Point Blank

[Jeff]

Based on Donald E. Westlake’s novel The Hunter, Point Blank is an edgy neo-noir that merges a classic revenge story with imaginative New Wave style. Directed by John Boorman (Deliverance), Point Blank stars Lee Marvin in full anti-hero mode as a thief out for payback. The film also features an outstanding supporting cast that includes Angie Dickenson, Carroll O’Connor and Keenan Wynn.

DVD special features include:

* Commentary by directors John Boorman and Steven Soderbergh
* Vintage Featurettes: The Rock Part 1 and The Rock Part 2
* Theatrical Trailer
* Subtitles: English, French & Spanish

[Harold Gervais]

More Lee Marvin is always a good thing. Now will somebody please release Prime Cut?

[drpauligari]

Jeff, do you have a release date?

[ben d banana]

Andre, since your earlier thread on this film has apparently been pruned, it would be nice if you could re-post your original comments again here. That is, if you still have a copy handy.

[viciousliar]

What fabulous news - I can't wait!!! Point Blank looked stunning on WS laserdisc with a very sharp focus and brilliant, almost surreal colors, so the anamorphic DVD will no doubt be a killer! There are so many breathtaking sequences in this violently beautiful film, but if I have to single out just one scene, it must be the famous beginning - it's a knock-out - talk about setting the pace for the rest of the movie!! Besides, Angie Dickinson never looked more delectable on celluloid.
Point of fact, Point Blank is both my fave Marvin and Dickinson feature.

[Hrossa]

Could anyone shed some light on what "The Rock Part I" and "The Rock Part II" might be?

I hope they're not in some way connected with The Rock of Criterion fame and/or a pseudo-documentary on a jail break.

[Andre Jurieu]

Andre, since your earlier thread on this film has apparently been pruned, it would be nice if you could re-post your original comments again here. That is, if you still have a copy handy.

Sure. I know Henrik wanted to make it clear that he does not believe Point Blank should be associated with the term "noir", but rather considered as a Gangster genre film. I'm still of the opinion that Point Blank functions effectively as a neo-noir. Details, details, details... Once again, I apologize for the length.

Wait, wait, wait: here comes Lee Marvin. Thank God! He's always drunk and violent.

(To Mel Gibson) Did Braveheart run away? Did Payback run away?

There’s a moment in John Boorman’s Point Blank (1967) when, after shagging the night before, Angie Dickinson’s Chris asks Lee Marvin’s Walker if he knows her last name. Apathetic to the underlying sense of an insufficient connection between the two, Walker briefly ponders before justly asking if she even knows his first name. Of course, Chris doesn’t and neither does the viewer, and thus she smiles at the mutual acknowledgement that they do not share any deep emotional bond or understand one another. Perhaps the beat is a small statement on the intrinsic isolating consequences caused by casual sex during the sexual revolution, but more notably it’s also recognition that Walker’s identity itself remains a mystery. In fact, somehow, I doubt that even Walker knows his own first name.

I first watched Point Blank late one night, before Gibson’s Payback debuted. Instead of studying for exams, I joined the film late and was disorientated immediately, but also staggered by its effectiveness. I recently watched the film again and it remains like nothing I’d ever heard or seen. It’s important to make that distinction. If there is one thing Boorman’s film excels at it’s the innovative use of sound. Throughout the film one could be as astounded by the noise as by the silence. The spectrum includes a dichotomy of loud gunshots and repetitious marching as well as a quiet elevator and silenced footsteps. At one point an entire battle of the sexes is waged by the noise of household appliances. The cavernous sounds that Boorman chooses to merge with his disjointed visuals are initially so jolting and abrasive that viewers can easily relate to Walker’s disorientated mental state. As we hear him boldly stomp through a hollow, tranquil, cold corridor we realize his deadly determination as his steps feel like gunshots. Sounds clash with one another and pound into our head as voices echo from some other time and place, as if these words came from some distant world. Boorman plunges us deep into Walker’s chaotic confusion and then orders us to swim to shore alone.

Walker begins the film emerging from a prison cell after being left for dead. It’s an odd image of reincarnation, in that the previous events have at once merged the ideas of capital punishment and imprisonment for the criminal - two notions assumed to be mutually-exclusive. Though his previous actions in life are never explicitly displayed, we assume Walker to be a criminal simply through Marvin’s persona and his participation in the one unlawful act we witness. While he appears to be conflicted about the initial outcome of this job and his execution and/or imprisonment seem unjust, after essentially serving his time for his sins in a solitary haze of memory, Walker then sets out for some severe retribution. Rising from the archaic atmosphere of Alcatraz, he drifts back to civilization determined to commence an old school reckoning. It’s as if Walker is out to prove his prior conviction, while premature, will now be warranted based on his postmortem actions.

