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Critical Jim reviews The Killing and City of Ghosts
By Staff Writer Jim Cohn
The Killing
(1956)
Based on the novel Clean Break by Lionel White
Screenplay: Jim Thompson, Stanley Kubrick
Director: Stanley Kubrick
Cast: Johnny Clay: Sterling Hayden; George Peatty: Elisha Cook, Jr.; Sherry Peatty: Marie Windsor; Val Cannon: Vince Edwards; Marvin Unger: Jay C. Flippen; Randy Kennan: Ted de Corsia; Mike O'Reilly: Joe Sawyer
Nightmare in Dreamland
The story goes like this: Jim Thompson, riding the wave of success from The Killer Inside Me, his fourth novel and the first of his books to employ the hardboiled style that became his hallmark, went to Hollywood to seek his fortune. A young director named Stanley Kubrick was impressed with Thompson's book, saying it was, "Probably the most chilling and believable first-person story of a criminally warped mind I have ever encountered." In 1955, Kubrick hired Thompson to co-author the screenplay of his third full-length film, The Killing. However, when the film was released and the credits rolled across the screen, Kubrick had listed himself as the screenwriter and credited Thompson (in a smaller font) only for providing dialogue. The Writer's Guild arbitrated the resulting dispute, but Thompson lost the judgment. Again, Kubrick approached Thompson with an offer to co-script 1957's Paths of Glory. Thompson accepted, but demanded his contract contain specific clauses regarding his screenwriting credit. Despite that safeguard, he received third billing behind Kubrick and Calder Willingham. The film later picked up a Writer's Guild nomination for best screenplay and established Stanley Kubrick's reputation as a major talent.
After that, Thompson's career declined. In the 1960's, he settled for scripting various second-rate TV shows and writing novelizations of some of them, including the popular Raymond Burr series, Ironside. He also continued to write crime novels, but none of them sold well.
At the time of Jim Thompson's death in 1977, after a series of severe strokes, none of his books were in print in the United States. Before he died, he told his wife to guard his manuscripts, saying, ""Just you wait, I'll become famous after I'm dead about ten years."
His words were prophetic. In 1984, author and screenwriter Barry Gifford founded Black Lizard Press. His first three reprints were Thompson'sThe Getaway, Hell of a Woman, and Pop. 1280. For the next three years, Gifford successfully reprinted Thompson's books, returning his name to prominence. A few years later, Gifford sold Black Lizard Press to Random House. The publishing giant has continued to reissue the works of Jim Thompson and other great noir authors under the Vintage/Black Lizard imprint.
The Movie
The Killing, the story of a perfect crime gone horribly wrong, is notable for two reasons. First, Stanley Kubrick, one of the acknowledged greats of the cinema, directed it. This was only his third feature film and, at 84 minutes, his longest effort to date (he did direct three short documentaries between 1951 and 1953). His hallmarks--innovation and near-flawless production--are already apparent.
Anyone who knows Kubrick's later works, knows he used music the way a painter uses color--not only to create a mood, but to etch an indelible image onto the viewer's mind to evoke a strong emotion. Remember the opening of 2001: A Space Odyssey, with the majestic Thus Spake Zarathustra, not as a background afterthought, but as a means of establishing the mood and themes of the tale to follow? And, who has seen A Clockwork Orange, and not left the theater thinking of Gene Kelly's Singing in the Rain in a way much different than when they entered?
This use of music is presaged in The Killing, which employs an orchestral score featuring blaring horns and a rapid, staccato rhythm in many of its scenes. If that were not enough to get our attention, the volume is ratcheted up to infuse maximum tension into a story with little physical action. If we heard this music while watching Andy Warhol's 321-minute film, Sleep, we would spend five hours on the edge of our seats biting our nails to the quick.
Also unique is the way time is used to frame the story. It's not linear--day one, day two, day three, etc. Rather, it hop-scotches back and forth and sideways, forming a crazy-quilt of events. But, when Kubrick stitches the pieces together, he creates a seamless movie, not at all confusing, as one might expect. Today's writers and directors, with varying degrees of success, occasionally use this technique. But, in 1956, this was a novel way to tell a story. Kubrick brings it off effortlessly.
