“You do not have to know a man to live with him. But you have to know a man like a brother to kill him.” So sums up the main character in this oxymoron-titled film, reminiscent of a college-crafted art film project. Primarily known as a director, Allen Baron's oddball approach is typical of a student who is allowed the artistic freedom to do whatever he wants for a project to get that “A” grade. All his cash and loose change are used for this budgeted film which accounts for its starkness. Even a big band jazz score is used with restraint. This is not a film to be shot during the rejuvenation of spring. Like the lead character's future, winter is bleak.
My opening paragraph is not intended to be critical. Baron's project packs a wallop and could be the most expensive-looking film from such a limited budget. He embarrassed all "his fellow film students." I can only imagine a coffee house’s beatnik banter the day after the film's premiere. The
film's “artsy” tone is set as the film opens with a shaky white spot in
the center of the screen which is both frustrating and thought-provoking. As the voice-over narration cryptically spells out Baron's
backstory, the white spot gets larger and resolves itself into a
train tunnel’s opening. Later, a similar effect is used on the
streets of Manhattan as we watch Baron walk toward a low camera from
a very great distance. In total silence. Ingmar Bergman would be
envious.
Baron
plays Frankie Bono, a name surely found in a top ten list of
underworld figures. Visually, he is a cross between George C. Scott
and Robert De Niro. In fact, the latter could fill this role without
anyone knowing the difference. There are no studio sets to be found
here. All filming takes us to the actual neighborhoods of New York City as we witness Baron's lonely, emotionally damaged and
pessimistic life unravel. Rarely has location shooting looked so
expensive―an
almost documentary feel―as
we follow the detailed workings of a carefully efficient hitman.
Mel
Davenport’s narration features the distinctive, wood-chipper voice
of Lionel Stander. Aside from the myriad of interesting camera positions, his expressive voice-over is the defining element
of this film. The long, drawn-out scenes of watching Baron go about
his systematic contract procedure would be lifeless without it. The
narration reflects Baron’s conscience and inner thoughts. We learn
of Baron’s disgust with his contract hit, a mob boss. He is repulsed by his high lifestyle and hates his mustache because it is there only
to hide the fact that he has lips like a woman. So says Stander.
The cinematography
will have the viewer reaching for a warm hoodie. Baron seems to be just another shopper as he passes decorated storefronts with real-life
pedestrians—unaware they are being filmed—appearing as “extras.”
Christmastime provides no happy memories for Baron. He hates it. Under gloomy, overcast skies, the
final scenes at Spring Creek in Brooklyn are particularly
effective—despite using what sounds like the sound effect for the
flying scenes from the old The Adventures of Superman television show—as the relentless wind bends the tall grasses and
removes men’s hats.
All the characters in this film are as ordinary as your own friends might be. Hopefully not this strange. These are people captured in their own world of monotony and self-doubt. Molly McCarthy returns after her underwhelming performance in, The Great St. Louis Bank Robbery, as a longtime interest of Baron. Once again, McCarthy's acting is tolerable at best. Their relationship has no future even without her knowing what he does for a living. The slimy, and weirdly whispered opening performance by the bearded Larry Tucker is particularly creepy. His lines are delivered as if
auditioning for the Don Corleone role. Calm but dangerous. His closest
companions are a herd of rats in cages. I believe it was Alfred Hitchcock, referring to his film, Torn
Curtain, who imagined how difficult it must
be to actually kill a person with your bare hands. Tucker's demise is quite gut-wrenching. To say Baron is
not affected by the murder would be unrealistic. Baron takes no
pleasure in his lifestyle. Today’s films unrealistically have a psychopathic murderer who delights in torturing someone to death by
the most diabolical means.
Note: One cannot ignore Dean Sheldon's acting as a nightclub singer. Sheldon is perhaps best known for his film career. This movie. His performance is a slippery slope between lounge singer and beatnik. Outside any murders, these might be the most brutal scenes in the movie. Though one cannot deny his total commitment to selling the songs.
No comments:
Post a Comment