This brings up a crucial question inherent to Point Blank: Is Walker still dead? Escaping his confinement, Walker seems to further cleanse himself of his prior crimes as he drifts back to San Francisco in murky cold waters that have killed all those who previously attempted the swim to shore. He then materializes, via an odd voice-over by a female guide, on a boat that tours The Rock accompanied by a strange informant who supplies him details regarding those that betrayed him. Walker’s companion appears to display an omnipotent authority over the players involved in the sordid production. Though this unknown man almost flaunts his divine yet ruthless control, he also remains mysterious and illusive throughout the events that follow. Supplied with only as much information as required, Walker – a great name for a man roaming through LA, stalking his prey without compassion – appears to be playing avenging angel, while his cohort feels comfortable as informed deity. Throughout the film, Walker’s surroundings shift and alter without warning. At one moment he is accepting the apparent suicide of his wife and with a blink he adjusts his eyes to a barren apartment. He escapes a sniper on a bleak, sterile, concrete flood-way only to be transported poolside to a cozy house in the hills, where his handler manifests out of nowhere. He drifts through town in a psychedelic swirl of color and jazz, but rarely interacts with those around him. He barely speaks a word and has fever dreams rather than blissful sleep. He is relentless and single-minded in his convictions to the point of dysfunction. In one scene, Dickinson’s Chris vainly attempts to wildly smack him out of his stupor, angrily trying to make him emotionally coherent, or at least coax a reaction, without much success. Instead Walker leaves her exhausted as he lurches away to watch TV. Their conversations are but a few words anyways. Walker is so cold he doesn’t even bleed. Is Walker actually alive at all? Is he a ghost or a walking corpse? Is this a lucid dream, waking life, or disturbing dirge? Is he just dead inside, or is he just plain dead? The question may not have a satisfying rational answer, but throughout the narrative Walker is often addressed as dead by those he hunts down, some even lamenting that they wish they could join him. It appears as if his death has allowed him to seek vengeance without remorse or guilt, since he no longer must answer for his crimes. Perhaps Walker understands his soul is already doomed to hell and maybe he was already there in that jail cell. The question of whether Walker is dead or alive even seems to attach itself to other characters, with Carroll O’Connor’s corporate gangster Brewster exclaiming that Fairfax, the man who writes the checks, is “a dead man! He just doesn’t know it yet”. Once we meet Fairfax and understand his relationship with Walker it becomes more apparent that they both dwell in some strange state of moral and existential limbo.

However, Walker’s stated purpose is a bit more distinct than in previous film noir. Often, the film noir (anti)hero is seeking to answer some sort of existential, spiritual, or moral question. In Mate’s D.O.A., Edmond O’Brien’s Frank Bigelow seeks to discover why he has been sentenced to die in 24 hours by a man he doesn’t even know. Similarly, Marvin’s own Charlie Strom wonders why Johnny North (Cassavetes) would accept his death so willingly in Don Siegel version of The Killers. However, having already been betrayed and killed, Walker claims the blood he is spilling is not about any central moral question, but instead purely financial or commercial. He isn’t actually all that concerned with revenge over those that did him wrong, but instead just wants to get back what he’s owed – a measly $93,000. That paltry sum doesn’t seem to be worth so many bodies in the grand scheme of things, but the determination with which it is sought by Walker and guarded by the Organization speaks volumes about Point Blank's intentions. It isn’t about betrayal, it’s all about money.

What Point Blank does better than other neo-noirs I’ve watched, including the more figurative The Usual Suspects, is indict the corporate world as the new crime cartel. In Point Blank's sun drenched LA, organized crime has incorporated and risen from a meager mob to weave itself into the fabric of corporate America, with all its legal sanctity and limited liability. By revising organized crime into a corporation, complete with skyscrapers, offices, bureaucracy, shareholders, and secretaries, Boorman displays how crime has evolved, or perhaps how low financial structures and institutions have sunk, in the new world order. Walker thinks he’s simply after some mob boss, when in reality he must jump through corporate hoops and off numerous middle managers. Boorman constantly makes the buildings of LA loom ominously over its inhabitants, including Walker. Achieved via a simple pan of the camera, angle of the composition, or position within the frame, the cold concrete dwarfs its urban dwellers and diminishes the power of the individual with its sheer weight within frames. The imposing skyscrapers appear akin to the daunting churches once built to astonish, overwhelm, and cause apprehension in congregations. So enamored with The Organization’s power, men are willing to anxiously off their own best friends in desperate attempts to gain acceptance. In modern times it seems God in spelled C-E-O and his clergy wear suits and ties.

Point Blank excels in exploring the friction and stress caused by the rise of modern corporate America at the expense of the traditional America of the 40s and 50s. The protagonists of most film noirs are often at odds with their surrounding, but Walker’s sensibilities appear downright archaic when exposed to the corporate labyrinth he must navigate through. The Organization isn’t concerned with honor among thieves, or even loyalty - all too willing to off one another when fiscally appropriate - but merely uses profit as its commandment. They don’t carry cash, they cut cheques. As Brewster makes clear “There is no money”! Walker remains puzzled that there is no final head to chop, but rather many arms, sighing “there has to be someone”. Even the Organization’s own personnel are confused by the cash flow. Like Brian Wilson, Walker just wasn’t made for these times – his hardened hitman is obsolete now that the corporation has replaced his mob. Crime is no longer about the individual but rather the entity and thus more covert.

Walker may feel more at home in the typical black and white of the traditional film noir, with its dim corners, sinister darkness, and old-school rules. Instead, Walker must deal with the glaring sunlight-drenched colors of modern LA that he is continually adjusting his eyesight to, unable to comprehend this new morality. This thug cannot cloak himself in shadows when exposed in the daylight. Boorman’s choice to expose the noir style and morality to brash sunlight and the modern world reverberates in other neo-noir classics such as Chinatown, Seven, and L.A. Confidential. It’s the sun as a horrific burning spotlight that denies tranquility, allowing us to examine a place we believed to be attractive, that is rotten in reality. Long gone is the dangerous night of the traditional noir that allowed us to accept a cruel world immediately. Point Blank’s sunny atmosphere is the new harsh reality - a façade where we don’t expect immorality instantly until that golden tan turns into a ghastly burn.

