Kubism, Part 2: Killer's Kiss (1955)

It's been an underwhelming start for a so-called visionary genius, but in the hope of digging up something watchable I hereby present the third instalment of my shallow dive into the career of tonsorially unconcerned director Stanley Kubrick. Under the Fisher Price microscope this time is Kubo's second feature film, Killer's Kiss. Is he any good yet? Let's find out! (short answer: almost)

Scene: A man impatiently paces the concourse of New York's Penn Station, smoking like it's the 1950s (which, in fairness, it is) and talking without moving his lips. No, he's not a ventriloquist: it's one of those voiceovers they do in film noir all the time, letting us know that - in what would become one of Kubrick's favourite themes - he is a man and he has fucked up. The story unfolds in flashback, and what follows is an unremarkable stab at a genre which was on its last legs at the time. Kubrick would later claim the story was irrelevant and he just needed the directing experience, and that's crystal clear on viewing: Killer's Kiss uses all the film noir tropes in a disappointingly uninspired way (smoke, venetian blinds and shadows feature heavily), but clues to the future genius of its director occasionally pop up and punch you on the nose to wake you up.

The station-based framing device is the first fumble: where, say, Double Indemnity began at the end with Walter Neff shot, bleeding out and desperate to confess, immediately hooking you into the story, Killer's Kiss has a bloke waiting for a train. Yowzers, how could he possibly have ended up in such an incredible and unique pickle, I can't wait to find out. Turns out he's a boxer by the name of Davey Gordon, played by the kind of actor you hire when you can't afford Burt Lancaster. Preparing for a fight that evening he gazes into a mirror, imagining what he'll look like when he's had his features pulped into face soup - the first of a handful of shots Kubrick lifts from his own documentary Day Of The Fight as if we wouldn't notice (tbf, hardly anyone did because hardly anyone saw it).

The setup goes on to introduce Davey's sexy neighbour, Gloria: a private dancer, a dancer for money, any old music will do - not unlike Davey himself, whose fancy footwork also regularly entertains an undiscerning audience. Naturally Gloria ends up dragging Davey into a whole heap of trouble - not for nothing does the poster's lurid tagline shriek "Her soft mouth was the road to sin-smeared violence!", although that might be over-egging the pudding a bit. Presumably "Her boss's wandering hands meant some guy ended up on platform four" wouldn't have sold as many tickets. Censor-friendly sex, violence and mistaken identity follow, until a bizarre climax that sees Davey and the handsy man lobbing dismembered mannequins at each other in a warehouse, before the tantalising conundrum of what happens at Penn Station is wrapped up to absolutely nobody's surprise.

While the content is unexceptional, Kubrick does play around with the form a little, and that's what we're here for. Unbelievably he still hasn't mastered the 180 degree rule, more interested instead in filming Cheap Burt Lancaster's face through a goldfish bowl in an attempt to find a new way to show a schnook trapped in his own tedious existence, but there are some great moments. Davey's big fight, which he loses because he is a man in a film noir and therefore a loser, is shot with gusto: Stan gets his camera right in there with the boxers and makes you feel every punch. It's not quite Raging Bull, but the desire to put the audience into a situation rather than just show it to them is born here, and would come of age inside Dave Bowman's helmet in 2001 and Danny Torrance's maze run in The Shining.

The gear change between the first and second act is our first exposure to some choice Kubrickian surrealism. Davey dreams of flying down the deserted streets of New York, and we see his point of view but it's in negative, the effect foreshadowing 2001's stargate sequence but at a fraction of the duration, which is a good job because 2001's stargate sequence is almost as long as the whole of Killer's Kiss. It's deliberately jarring but a little vague for such an unambitious narrative: does it represent the desire to escape? The interchangeable nature of light and dark? A titanic fuckup in the processing lab? And Kubrick's next trick isn't entirely original but it is unusual: a flashback within the flashback, forcing the audience to stay on its toes and making Killer's Kiss the Inception of its time.