One reason for this is the use of an omniscient narrator (Art Gilmore) who orients the audience and provides background on the characters. The narrator serves another purpose, too. His urgent, nearly monotone voice creates the detached feel of a documentary. This, too, is in keeping with Kubrick's later work, which some have described as cold and dispassionate.
Analysis aside, the main reason to watch The Killing is the other reason it's notable: the unflinching, hardboiled dialogue that Jim Thompson, sometimes called "The Dimestore Dostoevski," wrote into the script. This isn't the cute, clever, cynical dialogue one expects from greats like Raymond Chandler or Ross MacDonald. It's unadorned and comes at you like a bullet from a magnum. Here are a few samples:
Johnny (Sterling Hayden), the head of the gang is out of prison after five years. Unrepentant, he says to his faithful girlfriend (Coleen Gray), "You know Fay, the biggest mistake I made before was shooting for peanuts. Five years have taught me one thing, if nothing else. Any time you take a chance, you'd better be sure the rewards are worth the risk because they can put you away just as fast for a ten-dollar heist as for a million dollar job." Fay responds, "You don't have to sell it to me Johnny. You know I'll go along with anything you say."
Randy (Ted de Corsia), a cop and a member of the gang planning to rob a racetrack of $2,000,000 needs to pay off his debt to a shylock. The shylock grants it, warning, "Take good care of yourself." Randy replies with straight-faced seriousness, "I'll take care of myself. That's my specialty."
Mousy George Peatty (Elisha Cook, Jr.), a racetrack cashier who is in on the robbery, comes home after work to his brassy, blond wife, Sherry (Marie Windsor). Seeing this couple is enough to know they are a mismatch. That's confirmed when George says to her, "I feel kinda sick today. I got pains in my stomach." Completely unconcerned, she says, "Maybe you got a hole in it, George. Do you suppose you have?" "Hole in it?" he questions. "How would I get a hole in my stomach?" "How would you get one in your head?" she replies.
Sherry, conniving with her boyfriend, Val (Vince Edwards) to steal the take from the gang, spies on George and the other gang members, as they meet with Johnny to learn the details of the plan. She's caught and brought into the apartment. Johnny sends the other gang members away and says to Sherry, "Alright, sister, that's a mighty pretty head you've got on your shoulders. You want to keep it there, or you want to start carrying it around in your hands?" Unfazed, Sherry says in a sultry voice, "Maybe we could compromise and put it on your shoulder. I think that'd be nice, don't you?"
There are a lot more gems where these came from, but hear them for yourself. Don't miss The Killing. Not one of its 84-minutes is wasted, and all are worth your while.
City of Ghosts
(2003)
An original screenplay by Barry Gifford and Matt Dillon
Screenplay: Barry Gifford, Matt Dillon
Director: Matt Dillon
Cast: Jimmy Cremmins: Matt Dillon; Marvin: James Caan; Sophie: Natascha McElhone; Emile: Gerard Depardieu; Sok: Sereyvuth Kem; Kaspar: Stellan Skarsgard
The Noir Lizard
Barry Gifford just may be the most well-known writer you've never heard of; it depends in which circles you travel. If you're into non-fiction you may know him as the author of Jack's Book: An Oral Biography of Jack Kerouac or Out of the Past: Adventures in Film Noir, a collection of essays of which Elmore Leonard wrote, "The essays are better than some of the films he writes about." If you like short stories, you may be familiar with his American Falls: The Collected Short Stories. Are memoirs your meat? Barry Gifford's The Phantom Father tells the story of his father, a Chicago racketeer in the 1930's, '40's, and '50's who was on a first name basis with everyone from the mayor of Chicago to mobsters like Willie Nero and Arnold Banks. If poetry is your thing, perhaps you read 2001's Replies to Wang Wei or Ghosts No Horse Can Carry: Collected Poems, 1967 - 1987. Prefer the long form? Gifford's novel Wyoming, won a Best Novel of the Year accolade in 2000, from the Los Angeles Times. He wrote the novel, Wild at Heart: The Story of Sailor and Lula, and the screenplay for the movie version. Night People is his volume of four dark novellas set in the south. Three of his plays were compiled into the Hotel Room Trilogy. David Lynch filmed two of them for HBO. Gifford also takes co-authoring credit, along with Lynch, for the screenplay for 1997's film noir, Lost Highway.
