The Killing (1956) Film Review and Summary

Strong 8/10

And, they’re off! This phrase applies to both the horse races and the characters at the start of The Killing (1956). Just like the horses, The Killing showcases each character racing to do their part in a heist. Most films prior to this one developed the plot of crime films in a similar linear fashion; one conglomerate plans a crime, the general preparation is shown, and the crime is executed flawlessly or with hiccups. In this film, we see what happens when each aspect of a mission is given its own complications rather than it being a group project. The Killing, at its core, is the story of a group of smug men who celebrate the fruits of their labor before it is totally fulfilled. 

Kubrick introduces us to the ensemble by providing a short insight into the personal lives of each character, with a main focus on Johnny Clay (Sterling Hayden), Sherry Peatty (Marie Windsor), and George Peatty (Elisha Cook Jr.). Although Sherry and George’s surnames indicate a partnership in marriage, they certainly aren’t partners in crime. George and Sherry despise each other, actually, Sherry despises George and George loves Sherry. Sherry mocks her husband constantly, orders him around to make drinks for her, and cheats on him. It is an interesting commentary on the role of females in cinema at this point in time, where most actresses played a submissive foil to a male lead.

George aims to please Sherry by becoming wealthy through a heist he stumbled upon. Even though he is unsure of her loyalty at first, his adoration for her knows no limits and Sherry’s careless attitude eventually makes him reveal his plans out of desperation for affection. Sherry then goes to her partner in affair, Val (Vince Edwards), to spill the beans, effectively setting up her own husband for failure.

Opposite to George is Johnny. Johnny is the fast-talking, suave, detail-oriented dominant man that George wishes he was. Johnny has planned out the entire procedure for his group’s crime, and while everyone proceeds to have their own complications, he swoops in to take the money for himself and his wife, who he plans on fleeing to Chicago with. Except, the film ends with a sequence that foils his plans, one that I audibly laughed at. Kubrick implements his signature blunt humor by employing a woman and her puppy, that she treats like a child, at the airport for a split-second of direct comic relief. Johnny is home-free, he has checked his luggage full of hundreds of thousands of dollars, but the woman’s dog runs out of her hands and forces a luggage truck to drop the suitcase, causing it to combust with bills.

Kubrick manages to make this convoluted story tight and concise within its 90 minute runtime. The Kurosawa influences permeate this project, with its varying connected plot-lines, but Kubrick’s bold satirical style gives the film an edge that can be considered a predecessor to the works of the Coen Brothers’ crime-films, as well as other complex crime-dramas such as The Usual Suspects (1995). The former with its shared humor in grave situations, and the latter with its rapid and webbed progression that culminates in a twist ending.

Appropriately, Kubrick even inserts a chess analogy to give a visual understanding of how a screenplay like this is constructed. Every contributor to the crime is a piece on the board, while some occupy the role of a pawn, like George, or a supposed king, like Johnny. Just like chess though, as the army of defenders meet their fate, the king is left unprotected and subject to total defeat. 

In a similar vein to my previously reviewed films, The Killing strategically organizes its ensemble in a way that each performer can shine. George is classically scrawny and anxious but has a humorously extreme moment of vengeance where he not only slaughters his foes, including Val, but his allies too. Sherry is cold-blooded and calculated, and Marie Windsor meticulously encapsulates this deviousness through the nonchalant expression that is plastered on her face. Johnny is every classic transatlantic alpha-performance carried out to a tee, except with the added Kubrick-fate to wipe the mirage of a perfectly controlled patriarchal man. Even someone like Nikki (Timothy Carrey) has a performance that is ahead of its time with his sleazy demeanor and a slurring northeastern-accent that gave me hints of John Turturro’s ‘Pino’ in Do The Right Thing (1989).

Kubrick doesn’t refrain from absurd moments of comedy in moments like Maurice’s (Kola Kwariani) superhuman dismantling of an entire police bridge, only to finally be shut down by about 10 officers holding him back. Kubrick also included occasional extended single-takes to show the extensive calculations that went into the operation, including a long sequence when Johnny is supervising the collection of his robbed funds only for it to constantly be spilled because he is trying to stuff over a million dollars into a single sack.

Kurosawa walked, Kubrick ran, the Coens and Quentin Tarantino sprinted, and now everybody has joined the race to create the most nauseating plots that are so painstakingly mapped out to the extent that the film is as smooth as butter. The Killing may not feel like classic Kubrick at first, but it is in the way that we’re watching him take the baby steps needed to give him the future confidence to assert his style more prominently.