The outdated brute also has to grapple with the technology that drives these modern times. Walker is frequently frustrated at contemporary appliances within the modern home (though he seeks refuge in front of the TV). These corporate consumer products seek to replace traditional methods, and signify his demise, but he is determined to fight against them. These appliances of convenience often fuel Walker’s aggression at his position within his surroundings. At one point, while enraged during a mute but earsplitting argument with Chris, he frantically pulls the plug on nearly every appliance in the house, from the blender to the stereo, since they are torturing him with noise. At another point, he blasts away at a speaker-phone with his .38 when notified his cash is a fantasy. Walker clearly has no patience for the convenience of modern machinery.

Furthermore, Walker’s alienation and displacement seems to fracture the film itself. In effect, his mere unexpected, unexplainable presence in this modern world creates a strange schism in its reality, as if equilibrium is impossible in Walker’s presence. The clash between tradition and technology, or simple past and future, seem to manifest itself in the visual style and splintered structure Boorman applies to the film. Many writers state the film’s visuals and editing are inspired by the French New Wave and avant-garde filmmaking. While definitely influenced by both, as illustrated in its fragmented narrative and abrupt flashbacks, I wouldn’t claim Point Blank to be an avant-garde noir, though it remains a unique creation. The hallucinogenic visuals contrast well with the sterile corporate setting. Boorman continues to break with classic noir conventions by avoiding the normal amount of verbose, confusing explanation we expect in a noir in favor of a more silent, visual exposition. Instead of being puzzled by the explanation of the narrative, we are puzzled by the juxtaposition of images. The images themselves are less constricted as well, since Boorman frequently films open spaces and desolate terrain rather than cramped streets and claustrophobic corridors. Also, no narrator is employed to guide the narrative either. Instead, we are only exposed to the distant voices that suddenly reveal themselves in Walker’s subconscious. These choices work to further isolate Walker within his harsh surroundings.

However, for all the estrangement in Point Blank, there is also a considerable amount of sexual tension. In the opening moments, Walker lurches through a bar in a drunken stupor, only to be pulled to the floor by Reese. As Reese lies on top of Walker, both horizontal in the frame, he pleads to Walker that he “needs him”. The image is paralleled by one between Walker and Lynne while they ponder their (marital?) situation in a constricting jail cell. Later, in stylized slow-motion, Walker storms into Lynne’s apartment after her betrayal, clutches her until she is unconscious, and then blows away the bed she sleeps in. During a rough, sloppy (realistic) fight sequence, Walker brutally punches a man in the groin. The gangster even forces himself upon a startled secretary in order to enter an office. He first encounters Chris while she is still in bed and later requests she sleep with Reese.

SpoilerShow

Walker then snuffs out a naked, groveling Reese by dragging him by his bed sheets, before tossing him off a balcony.

Even the seduction that takes place is violent. During a noisy domestic dispute, Walker aggressively pursues his sister-in-law, Chris, only to be walloped incoherent by a wooden pool cue before they land up in the sack. Afterward, we witness a seemingly endless tumble in the sheets where partners constantly switch identities, from Reese, to Chris, to Walker, to Lynne, and over again. It feels as if Point Blank understands that though crime is lurid, it remains sexy, and that sex and violence are forever connected. However, it also conveys the fact that both sex and violence may isolate the participants in the aftermath of their actions.

Adrift in this contemporary setting that feels foreign to him; Walker must leave LA and return to an archaic Alcatraz for his journey to resolve. Having his story start and end at Alcatraz is apt, considering the compound serves as symbol of a past he is more familiar with. It’s here that he can finally claim his money, because it remains the only place where The Organization still allows cash transactions. However, once the cash is out in the open and the final corporate secret revealed, Walker chooses to enigmatically disappear. In need of a man with his skills, Walker is even offered a position within the Organization for eliminating “the competition”. Walker would be the right-hand man to the man upstairs and would assume a seat on the board of directors simply because he has eliminated its members. After painstaking effort and a mounting body-count, why does Walker lurk back into the shadows without claiming his bounty? Why does he refuse his seat in heaven? Perhaps, it’s because Walker believes it’s actually a throne in hell. It may also be that he realizes the futility of constantly chasing down a monetary prize that was never rightfully his. Understanding that he has become a pawn to the modern commercial world he despises, Walker drifts back into the shadows to distance himself from the masquerading devil that is corporate America. Conceivably, Walker values the fact that his individual morality, however monstrous, is at least transparent rather than veiled in propriety, and for this clarity his is willing to remain in existential limbo. Unwilling to play patsy to the very operation he sought to destroy, Walker retreats into the comforting darkness of classic film-noir, knowing he has waged his individual war and no longer needs to function as corporate cog.

[Fletch F. Fletch]

Here is a link to a fascinating article comparing the book that Point Blank was based on with the film and with Mel Gibson's crap remake, Payback:

http://www.impossiblefunky.com/archives ... ?IshNum=11

What is quite interesting is that this article also goes into great detail about the original director's cut of Payback before Mel got his dirty fingers all over it. Interesting reading to say the least.

Also check out here for another examination of the bootleg version of Payback:
http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/Nook/5171 ... otleg.html

[dvdane]

It is no secret that I am very uncomfortable with the notion of neo-noir. The reason is, that most research into neo-noir more or less is the same, as if one would say, that "Deer Hunter" was a neo-WW2 film.

