A sangue freddo

The Coen brothers made a couple of films about crimes starting small and getting out of hand very quickly. Perhaps the best example is "Fargo" (1996).

"In cold blood" is different. From the very beginning two men are planning a cruel robbery and they intend to let no witnesses behind.

That the loot of all the violence amounts to a meager 43 dollars certainly gives a cynical touch to the story but the full amount of senselessness is expressed in the way the story is told. Using a technique from the horror genre which boils down to the principle that suggesting is often more effective than showing (see for example "Cat people", 1942, Jacques Tourneur), very little of the actual robbery is shown. Instead in the first half of the movie we see the criminals travelling to the place of the crime, doing perfectly normal things as drinking coffee in a diner but also bying a rope to tie down their victims. These scenes are alternated with images of the Clutter family (the victims) perfectly unaware of the danger that is (literally) approaching.

The black and white cinematography of Conrad Hall is breathtaking and the jazzy score of Quincy Jones is catching. And then the criminals have arrived at the Clutters home.

The headlights of the car go out.

The music stops.

And all we hear is the wind howling round the farm.

The second part of the film seems to be a plea against capital punishment. To be honest the first part of the film had made such an overwhelming impression on me that I was unabe to feel any compassion with the perpetrators. This is not to say that the second part of the movie does not have strong moments. Brilliant (and very well known) is the scene in which one of the perpetrators (Perry played by Robert Blake) is telling the story of his life. It looks as though he is crying, but in reality there are raindrops flowing on the window.

"In cold blood" is based on the non fiction novel of the same name by Truman Capote. The film manages to maintain some sort of documentary look and feel. This is done by filming on the location of the real Clutters farm but above all by not casting prominent stars in the lead roles.

Many films are derived from novels and, in the normal way, it is unhelpful to compare the movie with the book, for the obvious reason that they are distinct art-forms, constrained by different technical limitations. However, this one really does have to be understood in the context of the book which engendered it.

Capote's book is a factual account of a multiple murder in a small Kansas town. Two young drifters plan a robbery which misfires and ends in violence. The book traces the course of the patient investigation which eventually brings the killers to justice. Because the book is a species of journalism, uncompromisingly anchored in fact, the film cannot help but follow suit, with the added burden that it must faithfully represent on the screen real persons, places and events.

The mean lives of Dick Hickock and Perry Smith are documented in stark monochrome. Panavision is used to powerful effect to show the wide, flat spaces of Kansas. Quincy Jones's atmospheric jazz score adds salt to the bleak images. The austerity of blue collar life in the Mid West of the 1950's is splendidly evoked as our two delinquents move through a rolling montage of Travelodges and diners, launderettes and interstates.

This is a film of straight lines. The flat, relentless landscape of Kansas generates horizons that are ruler-straight. Roads stretch into the distance without the hint of a curve. Slat blinds cast harsh bars of light across room interiors. The penitentiary scene is a symphony of geometric lines. Hickock and Smith have had their characters forged by incarceration, and we see that their 'outside' lives are, in a real sense, another form of imprisonment. The lines which enclose them denote the hopelessness of their existence.

The starkness is reinforced by neat, economical editing. The throwing of a light switch in the Hickock farmhouse carries us to the Clutter home, where a light is being turned on, and the words 'any crowded street' whisk us into just such a street. A cigarette butt is discarded, and its ugly cylinder becomes an electromagnet searching for the murder weapon. The Clutters' cleaner realises that a radio has been stolen, and we see the radio playing at Dick's bedside.

Once under arrest, Dick makes a powerful speech about tattoos. The detectives are trying to provoke him by sneering at his 'body art' and he points out that we all carry tattoos of some kind. Our dress, speech and attitudes mark us indelibly and fix us in our time and place.

Herb Clutter and his family lead a spartan home life. The farmhouse is spare and unadorned, but its order and solidity make a sharp contrast with the chaos and squalor of the rented rooms where Dick and Perry hole up. Dick 'hangs paper' (passes dud cheques) in respectable Kansas stores, amassing clothes and electrical goods on a spree which exploits the trust between vendor and consumer and uses it as a weapon - Dick and Perry's revenge upon 'decent' America.