There is some legit stunning photography in here, shot by Kubrick himself. A scene in which a pair of dimbulb hitmen whack the wrong guy is a staggering work of composition and lighting: three silhouettes shrink slowly into the disappearing perspective of a back alley, Stan cuts away while the dark deed is done, then two silhouettes return towards the camera, their job apparently done. Shooting almost entirely on location in New York, Kubrick also gifts us some lovely time capsule stuff of Times Square at night, and you wonder how someone who would become such a control freak coped with all those randoms wandering through his shot as if they lived there or something. But he does achieve a palpable sense of the city's oppressiveness, with characters hemmed into tiny apartments, narrow streets and corridors, or loomed over by pitiless architecture.

Despite those flashes of brilliance, most of Killer's Kiss is unexceptional. But Kubrick has at least lost the arse-clenching pretentiousness of Fear And Desire, and is in effect still learning on the job. Today's auteurs cut their teeth on TV and in commercials, but 60 years ago you had to do the directorial equivalent of standing in front of the class and showing your working out, which is what this is. We're watching Stanley Kubrick become Stanley Kubrick, and that's never going to be anything less than fascinating.

Next time: The Kube finally pulls his finger out and makes a film with a running time of over 75 minutes. Join me soon for The Killing! (Not the Danish TV series. Or the American TV series based on the Danish TV series. Or the film with Lee Marvin, that's The Killers. Or the 2010 Ashton Kutcher / Katherine Heigl action comedy, that's Killers. The fuck is wrong with you?)

← Part 1: Fear And Desire

Part 3: The Killing →

Award-Winning Idea #219

Having recently endured enjoyed the SingalongaGrease experience at London's Prince Charles Cinema, it occurred to me that there are massive gaps in the market for further interactive movie experiences in which cinema audiences can join in with the on-screen fun from the comfort of their seats.

And so, without further attempt to explain why I bothered with any of this, here are eleven suggestions for the future of cinema. All ideas are © Me so don't even think about it.

MumblelongaTrueGrit

Every time Jeff Bridges opens his mouth, the entire audience mumbles along incoherently, with helpful subtitles and a bouncing ball.

Any patrons who want a taster of what this experience might be like should watch live coverage of the House Of Commons.

RemovafacealongaMission:Impossible2

On entering the screening, each audience member is given several full face masks to put on. Each time an actor removes their face in the film, the audience does too. Special care must be taken to ensure each patron has enough masks and does not inadvertently remove their own face.

AmnesialongaMemento

Audiences at this event will be able to join in the fun by having the last ten minutes of their memory wiped at ten-minute intervals in order to truly immerse them in the world of Memento's protagonist, Leonard. When they leave the cinema they'll have no idea where they are or why they're there but will be only too happy to watch it again.

BustaballsalongaGoodFellas

Every time a character makes reference to balls being busted and/or broken, audience members must bust the balls of their neighbour. This can be done with repeated verbal needling or, if it's Robert De Niro doing the complaining, customers are entitled to physically break the balls of whoever they wish. Screenings are to be held in venues with nearby A&E facilities.

DisappointalongaPhantomMenace

Whenever an audience member is disappointed by an annoying moppet or let down by an atrocious CGI character, they must themselves trample on the hopes and dreams of a loved one. A pre-screening demonstration will show patrons how to rape someone else's childhood or stamp on the toes of a friend's fondest memories.

FalsendingalongaReturnOfTheKing

Every time it looks like the final Lord Of The Rings film is ending, the entire audience picks up their coat and bags and shuffles politely out of the auditorium, into their cars and drives home. Just as they're getting into bed they are phoned by the cinema and told they have to come back to see the rest of the film. This happens with every potential ending. Screenings are expected to last approximately two days.

FightalongaFightClub

The Rules Of FightalongaFightClub

First Rule: You do not talk about FightalongaFightClub.

Second Rule: Every time a character fights, the audience must fight too.

Third Rule: If someone goes for a wee or some more nachos, FightalongaFightClub is over.

Fourth Rule: The entire audience must fight each other.

Fifth Rule: Multiple fights at a time are compulsory.

Sixth rule: No shirts, no shoes. You too, fellas.

Seventh Rule: FightalongaFightClub will go on as long as it has to.

Eighth Rule: If this is your first time at FightalongaFightClub, bring your last will and testament.

RepeatalongaGroundhogDay

Groundhog Day is screened without incident, but is then screened again and again, on an eternal loop. All exits will be locked to prevent escape until all audience members learn to be better people and convince Andie Macdowell to shag them.