Despite his large and varied body of work, Barry Gifford's most lasting contribution to literature may be Black Lizard Press, the publishing company he founded in 1984. Black Lizard was devoted to reprinting the works of forgotten or neglected writers of the hardboiled school of crime fiction loosely called "noir." With Gifford's guidance--he selected the titles and edited the line until 1989--great practitioners of the genre like Jim Thompson, David Goodis, Roger Simon, and others enjoyed a well-deserved renaissance they might otherwise have been denied. Black Lizard was sold in 1990 to Random House, which continues to honor this distinctly American school of literature under the Vintage Crime/Black Lizard imprint.
The Movie
Considering that City of Ghosts is actor Matt Dillon's first attempt at directing, it's not bad. It's also not great. Place it somewhere in the middle, perhaps a little north or south of "good," depending on your taste and your mood when you watch it. And, that's the problem. It's difficult not to feel that this movie could have approached "very fine," maybe even "excellent." The result is mild disappointment. Think of the feeling you might have if you were attracted to a restaurant by the vivid aromas only to find the taste of the food didn't quite meet your expectations. Still, you may remark, "Hmmm, not bad. Maybe the regular chef was off tonight." City of Ghosts is like that.
The story opens in the States, then moves, briefly to Bangkok, Thailand, with the bulk of the action occurring in Phnom Penh, Cambodia. The plot, involving scams, double-crossing, cover-ups, and corruption, is predictable. Except for one minor twist near the end, which doesn't affect the action, there are no real surprises. Purportedly, it germinated from an idea Mr. Dillon had while visiting that area in the mid-'90's. He talked it over with Barry Gifford and together they wrote the screenplay.
Predictability is one of the major failings of this movie. The other involves the character of Jimmy Cremmins, played by Matt Dillon. Cremmins starts as a bad guy, one of the chief players in a multi-million dollar insurance swindle. Viewer involvement depends on believing Cremmins' conversion from bad guy to good guy. We, the audience, must be convinced that Cremmins has sufficient reason to change. Unfortunately, that doesn't happen.
The fault is not with Dillon, as actor--he plays his part very well--but, rather, with Dillon and Gifford, as scriptwriters. The usual steps in this process are disillusionment, regret, repentance, epiphany. None of these necessary steps are climbed with the intensity needed to convince us the change is sincere. The result is, at the end of the movie we feel flat instead of buoyant.
But, City of Ghosts is a movie with good qualities as well as bad, and it holds the promise that Dillon, as director, may have a bright future.
Working with a fine, well-seasoned cast, he has managed to get uniformly excellent performances from each member. The standout is Gerard Depardieu as Emile, the bartender and innkeeper of the Phnom Penh's Belville Hotel. It is here that Jimmy Cremmins finds a room and exchanges information with the locals, who are comprised of seedy Cambodians and seedier American and European expatriates. Depardieu plays the sly and volatile Emile with appropriate portions of humor, seriousness and sympathy, all dished out at exactly the right time in the right amounts, and with the right intensity. Though his role is minor, Depardieu all but steals the show.
The other positive, important quality is mood. The camera squarely places us inside a Cambodia that is impoverished, steamy, squalid, and unrelentingly depressing. Combine that with a haunting musical score (composed by Tyler Bates) that binds the film from first to last, and Dillon has created a movie as unforgiving and noir as any black and white crime thriller to come out of the '40's and '50's.
In fact, as good as the actors are, City of Ghosts is dominated by the mood Dillon has managed to create. It alone elevates the film above mediocrity and makes it worth seeing.
If Matt Dillon can find tighter scripts to apply his talent to, he will be assured a smooth transition from fine actor to excellent director.
Do you have comments about Jim's reviews? He'd love to hear from you. Contact him at:
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Copyright 2003 by ReadersRoom, LLC. All rights reserved.