Film Noir is a very strictly defined subgenre, I would even argue that its not a subgenre but a period instead, associated with both the Gangster and the Detective subgenre, both belonging to Crime genre. Its defined by variety of themes fatalism, corruption, post war depression (and more), its distinct black and white cinematography and some unique character types.

I find most of the studies into neo-noir more an excuse for academics to make up arguments, which they then force upon films, to make their postulates appear valid. For instance the French films of the 30s, like Quai du Brumes and Le Corbeau are now suggested to be Film Noir, not so much because they posses any of the qualities of the American Film Noir, but because the French, who coined the word, should have dismissed French films in favor of American films. Such an argument is silly. Already during the war, these films were by the French ascribed a "dark" quality, and one may call them "Noir Realism", but they are as different to Film Noir as a film like "I was a fugitive to the Chain Gang". The same about neo-noir. Where filmmakers like Polanski and Schrader talk about taking qualities from Film Noir and place them in contemporary setting, it is instantly neo-noir, and those who argue this omit a long lasting quality about specific themes, characters, stories, etc. Im willing to strech myself to that films like "Harper" and "Klute" can be identified and read as a sort of colour-noir, but to me films later than the early seventies are mere excersises, in the same way that some directors also use the format of the musicals of the 30s in films today.

If you use any number of themes, characters, motifs, techniques, styles, whathaveyou, from old films, its homage and hypertextuality. If you take one sentence from a film noir and use it today, its neo-noir and an entire genre for itself. That is streching transtextuality quiet a distance.

However, via detour (which btw imo is the best noir film ever made), we arrive at "Point Blank" by Boorman, imo one of the most influential and important American films of the 60s.

Personally I think that Andre is doing the same mistake that all the believers of neo-noir is doing, namely taking a little here and there from Noir and squeezing a text into it, making it look as.

Before WW2 gangsters were tough guys, who didn't take shit from nobody. They were guys like Edward G. Robinson and James Cagney. But during the war America changed from small independant business to corperate business. Towns got broken up, stores moved to stripmalls, and the country became concrete and highways.

The first gangsterfilm to fully mark this change was Haskell's "I walk alone" from 1948. Lancaster and Douglas were partners before the war. Lancaster went to jail and now released he realises, that everything has changed. Everything is about "legit" business. His former partner is now a suit and the gang is a board where everything is voted for. One of the best gangster films ever made, it played a significant part for "Point Blank".

"Point Blank" is a boiled down version. The story is as simple as Walker, as straight forward. Walker is a pawn, will always be a pawn, and as he just wants his money, he is used to take down the "organisation".

There are no existential questions in "Point Blank", just who has my money. It is as simple as that.

Why I love "Point Blank" so much is because its avant garde to the teeth. It displays some of the most complex elliptic editing of its period, which even today is ahead of its time. The entire LAX ellipsis is still today required study and is as important in the understanding of editing as Eisensteins Odessa sequence.

[Andre Jurieu]

...as if one would say, that "Deer Hunter" was a neo-WW2 film.

I don't know about calling it a neo-WW2 film since it centers itself in Vietnam, but I can understand how someone might declare Deer Hunter to be a neo-war film, in that it modernizes, or re-envisions, the traditional classic-war film characteristics in order to give us a different view of war that more closely reflects the current contemporary climate. Since Vietnam took place in a different era than WW2, occurring after the emergence of the atomic bomb, and it was entered into under much different circumstances, it requires a different perspective from the traditional war films that were created during WW2. Deer Hunter is definitely a war movie, but it's a dramatically different viewpoint of war than say The Green Berets or even The Best Years of Our Lives (from what I remember - actually Deer Hunter and Best Years... would be a great double-bill). That's why I don't have a problem with the "neo" distinction being applied to certain genres, since it implies that certain characteristics remain, but the perspective has been altered to reflect the sensibilities of a different/modern era. Hence, to me at least, the term "Neo-Noir" doesn't imply it is Film Noir, but merely that it contains some of the same elements adapted for a modern perspective.

Film Noir is a very strictly defined subgenre, I would even argue that its not a subgenre but a period instead, associated with both the Gangster and the Detective subgenre, both belonging to Crime genre.

Completely agree.

Its defined by variety of themes fatalism, corruption, post war depression (and more), its distinct black and white cinematography and some unique character types.

Again, I completely agree. However, I still see some of these same characteristics in Point Blank, most notably the fatalism and corruption, but also a sense of depression (which may be related to the on-going war).

I find most of the studies into neo-noir more an excuse for academics to make up arguments, which they then force upon films, to make their postulates appear valid. For instance the French films of the 30s, like Quai du Brumes and Le Corbeau are now suggested to be Film Noir, not so much because they posses any of the qualities of the American Film Noir, but because the French, who coined the word, should have dismissed French films in favor of American films. Such an argument is silly. Already during the war, these films were by the French ascribed a "dark" quality, and one may call them "Noir Realism", but they are as different to Film Noir as a film like "I was a fugitive to the Chain Gang".

Agreed. But again, I'm not saying that Point Blank should be lumped into Film Noir, but that Neo-Noir is an alteration of traditional Noir characteristic that shouldn't require us the adhere to the same strict guidelines of what we consider to Film Noir. The differences between film noir and neo-noir are just as, if not more, important as the similarities.

