Wrapping up Noirvember with what just might be the best of all Noirs? Or, at least my favorite (of all the ones that I've seen). I'm not sure how many "great" Noirs followed up this one (and we're excluding anything that's ever been labeled as a "Neo-Noir") but this is the perfect capper to the genre. The one that took the basics of the form, expanded on them, and then literally blew it all up. There was no reason to go forward after this one. "Kiss Me Deadly" is a great noir but also a great cold war thriller. Whereas most Noirs tended to focus on a micro-story this one started that way until it's revealed that the fate of the world itself was dangling off the precipice. The stakes in these films have never been higher than they are here. While the genre certainly didn't begin here I think it's safe to say that this is where it finishes (or should have finished). Robert Aldritch, the director, has made some other pictures that I love ("The Dirty Dozen" being my own personal stand-out) but I'm not sure he's ever topped this one (someday, maybe I'll find out for sure).
The movie opens with a woman, at night, stumbling her way down an desolate road trying to flag down a car. The car that stops, and then starts our story, is one driven by Mike Hammer (Ralph Meeker -- just tremendous), Private Dick. You may know the name of Mike Hammer, a creation of author Mickey Spillane, from either the books or, more likely, the 80s cop show appropriately called "Mickey Spillane's Mike Hammer" and starring....Stacey Keach? I'm not sure it aired for very long. Also, never read the books. Anyone read the books? Not sure if this is based on one of the books or if they just used the rights to the character. Anyway, Hammer stopped and picked up the frantic woman. He implied (wait, not implied, outright said) that the only reason a woman would be out here alone is if she pissed off her man. Good ol' Hammer. The thing that struck me were the sounds she made as they drove through the black. He drove a convertible. The woman, still out of sorts, pants...and breathes, heavy. It's sexualized. Hammer's intrigued. He tried to pry some information from her, his car started to veer right, stopped at one of those middle-of-nowhere auto-shops to get it fixed, brush stuck in the axle from when he went off-road (he went a bit off-road to pick her up). With Hammer unaware, the woman (he finally learned her name -- Christina) handed a letter to the repairman, asked him to put a stamp on it, drop it in the mail (postage was not yet at a rate where that guy might feel put out). Back on the road, Christina asked Hammer to "remember me". Then an accident, not caused by them. Black out city. They're in a strange room. Hammer completely out of it. Strange men, we only see their feet. The scene was shot at feet level. A struggle, some screams, increasingly muffled. Christina's feet in the closet, three feet of empty space beneath them. They're placed back in the car, guided down a ravine. Christina's dead. Hammer woke up in a hospital bed, his doting assistant, Velda stood over him as he woke. What's going on here?
So, basically we got a pretty standard set-up for these types of pictures. Guy meets woman, woman disappears (or worse), guy looks for answers. It's always the guy, right? I guess some new Noirs might go on to reverse the genders here but I'm not really aware of any. Anyone aware of any? Anyway, after getting his car fixed by his preferred local guy (guy named Nick -- holy shit, what a performance by this guy named Nick who also happened to be played by a guy named Nick -- a caricature of a loving, doting, Hispanic car guy) he starts to dig deep into Christina's past. We got a former roommate (a miss Lilly Carver) who seems...well frightened, paranoid, a bit insane, etc. His search also leads him to the thugs that abducted them at the beginning of the story (one of them played by the great character actor, Jack Elam -- I also think his name was Jack). There's a great scene where Hammer searched them out at a beach house and, in a bit of a twist in these type of pictures, beats the ever loving shit out of Jack and his buddy after they attempted to jump him. Lots of scenes like that one (including another one involving a guy and his switchblade). Hammer's got a pal on the force, proves to be not much help beyond the usual "don't get in over your head here, you don't know what you're dealing with....also, Manhattan Project blah blah blah..." Ok, yeah, there's a box, a mysterious box, everyone wants that fucking box. Christina knew about the box. Got her killed. Where is it and who has the key? Wait till you find out.
So, I've battled all my life with how to label something a masterpiece. I've been guilty of overusing it, myself. I'm not sure one guy/gal is even allotted more than one of them in his/her lifetime. You get one masterpiece, maybe a few great ones, couple of duds, a stinker or two....maybe in your later period a couple unintentional self-parodies, etc. This one has gotta be Aldritch's masterpiece? I'm not sure I've earned the right to make that declaration, however. This thing just crackles from start to finish. The performances (including the first appearance by Cloris Leachman as Christina) are all dynamite. The thing that elevates this (over something like "Baby Jane" or even my own beloved "The Dirty Dozen") to the level of incredible (I've decided, no masterpiece label here, as of yet) is the apocalyptic ending. I didn't see that shit coming, even after the box started to glow a bit. Hell, the first time Hammer came into contact with it, I wondered if he was dragging ass a bit due to whatever was in the box, that fucking box. Ok, I'm sure you can make an educated guess, still did not see where this thing ended up. All the best filmmakers steal I'm told and I'd be fucking shocked if Spielberg wasn't thinking about the end of this picture when he had his Nazis open the Ark of the Covenant. Shit, anyway...check this one out.
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