Yeah Rick, a “dumb brute” with a heart as big as a house and more guts than I will ever have, deserves all he gets. You would be right at home in a Mickey Spillane book.

Thanks! No need to apologize for a compliment.

Robert Siodmak’s best picture transcends the genre and is not only a story of greed, love, and betrayal, but is also about loss, friendship, innocence, and the brutal realities of trying to make a buck in a hostile world. There is a wider socio-historical context, which is ably discussed by Jim Groom in a post on his BavaTuesday blog.

In Hemingway’s text the Swede’s explanation to Nick for his being targeted is “I got it wrong”, but this is changed in the film’s script to “I did something wrong – once”. These stronger words are the fulcrum of the picture. Ole’s repentance is established from the outset and his tragic redemption seared into the viewer’s sympathies even before his story unfolds. How the script and Siodmak construct the narrative using flashbacks and the continuum of the insurance investigation is a lesson on filmic technique.

The ‘rap sheet’ read to insurance investigator, Jim Reardon, by his secretary, tells us that despite Ole losing his parents at a young age, he managed to grow up straight in a tough neighborhood until after his career as a boxer is ended by an injury in his last fight, when he falls in with the wrong crowd, and ends up in the numbers racket. Ole’s life from that fight to his death is a story of betrayal. In the dressing-room after the fight, he is dumped by his manager and trainer without empathy or ceremony. Later, his childhood friend, a cop, let’s him take the rap for the femme-fatale, who then goes on to betray him again when she enacts the final double-cross.

A decent man destroyed by fate: the stuff tragedy is made of.

But, I’ll be glad to give the films I’m reviewing for M-Z star ratings.

Or you could use a 57-rectangle scale. That seemed to work pretty well for me.

Where was I? Oh, yeah … ratings creep is one of the reasons I don’t rate the flicks — like this one — that I sporadically review over at my site. (although I’m toying with a ten-star system. You know, for the kids …)

But back to this flick. Have I said I’m very fond of it? And like a lot of films, I remember images as much as plot. One of the images that stands out for me is, of course, that fabulous opening when the killers saunter menacingly into town, check out the gas station, then circle the diner like prowling hyenas.

But the other scene that stands out is in the jail cell, where Lancaster is learning about the stars from his two-bit-crook cell-mate, and the stars are twinkling with perfect studio unrealism outside the cell window.

AVA was a green eyed Irish girl. Savagely independent, strong willed, a real smart ass. She married FRANK SINATRA. She was the love of his life. They fought like cats and dogs. Even though he went on to marry other people (she never did – that was her third try) they were always in each others’ pockets.

Yeah…

As soon as the Swede lays eyes on her, YOU KNOW.

AVA is absolutely mesmerizing. Definitely one of the most beautiful women EVER. She was a wild one. But she was tremendously loyal and very caring to the people that she adored.

You wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of her, though. Howard Hughes tried to beat the hell out of her one night and she knocked him out cold. That’s my kind of girl.

Did I mention that we were alike…?

If I bring a different perspective to this stuff, it’s likely because I’m one of the few film bloggers out there that’s female. But that’s cool. I’ve always gotten along much better with most men than the majority of women. No real surprise there.

RICK is dead on about the 1964 version of THE KILLERS. Depressing as hell. No real style and excessively violent for the time. That’s my take, anyway. But I wasn’t aware that it was originally a television production.

I guess that explains a lot.

“Evan, Tarkovsky’s is a student film that is very faithful to the Hemingway story, which ends with the Swede being told the men are in town; in the short story, we don’t get to the killing. Neither the 1946 or the 1964 versions are anywhere near faithful to the short story.

The Tarkovsky film — actually, it was co-directed by Tarkovsky — is a student film, with crappy acting and production values, and it’s e hard for me to find anything in it that speaks to his future promise. My review of the DVD (see the url quoted above and in the piece) actually has some more info.

The 1964 version was made to be the first TV movie ever; it was deemed too violent by the network. Therefore, it has a real 60s television, Universal City vibe. The pick of the litter is the 1946 noir.”

Great thoughts on Ava, Miranda. You always bring such a fresh perspective on things like this. And you’re right about her burning up the screen. When I first watched this, to be honest, I didn’t know what Ava Gardner looked like. I thought maybe the blonde chica that the Swede is initially with (who then marries the police detective) was her, but it seemed like an odd role and not very noirish.

But as soon as the Swede looks over at the piano and sees the real Ava sitting there, I knew in a heartbeat that that was really her. You could tell, within a split second, that she was the real deal.

I adore THE KILLERS. Even though they’re very young and it’s really the first major break out role for both of them, BURT LANCASTER and AVA GARDNER possess incendiary magnetism. They just burn up the screen.

My favourite female movie star was always ELIZABETH TAYLOR. But I strongly suspected that AVA was very much like me personality wise. When I bought her autobiography it became glaringly obvious that I was right. IN SPADES. We were actually born the same week. About six decades apart.

Though AVA didn’t take herself terribly seriously, I think that even she would’ve agreed that she was one of the ultimate femme fatales. She didn’t even have to TRY. On screen, she had a powerful allure that comes across as dangerous. It’s in her eyes. Even in the way that she walks across a room. She’s a sharp chick…and she knows exactly what she’s doing.

She and Burt were something else – and they had truly fabulous chemistry.

I’d change my name to KITTY COLLINS.

But that would probably be totally unnecessary….

I thought it was weird how little Ava and Burt were actually in this movie.

The opening 10 minutes of this film are, perhaps, some of the best 10 minutes of cinema I have ever seen. Taut, tension-wracked, brilliantly written and acted, incredibly shot, with a climax that kicks you in the gut. It reminded me of some of the more incredible scenes in Children Of Men.

Elwood Bredell’s work here cannot be overemphasized. It’s just phenomenal stuff. Notice the scene when the heist happens, done in one single take on a crane. After watching it I had to rewind it to make sure there hadn’t been any cuts. Killer stuff (pun intended).