The same about neo-noir. Where filmmakers like Polanski and Schrader talk about taking qualities from Film Noir and place them in contemporary setting, it is instantly neo-noir, and those who argue this omit a long lasting quality about specific themes, characters, stories, etc. Im willing to strech myself to that films like "Harper" and "Klute" can be identified and read as a sort of colour-noir, but to me films later than the early seventies are mere excersises, in the same way that some directors also use the format of the musicals of the 30s in films today.

Well, I don't know about characters and stories, because if those aspects were to repeat themselves, then I'm not really sure why the film needs to be made - unless it's specifically a remake. However, in comparison to their predecessors, I'd say similar themes arise in the films that some term to be neo-noir, though they may be created through slightly different means. Also, I'm not really too disgruntled by filmmakers attempting exercises with genres, which might be why I'm so forgiving and accepting of neo-noirs. I guess I might not hold on to the defined rules of genre filmmaking as much as I should, but it's the alterations and differences in film genres that I find most intriguing. I guess that's why the switch to contemporary settings fascinates me so.

I believe the advent of color has made it difficult to distinguish what modern films function as noir, because the most distinguishable/ noticeable characteristic of film noir was its specific cinematography. Without pools of darkness and harsh lights, the style cannot be replicated very well in modern filmmaking. Thus, narrative noir elements display themselves a bit more often. As well, it seems apparent that some of the elements of noir are being mixed with other genres more often. That mixing causes a great deal of confusion, but I still believe a modern film with a significant amount of noir characteristics, should be considered a neo-noir on some level.

If you use any number of themes, characters, motifs, techniques, styles, whathaveyou, from old films, its homage and hypertextuality. If you take one sentence from a film noir and use it today, its neo-noir and an entire genre for itself. That is streching transtextuality quiet a distance.

I agree with that point, but I hope I'm not conveying such an extreme notion through my writing. One line of dialogue certainly does not constitute inclusion within a genre.

There are no existential questions in "Point Blank", just who has my money. It is as simple as that.

But I think there is a very basic existential question being asked in Point Blank, dealing with the idea of Walker's existence and what is motivating him to exist within this modern world. I believe the avant-garde style employed throughout signifies that Walker is not completely dealing within the normal reality that exists in any other gangster/crime film. The film is so fractured and disjointed in its structure that you have to question whether Walker exists at all, since it appears the film is derived through Walker's own mental state.

Why I love "Point Blank" so much is because its avant garde to the teeth. It displays some of the most complex elliptic editing of its period, which even today is ahead of its time. The entire LAX ellipsis is still today required study and is as important in the understanding of editing as Eisensteins Odessa sequence.

Could not agree more!

[rossbrew]

Well, time to cross one more title off the list of Top 10 Missing-in-Action films on disc- now if we can only get O!Lucky Man and Prince of the City...

[dvdane]

Andre, I wasn't attacking your text, but thanks for agreeing

But I think there is a very basic existential question being asked in Point Blank, dealing with the idea of Walker's existence and what is motivating him to exist within this modern world.

From a strictly narrative point-of-view, there is none. Walker is a dinosaur, and old-timer, who just wants his money. He has no care or concern beyond that. He is "single-minded", there is only one questions: My Money.

That Walker doesn't think is demonstrated in two central scenes. First in the conclusion and following the LAX ellipsis, second as Walker stands before the headman himself (and within the realisation-ellipsis). These are the only two points where Walker thinks beyond the moment and the place.

I would say that you are partly thinking ahead of the story, and letting the use of concret and desolated LA scenery get to you. While the film does suggest that the social structure is breaking down, here the strip-club sequence is pretty interesting in comparison, it reflects upon the growing anonymity of society in a rapidly growing community, where intimacy has been replaced by concret and highways.

If Walker is a person who can or cannot live within such a world is irrelevant to the story. His mere presence is enough. What happends after he gets his money (I wont give away the end) is irrelevant.

I believe the avant-garde style employed throughout signifies that Walker is not completely dealing within the normal reality that exists in any other gangster/crime film. The film is so fractured and disjointed in its structure that you have to question whether Walker exists at all, since it appears the film is derived through Walker's own mental state.

I bolded an important use of words: normal reality. That is indeed a good use of words versus the dichotomy of the mise-en-scene. The majority of the film is quiet ordinary in editing, scope composition and so forth. But when we approach the point-of-view of Walker, the film employs avant-garde techniques, from simple rapid zooms, to out of sync inserts to very complex ellipsis.

To me its clear that Walker exists. He is very well alive. But what I ask myself is what is his perception of reality, and that is where the avant-garde techniques enter.

[Andre Jurieu]

From a strictly narrative point-of-view, there is none. Walker is a dinosaur, and old-timer, who just wants his money. He has no care or concern beyond that. He is "single-minded", there is only one questions: My Money.

That Walker doesn't think is demonstrated in two central scenes. First in the conclusion and following the LAX ellipsis, second as Walker stands before the headman himself (and within the realisation-ellipsis). These are the only two points where Walker thinks beyond the moment and the place.

I guess from a strictly narrative POV, the film is simply functioning in a reality. However, I'm always a bit skeptical of Walker's existence/mortality while watching the film simply due to the method in which the film begins. The supporting characters are all correct when they say that Walker "should be dead". He suffers what should be a fatal gunshot wound and re-emerges as this disorientated, lethargic, lethal, threatening presence that even looms within the frame initially. He's almost monstrous and his resurrection borders on metaphysical. There really is no way that a man suffering from a gunshot wound could swim back to San Francisco from Alcatraz. Then Walker simply materializes with his own personal guide after some amount of time that the viewer is never completely made aware of. I'm willing to make a logical jump (you have to with some films) and say this is possible in reality, but I remain skeptical that a straight-forward logical narrative is easily acceptable, especially given the style employed throughout the film. The fact that he doesn't seem to think adds to my interpretation that he is in fact some sort of walking-zombie within both the film's narrative and the modern world that surrounds him.

