The Killers (1946)

This is an archived critique from my work in the English Department at Brandeis University.

The Killers is an effective educational guide to film noir. It demonstrates the expressionist shadows of the post-war period, has a stunning femme fatale that leads the protagonist astray, and creates a sense of tension and dread as we delve further into the mystery. Yet, by being classic film noir in every sense, it inevitably exhibits the worst of the genre. First, it finds its power in valorizing characters that ultimately don’t deserve it. Second, it too obviously foreshadows the path of certain characters like the Swede. And third, its portrayal of the femme fatale inexplicably places all the moral blame on the woman, imploring her to seek her own salvation and forgiveness.

The order of events is critical to the film’s success in capturing the audience’s attention. To drag the viewer along this path, Siodmak places the center of the action at the start of the film. Initially, it appears like the eponymous “killers” are the bad guys. They murder the Swede in cold blood after threatening the patrons of the diner.[1] It is an unconventional film noir in this sense. We know the identities of the killers and we know why the ‘victim’ was killed. Yet, once Siodmak dispatches the mundane parts of the story, we begin to learn that the drama lies not in the manner of killing, but in the backstory behind the Swede’s escape and eventual demise. These sequences of flashbacks expose and challenge the initially perceived virtuosity of the Swede as a victim. The divide between what we initially believe the Swede to be and what the story reveals him to be is effective in portraying the Swede’s readiness, and humanity’s readiness by extension, to embrace corruption.

The most effective technique in the Killers is its use of flashbacks. Flashback-based scripts that are representative of film noir result in this film being stronger in the beginning and end. Those are the only sections in which the audience is in the present. The initial murder scene, and the entire first twenty minutes as well, is an intensely captivating exercise of dramatic action. Both the score and the image of Nick running to warn the Swede work in tandem to create the tightest, most intense scene of the film.[2] Since we do not learn who the Swede is yet, we are thrust into the action without the obligation to consider the morals or backstory of the characters involved. And in the end, the same phenomenon occurs, albeit in the opposite way. Just as knowing too little enhances the action at the beginning, knowing the full story by the end makes the final scenes more engaging. By concentrating the intensity at the beginning and end, the film is more able to focus itself on the most important parts of the transformative character change it seeks to depict: the before and after.

However, there are some consequences. Flashbacks require that the audience try to conform the Swede to a linear path of which we already know the end. It builds up a sense of anticipatory action, which while enhancing the drama in some ways, ultimately results in diminishing the scenes throughout the middle of the film. For example, when the Swede plans out the robbery, we do not really care if they are successful in their pursuit. The money doesn’t matter if he’ll end up dead regardless. Yet, this style of plot structure is popular and effective at emphasizing the moments that require the audience’s full attention.

Siodmak uses his unique ordering of events to convey the Swede’s descent into corruption. In that pursuit, he is successful. However, the film partly compromises its effectiveness by providing too much foreshadowing early on. They reveal the ending conclusion at the very beginning. For example, we are brought along following the perspective of an insurance agent, not the police or any real source of authority.[3] When a private investigator or agent of the law drives the mystery, in a sense we are searching for the solution to the puzzle out of a desire for justice. But a financial investigator does not elicit such a reaction. The notability of this crime is solely reliant on the need to collect an insurance policy. This hints to the audience that all the actors are untoward. There will be a sort of moral equivalence between the killers and the killed. By deemphasizing the need to solve the crime solely because it was a crime, Veiller contradicts what makes his story effective.

In addition, as early as the scene with Lubinsky, we gain a sense of the dichotomy that Siodmak attempts to explore between the corrupted and incorruptible. There, he shows us the difference between Lubinsky and the Swede, the good man and the corrupted man. The Swede abandoned the good girl for the seductress and reaped the consequences. Even the scenes with Kitty and the Swede is lit indicate this divide. The scenes with Kitty are darker and more shadowy than the ones with Lilly. There is a distinct difference in the way Siobmak presents Lubinsky and the Swede’s lives. We arrive at this conclusion only in the first half hour of the film. There is already a sense of the theme of corruption by this point, which results in the later sections being weaker.

Veiller’s screenplay, at times, begins to fall apart logically, especially during the key moments of character development. For instance, the initial corruptive event that occurs in the first act when the Swede sacrifices himself for Kitty makes no sense. He barely knows her. It is understandable that she is immensely attractive and that he may fall in love with her eventually, but this very haphazard decision is jarring. Even to find a place in Colfax’s crew, this abrupt sacrifice does not fit. Why would the Swede give himself up for her so quickly? Lubinsky notes that he had not even known her for long at all. In a sense, it seems Veiller is artificially creating these plot points to nudge the character along into further corruptive behavior. It does not appear natural, nor does it enhance the dramatic decisions that the Swede will eventually make. Swede’s sacrifice exists as a device to plainly cement Kitty as the seductive femme fatale that lures men to destruction, while also putting the Swede in this white knight position.

Like many film noirs, “The Killers” has an irresistibly seductive femme fatale. Kitty, played by Ava Gardner, is this film’s version. And following with the other films of this type, this film equally mistreats her, both in the film and in the script. First, Siodmak places her in a position in which the audience inherently becomes drawn to dislike or view her negatively. As the catalyst for our ‘hero’s’ stint in prison, we immediately villainize her, or at least visualize her as a siren-esque figure. In a sense, the film depicts her as a, if not the only, primary instigator of the various perceived ‘double crossings’ that occur in the middle part of the film. Modern sensibilities are not suitable for this work, but it is impossible to ignore the fact that Kitty Collins is a victim of this story. The film forces her to shoulder the blame for the various deceptions. Simultaneously, she is the subject of both Colfax and Swede’s unrequited love, the bearer of the guilt for Colfax’s death, and the effective reason for Swede’s demise. And then, as if to further emphasize her dastardly role in the events of the film, Siodmak ends the film with her begging for salvation (and protection from the law) as Colfax dies.[4] The way the film shoehorns Kitty into this role that finds itself required to hold all the antagonism in the story is distasteful. And furthermore, by burdening Kitty with all this blame and guilt, the film effectively shields characters like the Swede and Colfax, thereby contradicting one of the main points of the film: to depict the moral demise of a virtuous character.

In a sense, the Killers is effective not at conveying dramatic action, but instead as an educational vehicle for the tropes that define film noir. Although not intended for that goal, the Killers winds itself through every film noir tradition. Unfortunately, it gets to that end by forcing itself into artificial moments that serve nothing but the establishment of a trope that the director assumes, correctly, audiences will enjoy. However, for the purposes of entertainment alone, The Killers is a powerful work. The flashback-based script draws our focus to the intense moments at the beginning and end of the film. By orienting the film in that way, we are better able to become drawn into the action and drama. Ultimately, The Killers is an entertaining guide to film noir, albeit with mistakes.