer. Thanks for your time in commenting.
This shot looks to be positioned as a triangle. On the very top of each hat on the target is what looks like a 0. One could draw a straight line from the 0 in the target in front of Carey and extend it through his car up to Clay’s car. The same can be done for the target below Clay where a line from the 0 also extends to his car. The triangle is completed by the connection of the three targets.
It’s possible that somewhere in the scene Hayden’s right shoulder was positioned similarly to Carey’s whose shoulder also points to Johnny Clay’s car. And what of the middle target? A straight line can be extended from the 0 in the middle target straight to the driver’s side of Nikki's car from where he will shoot the horse.
I see where I could be clearer. So..if we take (the station wagon at the top of the pic)…as the starting point, a line can be drawn equally from the driver’s side, to the shoulders of Carey and Hayden. Carey is facing sideways so his shoulder points directly to Hayden’s car. Hayden is positioned so his shoulder points toward Carey, but at one time he too was turned sideways with shoulder towards the station wagon. Connect Hayden w/Carey and there’s triangle.
Another triangle is formed by using Carey’s car..the convertible in front of his shack to the targets in front of Carey and Hayden, then connecting all three targets. Forgive me for this sounds like babbling, and I’m probably seeing too much, But, Kubrick composes his scenes w/the care of a still photographer which he was for LOOK magazine.
I’ll work on making this clearer. Thanks for your time in commenting.
This shot looks to be positioned as a triangle. On the very top of each hat on the target is what looks like a 0. One could draw a straight line from the 0 in the target in front of Carey and extend it through his car up to Clay’s car. The same can be done for the target below Clay where a line from the 0 also extends to his car. The triangle is completed by the connection of the three targets.
It’s possible that somewhere in the scene Hayden’s right shoulder was positioned similarly to Carey’s whose shoulder also points to Johnny Clay’s car. And what of the middle target? A straight line can be extended from the 0 in the middle target straight to the driver’s side of Nikki's car from where he will shoot the horse.
A film noir can have a socially conscious and subversive nature. Kubrick poignantly address racial bigotry without distracting from the movie. This dig at a Hollywood stereotype is punctuated with the abrupt use of the dehumanizing, (regardless who uses it and for whatever reason) nature of the N-word.
Carey finagles his way into the parking lot by concocting a story about having a war injury. Edwards’ color of his skin makes him an outlier by much of society and is compounded by his disability. Edwards not only empathizes with Carey but perceives a commonality between them.
As Edwards goes out of his way to mollify and explain his initial reluctance to allow Nikki into the parking lot he becomes a pain in the neck, especially to a man about to kill a speeding horse hundreds of yards away. We can understand Nikki’s annoyance. Kubrick has made Edwards a stereotypical Hollywood Negro. Despite his superiority in moral character, social standing, and economic status he is eager to please Massa. Today’s audience would find Edwards’ obsequiousness distasteful and one hopes the audience in the fifties did so as well.
Nikki's,and the audience’s, patience is wearing thin. He’s got a job to do and the guy is annoying. Edwards realizes Carey’s shift in demeanor and asks if anything is wrong. Nikki spits out: "You're wrong, nigger. Now, be a nice guy and go on about your business." The ugliness of the word shocks and elevates the scene from that of a pain in the neck parking lot attendant to that of social commentary. In the middle of a heist/noir film Kubrick reminds us of the plight of millions of Americans whose lives were too often described by slurs, and none more damaging than that used by Nikki.
Edwards comes to his senses. He leaves and consciously acts the stereotype: "Sure, boss. Sorry to have bothered you. My mistake," he says, and exaggerates his limp. Kubrick has deftly downgraded Edwards into the stereotypical Hollywood version of the shuffling Negro. Edwards is reminded once again it doesn’t matter if they share the shame physical disability or Nikki seems like an okay guy. The difference in skin color means Nikki is still 'Massa,' and Edwards along with ‘his kind,' are fine as long as they know their place. A good noir will make a social statement in a subtle manner, and never at the expense of the movie’s story line.
Carey finagles his way into the parking lot by concocting a story about having a war injury. Edwards’ color of his skin makes him an outlier by much of society and is compounded by his disability. Edwards not only empathizes with Carey but perceives a commonality between them.
As Edwards goes out of his way to mollify and explain his initial reluctance to allow Nikki into the parking lot he becomes a pain in the neck, especially to a man about to kill a speeding horse hundreds of yards away. We can understand Nikki’s annoyance. Kubrick has made Edwards a stereotypical Hollywood Negro. Despite his superiority in moral character, social standing, and economic status he is eager to please Massa. Today’s audience would find Edwards’ obsequiousness distasteful and one hopes the audience in the fifties did so as well.
Nikki's,and the audience’s, patience is wearing thin. He’s got a job to do and the guy is annoying. Edwards realizes Carey’s shift in demeanor and asks if anything is wrong. Nikki spits out: "You're wrong, nigger. Now, be a nice guy and go on about your business." The ugliness of the word shocks and elevates the scene from that of a pain in the neck parking lot attendant to that of social commentary. In the middle of a heist/noir film Kubrick reminds us of the plight of millions of Americans whose lives were too often described by slurs, and none more damaging than that used by Nikki.
Edwards comes to his senses. He leaves and consciously acts the stereotype: "Sure, boss. Sorry to have bothered you. My mistake," he says, and exaggerates his limp. Kubrick has deftly downgraded Edwards into the stereotypical Hollywood version of the shuffling Negro. Edwards is reminded once again it doesn’t matter if they share the shame physical disability or Nikki seems like an okay guy. The difference in skin color means Nikki is still 'Massa,' and Edwards along with ‘his kind,' are fine as long as they know their place. A good noir will make a social statement in a subtle manner, and never at the expense of the movie’s story line.