DreamwithinadreamalongaInception

As each dream level is reached in the narrative, audiences must discover a deeper level of their own subconscious in which to have a mind-boggling action sequence. Ushers will be on hand to deliver "The Kick" if it looks like any patrons are about to die, but they'll probably be distracted by the fit girl serving the popcorn so keep one eye open. Audiences must provide their own totem.

DosomethingpointlessalongaTronLegacy

With every pointless or incomprehensible event that occurs on screen, the audience must also undertake something useless or baffling. Examples may include waving a stick around and impersonating David Bowie, delivering motivational speeches to their PCs and describing the sun as "big, round and yellow".

SurgicallyattachalongaHumanCentipede

Chloroform, handkerchiefs and sewing kits are taped under a quarter of the seats in the auditorium. If an audience member finds this goody bag, they must render three other customers unconscious at the same time that it happens in the film, and then continue to imitate the actions of the film's mad doctor. The fun really begins when detectives burst into the auditorium and start shooting.

HamalongaHopkins

In this special season of screenings of every Anthony Hopkins film, audiences must devour an entire ham every time the great man speaks, moves or thinks. If, by the end of the season, patrons are still hungry, they may begin chewing the scenery.

Shagalonga9Songs

Sorry, every screening of this has already sold out.

What Can Loosely Be Described As The "Top 10" Movies Of 2010

I say "loosely" because really only the top four or five have earned the right to be in my Top 10. The rest wouldn't be allowed within shitting distance of such a list in any other self-respecting year.

So here are The Incredible Suit's ten least worst films of 2010, presented in reverse order of least-worstness in a pathetic attempt to drum up some excitement as you make your way towards the bottom rubbishest movie of the year. Go enthusiasm!

TEN

A dull story about a bunch of wankers told with unmatchable style, wit and skill by one of the world's greatest living directors. David Fincher could direct a film of this blog and make it bearable. He's that good.
Lazy but easily marketable description for idiots: It's Revenge Of The Nerds meets The Net!

NINE

Not just "funny", but also "touching". I know because the internets said so. Julianne Moore and Mark Ruffalo for Best Everything at next year's Oscars.
Lazy but easily marketable description for idiots: It's Desert Hearts (or some other famous lesbian film) meets BBC1's My Family! But funny! And touching!

EIGHT

Satisfyingly engrossing murder mystery populated by well-written characters and directed with style and elegance. The exact opposite of its sequels.
Lazy but easily marketable description for idiots: It's Murder Most Foul meets The Seventh Seal (or some other famous Swedish film)!

SEVEN

You might need the novel as a guidebook, but this is an undeniably massive pair of quality funbags (thanks largely to Mrs Weasley) from start to finish. Not that it actually, you know, finishes as such.
Lazy but easily marketable description for idiots: It's Harry Potter meets Lord Of The Rings! In a tent!

SIX

Uneven but solid entertainment which should spawn a cracking sequel. Hit Girl is this generation's Ripley, only swearier.
Lazy but easily marketable description for idiots: It's Spider-Man meets Batman starring that potty-mouthed kid off of The Exorcist!

FIVE

Occasionally uncomfortable, often hilarious, always brilliant: it's THE FILM THAT TOOK THE WORLD BY SURPRISE! Or at least both of us who saw it. Good job, "marketing department".
Lazy but easily marketable description for idiots: It's Mrs Doubtfire meets Kevin The Teenager!

FOUR

Insanely high expectations may have led to initial disappointment, but this panoply of pixellated punch-ups comes out fighting with every repeated viewing. Quality Edgartainment.
Lazy but easily marketable description for idiots: It's Fight Club meets Grease!

THREE

Nothing new from Pixar, just the effortlessly perfect blend of action, comedy and drama that rival animation studios can only Dream of.
Lazy but easily marketable description for idiots: It's Toy Story meets Toy Story 2!

TWO

Minds were blown, brains were melted, eyes were popped. All of which made a terrible mess, but when it's this entertaining you really can't complain. Unless you're the one cleaning the cinema.
Lazy but easily marketable description for idiots: It's Dreamscape meets that episode of Scrooge McDuck they're all on about!