I would say that you are partly thinking ahead of the story, and letting the use of concret and desolated LA scenery get to you.

Perhaps I am, but I love films that allow you to do so. Point Blank seems to enjoy its own lurid, murky details so much, that I can't help but examine and scrutinize its text for various interpretations.

If Walker is a person who can or cannot live within such a world is irrelevant to the story. His mere presence is enough. What happends after he gets his money (I wont give away the end) is irrelevant.

I agree his presence is enough for the film to work and function properly, but I believe the question of whether or not he is able to exist within this world is sort of fundamental if/once you begin to wonder if he is in fact living or not. Of course, that is purely a decision the viewer must make for themselves. I'm of the opinion that Boorman deliberately makes those first moments with Walker intentionally hazy to displace both subject and viewer from their regular position so that they may question the reality of the narrative that follows. I also think what happens after he gets his money is of great important and purpose.

To me its clear that Walker exists. He is very well alive. But what I ask myself is what is his perception of reality, and that is where the avant-garde techniques enter.

... and I guess to me it isn't clear at all, and the avant-garde style becomes even more interesting and appealing if questions of reality and existence are brought about through it (I've even heard some interpretations that the entire film is a dream before Walker croaks, which I'm less fond of). Personally, the film works through both viewpoints - both as straight-forward, single-minded debt-collection and as cloudy meditation on essential masculine motivations and purpose.

Andre, I wasn't attacking your text, but thanks for agreeing

Don't worry, I wasn't offended. I'm just glad you're posting comments again. I always enjoy a good discussion.

[oldsheperd]

One of the reasons why there is no such thing as neo-noir is because film noir originally has its roots in the post WW2 Cold War Paranoia of the forties and 50's. Therefore it's often described as a movement. Like the counter-culture of the 60's was a movement. You can't have a neo-counter culture because there is no social structure today that is akin to the 60's, you Dirty Hippies!

[Andre Jurieu]

Isn't that just restating what Henrik has already said?

One of the reasons why there is no such thing as neo-noir is because film noir originally has its roots in the post WW2 Cold War Paranoia of the forties and 50's. Therefore it's often described as a movement.

... but that position assumes that people who use the term "neo-noir" believe that neo-noir = film noir, which simply isn't the case. Everyone knows film noir is associated with a specific era of film history and its characteristics spring forth from the fact it was created within this specific time and place. Everyone knows that film noir can be considered its own distinct artistic "movement", even though it's only thought of in such terms when viewed in retrospect. American filmmakers were not really consciously aware that they were creating a "movement" at the time.

When I refer to something as being neo-noir, I'm not saying it's the exact same thing as film noir or that it has somehow completely replicated every aspect of film noir. What I am saying is that it has replicated some of the same characteristics of film noir, thereby creating similarities to traditional film noir, albeit in a contemporary (or future) setting or filtered through contemporary filmmaking techniques. Neo-noir is not just a film noir movie made today, nor is it just attempting to be another film noir movie. It is usually using certain aspects of film noir to comment on either the current climate or some future society. As Henrik pointed out, Film Noir often involved themes just as fatalism, corruption, and post-war depression/anxiety/paranoia. Well, I'm fairly certain these same mind-sets are present today, and that filmmakers may be able to capture these same manners of thought within a film made today through the use of certain aspects of film noir. However, what they are capturing is a function, or reflection, of events at the time - such as Watergate, or Vietnam, or stock market crashes, or Iran-Contra hearings, or Presidential impeachments, or Y2K paranoia, or large corporate conglomerates, or fears over technology. It is not correct to call these movies "film noir" just because they capture these mentalities by using film noir techniques. Using such terminology would be somewhat of a bastardization of what the term "film noir" is meant to be associated to - WW2 anxiety. However, I feel the term "neo-noir" is correct in describing these films in order to make a distinction that they are using film noir characteristics in a new context. People seem to assume using the term "neo-noir" is a form of disrespect to the term "film noir". Personally, I think it's a display of respect, because it highlights the influence that film noir has had on the film, and seeks to make a clear distinction between the two groups.

Neo noir is also not seeking to be its own "movement" specific to a period of time either. It's merely a term used to describe films that are created infrequently that capture certain aspects of film noir within their chosen setting and hopefully capture something about contemporary times. There is no specific time period for neo-noir. A neo-noir could be made today, and we might not see another one for years if no one chooses to make these types of films.

Like the counter-culture of the 60's was a movement. You can't have a neo-counter culture because there is no social structure today that is akin to the 60's, you Dirty Hippies!

This sounds strange to me. There is still a counter-culture that exists today and there will always be a counter-culture that exists in society, simply because there will always be a segment of the population that will not want to exist within the norms of traditional society. It's merely that the contemporary counter-culture will not be waging the same battles as the one that occurred in the 60s, because they have there own specific problems to deal with. I'm not really sure why the "movement" part is so important. The counter-culture of the 60s is just that - a movement against the norms of society held at this point in history that took place in the 60s. Someone could choose to start a counter-culture movement today, but the battles they wage will be a reflection of contemporary society - they won't be an attempt to recapture the glory of the 60s. You are correct in saying that "there is no social structure today that is akin to the 60's", but any contemporary counter culture would arise, and be a function, or reflection of the social structures that are present today. You narrow the perspective when you believe that a counter-culture must be the exact same as the one that the hippies decided to create in the 60s. Today's counter-culture could turn out to be created through bloggers on the internet for all we know. The same rules do not have to apply.