Once the arrests have been made and a trial scheduled, the film switches to a voice-over narration. No doubt this was done in order to shorten the custody passage (this is extensive in the book, but does not lend itself readily to film treatment), but it jars. Up to this point, Hickock and Smith have told their story through action. Narration is second-best.

However, the film is a highly-reliable rendition of the book, and contains some impressive touches. Mail bags come somersaulting from the hurtling express-train like so much tumbleweed. The rapid crossfire of the detectives' press conference conveys a lot of important information to the viewer in an economical way. A detective talks us through a psychological profile of the as yet unknown killers, and it is very persuasive. While our two heroes are lying low in Mexico, a beautiful mariachi song accompanies a bedroom scene, the music evoking a sense of loss and regret, and leading naturally to Perry's flashback memories of his mother's degradation.

To ask if the film is as good as the book is meaningless, but it is certainly a highly-commendable reworking of the book in visual terms. The interplay between the two delinquents is first-class, the easy charm of Dick giving way at critical moments to naked fear of the inscrutable dreamer Perry.

In the year 2006, "In Cold Blood"-a riveting thriller from 1967-has two new interesting contexts that it did not previous have. First, and most chillingly, is the fact that it's star, Robert Blake, was recently on trial for murdering his wife. Second, the recent Oscar winning biopic, "Capote" showed the muddled back story of this haunting true crime tale's author, Truman Capote. These two new twists make the film timely for a modern audience.

As a stand alone film from it's era, "In Cold Blood" is top notch in every way. Most notable is the stunning black and white cinematography from Conrad Hall (later of "American Beauty" and "Road to Perdition" fame). Many of the stills from this film of the Kansas farm house at night or the tree-lined back country roads could be sold as fine art photography. Combined with the cracker-jack direction from Brooks and superb editing in the early scenes (where we see the mundane daily life of the innocent family about to be senselessly slaughtered beautifully intertwined with the plotting of the two hapless killers), a rich brooding atmosphere is created that sets the stage for riveting suspense (even when everyone knows how this is all going to end due to the fact its all based on real life events). It's also great to see in this day and age how brilliantly staged a harrowing murder scene can be depicted where the graphic nature of the act is transmitted to the viewer subliminally with nary a drop of blood shown on screen.

The film is also anchored nicely by Robert Blake's eerie performance as the more sympathetic yet senselessly brutal side of the killing duo. The flashback scenes to his horrible childhood are extremely well done. Then there is the scene towards the end of the film where he is speaking to the reverend before being sent to the gallows and he makes his last "confession" so to speak. It's one of those classic movie moments that is a perfect marriage of gritty acting, superb writing, flawless direction, and haunting photography. I dare you to erase from your mind the stark image of the rain's reflection from the window flowing down Robert Blake's pallid face in lieu of actual tears.

The only thing hampering "In Cold Blood" is the slow moving middle act where the killers are on the lam and the forced nature of the social commentary at the end. The tacked-on political message about the death penalty is secondary to its compelling depiction of the mad killers and their prey.

Although it was released way back in 1967, IN COLD BLOOD still remains the benchmark by which all true-crime films are matched. Veteran writer/director Richard Brooks (ELMER GANTRY) adapted Truman Capote's non-fiction book into a chilling docudrama that retains a disturbing power even today, thirty-five years later.

Robert Blake and Scott Wilson portray Perry Smith and Dick Hickock, two ex-cons who, on a tip from Hicock's old cellmate Floyd Wells, broke into the Holcomb, Kansas home of Herbert Clutter, looking for a wall safe supposedly containing $10,000. But no safe was ever found, and the two men instead wound up killing Mr. Clutter, his wife, and their two children, getting away with only a radio, a pair of binoculars, and a lousy forty dollars. Two months on the run, including an aimless "vacation" in northern Mexico, ended in Las Vegas when cops caught them in a stolen car. But it eventually comes out, after merciless grilling by Kansas law enforcement officials, that these two men committed that heinous crime in Holcomb. Tried and convicted on four counts of murder, they stew in jail over a five-year period of appeals and denials until both are hanged to death on April 14, 1965.