ONE

The greatest film about a box since The Box. Director Rodrigo Cortés sticks to pleasingly old-school filmmaking while Ryan Rodney Reynolds keeps it grounded. Grounded! Ah, deary me. *wipes eye*

Lazy but easily marketable description for idiots: It's Lifeboat meets Boxing Helena!

So off you pop, "2010". It was semi-nice knowing you. Byeeeeeeee!

Christopher Nolan's Parting Shots

If there's one thing Christopher Nolan knows well, it's how to finish a film. Not in the sense that his ability to sit through the whole of a motion picture is exemplary, even I can do that. What I mean is that nearly all his films have great endings.

Instead of wrapping everything up neatly in the final act before adding a cosy epilogue just so you know the story's definitely over, Nolan uses his final scenes to take the plot somewhere else entirely. A showboating Shyamalanesque twist is one thing, but Nolan's denouements are so much more than that - either extending the story beyond its own boundaries to the point where it feels like the credits are intruding on the rest of the film, or squirting the whole thing back up its own bottom, forcing you to reappraise everything you've just seen.

So here are six great Christopher Nolan films with six great endings, plus the coffee-flavoured chocolate in the packet of Revels that is Insomnia, which buggers up an otherwise perfectly good hypothesis.

*** Obvious statement: CONTAINS SPOILERS, duh. Including a
little one for Inception, but nothing too fun-destroying.***

Following

It's only in the film's final minute that we discover what the whole plot's been leading up to, and it's a far more devious and sinister double reverse counterbluff than we thought it was. In the final shot the bad guy literally disappears into the crowd and you can't quite believe that's how it's going to end. But it is.

Memento

In a film so back to front, upside down and inside out, Memento's ending isn't even anything as simple as the beginning of the story - in the chronologically re-edited version this shot comes over half an hour in. But it's in this scene that our absent-minded hero does the unthinkable to himself, setting up the action for the preceding two hours and leading up to the very first (literal) shots. And that final line: genius.

Insomnia

As if being a distinctly average thriller and, ironically, a good cure for insomnia wasn't enough, Insomnia is the only one of Nolan's films not to follow the pattern that forms the entire basis of my incisive observations. There will obviously be repercussions from the events of the last scene, but they're pedestrian in comparison to, say, Memento's mind-squootling finale. Bad Nolan.

Batman Begins

It was always Batman Begins' job to set up a sequel, and after seeing what Nolan did with a lesser villain like The Scarecrow, to tease The Joker as the next bat-villain was only ever going to cause uncontrollable fanboy tumescence for three long years. No superhero origin film would be complete without a final shot of a man in tights zooming towards camera, and Batman Begins does its duty in a classic shot that, as you can see, doesn't work as a still at all.

And take note, Marvel - this is how you tee up the next chapter: before the credits.

The Prestige

The final reveal through a room full of drowned Hugh Jackmans reveals the terrifying extent of his character's desperation to be a better magician than Christian Bale's, and is so disturbing that you almost forgive the clichéd scene that precedes it in which Bale shoots Jackman and then explains the whole plot to him in the exact amount of time it takes for him to cark it. Almost.

The Dark Knight

Commissioner Gordon unwillingly sends the entire police force after Batman when he sacrifices himself for the good of Gotham by taking the rap for Harvey Dent's dastardly deeds, and the dark knight goes on the lam for what looks like four more years of geek frustration. In the space of a couple of minutes you realise this superhero is even more heroic than you thought, and you just want to give him a hug. And a Strepsil.

Inception

Everything's wrapped up, Ellen Page has stopped asking silly questions and you can finally stop frowning like Leonardo DiCaprio in Shutter Island. And then, just as you're reaching for your coat and accidentally tipping the remains of your popcorn over your neighbour, Nolan drops that final shot on you. What a bastard.

To comment on this post, click here

Dear Play.com

I have been waiting over a week for this.

UNACCEPTABLE.

To comment on this post, click here

Thank You Google

To comment on this post, click here

Inception

I could tell you what I thought about Inception, but I don't think you want me to spoil anything before you go and see it for yourself. Which, obviously, you would be absolutely Crackers Patel not to do. So instead, here are some thoughts about a piece of promotional material I was given when I went to see it:

It looks absolutely beautiful; it's expensively glossy and the colour palette is gorgeous.