[dvdane]

The supporting characters are all correct when they say that Walker "should be dead". He suffers what should be a fatal gunshot wound and re-emerges as this disorientated, lethargic, lethal, threatening presence that even looms within the frame initially. He's almost monstrous and his resurrection borders on metaphysical. There really is no way that a man suffering from a gunshot wound could swim back to San Francisco from Alcatraz.

That is the $64,000 question the film doesn't answer.

On one side the film supports the idea that Walker is dead and the film is taking place "somewhere else"; the juxtaposition between the opening shot on Alcrataz and the LAX ellipsis, the desolation of the empty Rock and the ending itself.

But it also allows for a "metaphysical" reading, where Walker is like an avenging angel, returning from the dead to "get his money".

And finally, Walker is one tough son of a bitch and it wouldn't surprise me if he out of spite did survive that wound, who spits Death in the face and tell him to goddamn wait until he has the time to die.

[jcelwin]

I have no idea about the theories about noir, but I was curious about a couple of things and was hoping that someone could explain a few things to me.

I'm going to quote from earlier post:

"Film Noir is a very strictly defined subgenre, I would even argue that its not a subgenre but a period instead, associated with both the Gangster and the Detective subgenre, both belonging to Crime genre."

I'm not sure I understand this, could you explain what is meant by this, especially when noir is referd to it as "...not a subgenre but a period instead...".

Also, it has been stated that:
"Its defined by variety of themes fatalism, corruption, post war depression (and more), its distinct black and white cinematography and some unique character types."
I'm also unsure what you mean by this, can you explain?

And:
"Everyone knows film noir is associated with a specific era of film history and its characteristics spring forth from the fact it was created within this specific time and place."
Sorry, I don't Do you mean that film noir is only film noir if it come from a particular period?

[skuhn8]

As far as period or era, Film Noir came about during WWII "restrictions", if you will. During the war years travel and outdoor shooting became more difficult, due to the albeit-loser US wartime rationing. Use of enclosed studio sets became increasingly popular, so popular that more productions were being crammed into smaller studio spaces, hence the feeling of claustrophobia. This coupled with a move to a more fatalistic view of character (as opposed to say a giant gorilla offering itself as your antagonist) leading to an internalised conflict results in what we call Film Noir....and a host of other elements I'm sure. But it really isn't a genre as it is more like a "phase" (or period as mentioned before) in the gangster genre.

[Andre Jurieu]

That is the $64,000 question the film doesn't answer.

Very true. I think the ambiguity of answer is part of the reason why I love this film so much. Perhaps it's the $93,000 question?

Everyone knows film noir is associated with a specific era of film history and its characteristics spring forth from the fact it was created within this specific time and place.

Sorry, I don't Do you mean that film noir is only film noir if it come from a particular period?

I knew I going to catch some smilie-wrath for using the word "everyone". Look, I don't mean to say that it's some sort of conclusive fact that everyone should accept as the only fundamental truth about film noir, but it does appear to be commonly accepted that film noir is a term used to describe a particular type and style of American filmmaking that occurred between the 1940s and 1950s.

When I made that statement that is being quoted above, I was addressing a particular POV that the term "film noir" should only be applied to film within this particular period due to the fact that "film noir" should be considered some type of "movement". I was not lending my complete support to this viewpoint, but I was making that particular statement in order to concede that this viewpoint is widely held to those people who believe strongly in strict guidelines for what film noir is meant to be. In fact, I think it's a bit too rigid to say that the term "film noir" should only be applied to film between this specific year and that specific year. I'd be willing to adhere to a more flexible definition. The point I was actually trying to make is that there is definitely a difference between film noir and neo-noir, and though the terms are related, they are not exactly alike. I'm not saying we all have to agree on our definitions of film genres, but it does appear to be generally accepted (by film scholars, critics, enthusiasts, etc.) that film noir is directly linked to the American filmmaking made in the 40s and 50s. You can attach whatever meaning you want to the term, if the description I gave seems so offensive to you. Considering the term was created by French film critics when they were attempting to describe the films they loved from this period of filmmaking, it's really not my call as to what the definitive interpretation to the term is. I was simply willing to concede this point in my discussion of legitimacy of the term "neo-noir".

[skuhn8]

Film Noir
R.I.P.
1941-1958
(Maltese Falcon - Touch of Evil)

[dvdane]

Do you mean that film noir is only film noir if it come from a particular period?

In its most strict definition, yes, that and place. The term was coined by the French, who after WW2 got several years of American films at once, so to speak, and thus could see a pattern some films demonstrated.

The original definition of "film noir" was stories which took place in an urban setting, which focussed on the lone, often introverted, hero, who often was a victim of either society or crime. Pessimism, fatalism and general "dark" moods coloured the scene. Often a unique female character was part of the play, the femme fatale, and the overall context was subversive versus the general American ideology. This is very simplified. The original period was "Maltese Falcon" (1941) to "Touch of Evil" (1958), and it peaked in number of films between 1946 to 1950.

Working from the base, the end remained the same, as the contribution basically stopped after 1956, but the beginning has in later years been moved to 1941, as the first film to show a significant portion of film noir elements was "Stranger on the third floor".