STAN THE PHOTOGRAPHER
Here are a few other interesting examples of Kubrick's skillful composition of scenes.
These are two stills taken from the same scene. In the above picture, Flippen, and the lady down the bar, are leaning forward, Flippen to Sawyer, she to the man. Her left hand is out, perhaps emphasizing a point. The man appears to feign interest just as Sawyer feigns disinterest. We see how the drinks on the bar line up down the bar.
In the second photo Jay C. Flippen with a suit and hat puts a drink to his lips and his elbow is on the bar. The man at the far end also has a glass to his lips. Both the woman and Flippen appear to have their right elbows bent at their side. She does not seem to be talking to the man but her body language might lead one to believe he is on her mind. She appears to be disinterested but indications are otherwise. The bartender 'coincidentally' places the bottle to align with the other objects on the bar.
The viewer’s eye is initially caught by what looks to be a straight line from Flippen to the woman and Sawyer to the man, but all four can be connected diagonally as well. If there was a triangle in the photo of Hayden and Carey, then this photo has two with the tips of the triangles meeting at what looks to be her purse. (it is the largest object on the bar and looks to be a lady's purse.) We could easily draw a line connecting Flippen to Sawyer then from Sawyer to the lady, the lady to the man, and the man to Flippen.
The viewer’s eye is initially caught by what looks to be a straight line from Flippen to the woman and Sawyer to the man, but all four can be connected diagonally as well. If there was a triangle in the photo of Hayden and Carey, then this photo has two with the tips of the triangles meeting at what looks to be her purse. (it is the largest object on the bar and looks to be a lady's purse.) We could easily draw a line connecting Flippen to Sawyer then from Sawyer to the lady, the lady to the man, and the man to Flippen.
The above is a great shot. Our attention is first caught by how the right side of each man's face is half in light and half in shadow.
The picture is a nice example of contrasts as well. Joe Sawyer does not wear a tie but does wear a hat and a plaid shirt whereas DeCorsia and Flippen have ties and solid colored shirts. DeCorsia and Sawyer wear jackets, Flippen doesn’t and it seems to break up the uniformity of the shot. So why not have Flippen wear a jacket and not Sawyer? In my opinion it would have been too obviously staged. It’s this irregularity that makes the picture stand out. The same could be said for DeCorsia wearing an outlandishly loud jacket. Both instances give the scene a feel of happenstance, a tidy modicum of difference to give distance to the obvious. And finally the three are placed by height with the tallest (Jay C. Flippen) on our far right and the hat makes Sawyer a little taller than DeCorsia.
The positioning of their hands is interesting. DeCorsia and Flippen have their hands high, and Sawyer's hands are lower, coming up to each of their wrists. Flippen seems a bit out of step here in that his hand should be above Sawyer's, and pulled back in the same manner of DeCorsia in order for Sawyer to put his hand forward yet still below the hand of Flippen. Perhaps there's another shot of them that has that.
Am I making too much into this? With Kubrick there are no coincidences. Nothing 'just' happens. What effect does this have on the viewing audience? We've seen scores of carefully composed scenes throughout the movie, so there must be some effect? Or is there?
The picture is a nice example of contrasts as well. Joe Sawyer does not wear a tie but does wear a hat and a plaid shirt whereas DeCorsia and Flippen have ties and solid colored shirts. DeCorsia and Sawyer wear jackets, Flippen doesn’t and it seems to break up the uniformity of the shot. So why not have Flippen wear a jacket and not Sawyer? In my opinion it would have been too obviously staged. It’s this irregularity that makes the picture stand out. The same could be said for DeCorsia wearing an outlandishly loud jacket. Both instances give the scene a feel of happenstance, a tidy modicum of difference to give distance to the obvious. And finally the three are placed by height with the tallest (Jay C. Flippen) on our far right and the hat makes Sawyer a little taller than DeCorsia.
The positioning of their hands is interesting. DeCorsia and Flippen have their hands high, and Sawyer's hands are lower, coming up to each of their wrists. Flippen seems a bit out of step here in that his hand should be above Sawyer's, and pulled back in the same manner of DeCorsia in order for Sawyer to put his hand forward yet still below the hand of Flippen. Perhaps there's another shot of them that has that.
Am I making too much into this? With Kubrick there are no coincidences. Nothing 'just' happens. What effect does this have on the viewing audience? We've seen scores of carefully composed scenes throughout the movie, so there must be some effect? Or is there?
This is a scene that at first glance seems rather mundane. But, a closer looks shows all of the cars are parked perfectly behind each other. There might be nothing to it, as it is a parking lot. But, this is a dirt lot and there are no lines. When was the last time you saw cars parked in orderly manner in a dirt or grass lot? The answer is never.
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Fairly simple and obvious framing that ends the movie. There is something similar to this in, Killers Kiss. The clerk, James Griffith had to walk from behind the desk to take his spot, and we see both cops exiting the doors at about the same time.
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The Killing not only addresses the genres of a heist, and a film noir but also shows Kubrick's skills as a still photographer and movie director.
Why is this not ranked higher? I think I substantiated my choices for higher ranked movies effectively, and as stated all lists are subjective. Make no mistake about it, The Killing is a great film.
Why is this not ranked higher? I think I substantiated my choices for higher ranked movies effectively, and as stated all lists are subjective. Make no mistake about it, The Killing is a great film.