Blake and Smith are absolutely chilling as the two dispassionate killers who show no remorse for what they've done but are concerned about getting caught. John Forsythe also does a good turn as Alvin Dewey, the chief detective investigating the crime, as does Gerald S. O'Laughlin as his assistant. In a tactic that is both faithful to Capote's book and a good artistic gambit all around, Brooks does not show the murders at the beginning; instead, he shows the two killers pulling up to the Clutter house as the last light goes out, then cuts to the next morning and the horrifying discovery of the bodies. Only during the ride back to Kansas, when Blake is questioned by Forsythe and narrates the story, do we see the true horror of what happened that night. We don't see that much blood being spilled in these scenes, but we don't need to. The shotgun blasts and the horrified look on the Clutters' faces as they know they are about to die are more than disturbing enough, so there is no need to resort to explicitly bloody slasher-film violence.

Brooks wisely filmed IN COLD BLOOD in stark black-and-white, and the results are excellent thanks to Conrad Hall's expertise. The chilling jazz score by Quincy Jones is the capper. The end result is one of the most unsettling films of any kind ever made, devastating in its own low-key fashion. It is a 134-minute study of a crime that shook an entire state and indeed an entire nation, and should be seen, though viewer discretion is advised; the 'R' rating is there for a reason.

Truman Capote allegedly read a brief article in the New York Times describing the killing of the Clutter family in Kansas and shortly afterward visited the scene of the crime with author Harper Lee (who eventually lived off considerable royalties from "To Kill a Mockingbird".) I remember reading "In Cold Blood" in my teen years when I was considering working for the FBI as a field agent. Then and now I have always been fascinated by crimes that allegedly defy explanation: "senseless killings". But what enraptured me was Capote's considerable gifts as a writer and story teller. His work as both a short story writer and novelist has consistently been underrated and under appreciated. Two years after the publication of Capote's book, Richard Brooks (who had adapted and directed the film version of Tennessee Williams' "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof" and had also collaborated with John Huston on the screenplay of "Key Largo") brought Capote's "In Cold Blood" to stark life in the movie theaters. While I am always somewhat hesitant to see my favorite novels and plays transferred to film (since they invariably lack the power and verve of the original), I had always wanted to see "In Cold Blood", but it is a film rarely shown on television. It is a powerful film, rightly shot in black and white and often evoking the "film noir" feel of the 40's and 50's. Robert Blake steals the film, as he should in this role, as the moody and tortured Perry. We see his life unfold both linearly and through a series of flashbacks, developing an understanding of how a sociopath's life might be formed. He is accompanied on this haphazard and fruitless journey by Dick, played brilliantly by Scott Wilson (who had just previous to this film played the murder suspect in "In the Heat of the Night" with Poitier and Steiger). But, of course, as with any great film, this movie is replete with supporting actors who are consistently strong throughout the picture. Charles McGraw, who plays Perry's father, almost steals the picture with his seven-minute scene as he lapses into a reverie of Perry's drunken sex-crazed mother and his love and supposed devotion to his young son. Another notable from the supporting cast is Gerald O'Loughlin as one of the detectives in hot pursuit of the suspects. One of the true highlights of the picture is the underlying musical score composed by the brilliant Quincy Jones, who had already scored several films prior to this one, but it was certainly 1967 which put Jones on Hollywood's musical map for back-to-back tour de force scoring of "In the Heat of the Night" and "In Cold Blood". Some may find that the voice-over narration toward the conclusion of the film verges on the heavy-handed in the implication of the fruitlessness of capital punishment, but Gallup polls of the mid-sixties reveal that 82% of Americans were not in favor of the death penalty, so, for the Zeitgeist of the era, the commentary fits well. For anyone who appreciates film noir, first-rate cinematography, quality musical scoring, and superb acting, "In Cold Blood" is a must-see film.