Especially from the early 70s, the subgenre or period was analysed from various approached, such as motif, tone, mood, iconography, character, style, tradition (narrative, ideology), narrative patterns, paranoia, male and female.

The reason I argue that film noir is limited is, that I see film noir as a "field", a combination of elements, for me mainly character, sexuality, style (texture), ideology and motif, which creates an unique field.

Film noir was unchallenged until the 70s, where, especially because of the association with Chandler, films like "The Long Goodbye", "Farewell, my Lovely" and "Chinatown" where mentioned by critics as contemporary film-noir in order to describe them and it only took a few years, before the use of the word became non-discriminatory, as Christine Glenhill in 78 openly used the term contemporary film-noir in her analysis of "Klute".

These films had no relationship with film noir at all, but merely took use of a source to portrait a moral decline in America, and thereby automatically took elements formerly known to film noir and rethought them into contemporary setting. Nor did the directors intend to recreate film noir.

But having the same, or similar source, a similar ideology, proved so strong, that it was called neo-noir, modern-noir, contemporary-noir, colour-noir and much more.

The film that begun it all was "Harper" from 1966. It was in scope, it was in colour (rules out texture and style), it took place in a modern industrial Californian setting, it was openly sexual (rules out sexuality) and characters had a modern / contemporary attitude. But if it tastes like chicken it must be chicken.

The reason why "Harper" was the first was, that it took a classic noir narrative and challenged it by contemporary revisions and even demystifications. And as it survived the challenge, it emerged as something new, hence modern-noir.

The next film to challenge, not only noir but also gangster, was "Point Blank". It has only one very thin connection to film noir, and that is the Freudian displacement of character. Where film noir uses this to challenge the male gender and his sexual identity, "Point Blank" uses it towards the entire narrative, thus creating an abstract. In my opinion, the discussion about "Point Blank" being neo-noir is silly, partly because there are no borrowed elements, partly because the film is so complex and important that the genre discussion quiet honest is unimportant. The real discussion should be how the Freudian displacement of character works within the field and ideology. Is it all a dream? Is it a male fantasy? These are the important questions.

In general, the "genre" colour-noir or contemporary-noir losely descripes films from "Harper" to "Klute". Significantly for them all is, that none of them are noir or attempt to be, but adress one or more elements which film noir took use of, and as these elements were the iconographical ones, the draw attention to them. But, for me, the discussion is very academically. Just like how Freuds displacement of character should make "Point Blank" into a neo-noir, so do I feel very uncomfortable with how a rethinking of the femme fatale character should make "Klute" a neo-noir.

The first film I would label neo-noir would be "Body Heat" from 81. The reason is that it is the first film to acknowledge what film noir was about and to take film noir as a field and transport it into contemporary setting. The funny thing is, that critics attacked the film exactly for that. Where they prior couldn't hail one or two isolated elements as neo-noir fast enough, once they had a complete transtextualisation of the genre, they dismissed it.

But "Body Heat" is a masterpiece. It is the perfect reflection upon film noir, and its narrative is cold and dead, lacking any emotions, on purpose, as Kasdan wanted to demonstrate the genre as if speaking a dead language.

But by now everything was noir. "Blade Runner" and "Terminator" was tech-noir, "Angel Heart" was horror-noir and "Frantic" and "Desperately Seeking Susan" were neo-noir. It had become a catch-phrase for critics who didn't know what to call a film. Could post-modernism be to blame?

There has been some very good films, which has taken full advantage of one or two elements of film noir. "Blue Velvet" is a masterpiece dealing with Freudian displacement of gender, with corruption, social duality and hypocracy and so forth, and is as such perhaps the only real true moderne film-noir. Another favorite of mine is "The Last Seduction" which is a beatiful examination of both femme fatale and gender displacement.

[Ashirg]

I wonder if I should pick it up when it's released or wait for some Lee Marvin boxset from Warner which might include it....

[Jeff]

I wonder if I should pick it up when it's released or wait for some Lee Marvin boxset from Warner which might include it....

Maybe. Warner certainly has enough top-notch Marvin to compile a box set, but I doubt they'll do it. The Big Red One and Bad Day at Black Rock are about to appear in other boxes. Anyway, as much as I love Marvin, he's more of a character actor, and doesn't have the same "classic star" cache as Davis, Crawford, Grant, or Hepburn & Tracy.

I'm not going to be able to resist picking Point Blank up right away. I do wish that Warner had gone after the rights to AMC's 55-minute documentary, Lee Marvin: A Personal Portrait by John Boorman. I can't think of a more fitting disc to house it.

[Andre Jurieu]

I do wish that Warner had gone after the rights to AMC's 55-minute documentary, Lee Marvin: A Personal Portrait by John Boorman. I can't think of a more fitting disc to house it.

Does anyone have the contact info for the Warner Bros' website? I've tried surfing it and all I can find is their customer service e-mail. If we could find the proper contact info, we could suggest the inclusion of the doc of the disc.

[Jeff]

Does anyone have the contact info for the Warner Bros' website? I've tried surfing it and all I can find is their customer service e-mail. If we could find the proper contact info, we could suggest the inclusion of the doc of the disc.

Well, we could certainly mention it tomorrow during the Warner chat at HTF. I have a feeling the production of the disc is too far along though. Besides, Warner seems reticent to shell out any cash for docs produced by third parties...especially Turner Classic Movies competitor AMC.