But it's not just about looks. It's also substantial and weighty, thanks to the way it folds in on itself. As you delve into its inner layers, it expands perfectly to reveal goggle-boggling images, a plot which reads like Dreamscape plus The Matrix but infinitely better than both of those films, and a bunch of people in some absolutely Incredible Suits.

Inside are some amazing actors. Leonardo DiCaprio doesn't look like he's holding in a window-shattering fart for once, Joseph Gordon-Levitt looks dashing but a bit silly with a massive shooter and there are too few shots of Tom Hardy and Michael Caine.

If you press your ear to it very hard you can hear Hans Zimmer having the time of his life inside a terrifying nightmare.

I can't describe the final page to you. It's the perfect way to finish but you need to see it for yourself to truly appreciate it.

It's not flawless; there are some parts of it that I need to look at again to work out whether or not they make any sense. Also from end to end it's about 62cm long, and if I'm being honest it could do with being about thirteen percent shorter.

Having said that, as promotional material goes, it is without doubt THE BEST I'VE SEEN THIS YEAR. Especially in comparison to certain others.

You can read what you like into any of the above.

To comment on this metaphor, click here

Intermission

Here's a little story to warm the cockles of your heart.

I tested Mrs The Incredible Suit's knowledge of her favourite blogger and occasional husband by asking which three films I was most looking forward to this summer.

After a pause, she said: "Inception! Er... Toy Story 3! And, um... ooh! The superhero one! Keith Pilgrim!"

I love you Mrs The Incredible Suit.

To express your love for Mrs The Incredible Suit, click here

Marketing Geniuses Do It Again, Only Properly This Time

Having already parped out a fantastic, original poster and an atmospheric trailer for Buried, the forthcoming film about Ryan Rodney Reynolds stuck in a box, Lionsgate have channelled the spirit of titan of poster design Saul Bass to produce this beauty:

In a world of posters full of floating heads and orange-and-blue colour schemes, this is how you make your film stand out. Top marks team.

Although they are quite shamelessly appealing to The Incredible Suit's love of one of the greatest films ever made:

I'm such a sucker.

In other properly-marketed-movie news:

Yummy.

To comment on this post, click here

Bwwwoooooooowwwwww Didididididididi Bwwwwwooooowwwwww*

Every other movie blog and his dog have already made this point, but that's never stopped The Incredible Suit in the past so I don't see why it should now. Anyway you shouldn't even be reading any other movie blog so if you've already seen this you've only got yourselves to blame. I'll keep it brief and to the point:

• The music on the Inception trailer is great
• It's not from Hans Zimmer's score, which probably isn't even finished yet
• It's by some chap called Zack Hemsey
• Here it is without Leonardo DiCaprio wittering all over it:

If you amble over to the official Inception website you can hear a sniplet of Zimmer's actual score, which is reassuringly Zimmery and points to an inevitable soundtrack purchase come July.

The Incredible Suit is increasingly of the opinion that some of the music being used for trailers these days is good enough to be released on a compilation of its own. One of the Star Trek trailers used this piece by trailer-music-go-to-guys Two Steps From Hell, which - despite being alarmingly similar to Zimmer's Batman Begins score - would have sat quite comfortably with Michael Giacchino's eventual (and excellent) Star Trek soundtrack:



So the campaign starts here for the creation of a trailer music album which I propose to call "Now That's What The Incredible Suit Calls Trailer Music That Doesn't Feature In The Film Or On The Official Soundtrack", which will feature Bishop's Countdown from Aliens as a bonus track because it's been used in almost every sci-fi trailer since 1986.



*Thanks to Jo Stroud for transcribing the Inception trailer music lyrics

To comment on this post, click here

The Incredible Suit's Summer Preview!

It's that time of year when I like to look ahead to the forthcoming blockbuster season and contemplate all the films I'm looking forward to so much that I can barely stop my skeleton from popping out and dancing the macarena with excitement.

So here's a rundown of The Incredible Suit's most hotly anticipated summer movies, in alphabetical order so as not to give any undue preference to one particular film. It was a tough job narrowing these babies down, I can tell you!

And here's a selection of trailers for more of my top picks:







To comment on this post, click here