A Kind of Murder

I wasn't that interested in this film in the first 10 minutes, then I realised that Patrick Wilson was acting quite well, the direction was good and the sets were totally authentic. The story whilst nothing new or exciting was solid enough, and by about half way there I was well into it. Who dunnit, why did they, are they gonna get caught, I was having a drink and thoroughly enjoying it until the end. Yeah the end just came, out of the blue, from nowhere. And not only that, but it left me wondering, what the heck happened then? Who did what and why? The biggest anti climax in a very long time. I gave it 4 stars but that really was for the great acting from Wilson and Marsan, and the excellent filming. It's lucky to get that tbh because of the way it abruptly came to an end.

Eddie Marsan is great, as always. Jessica Biel is miscast. Storyline is disjointed and far fetched. I would say this is 1958 or 1959 - not the 60's as stated in the synopsis. Patrick Wilson tries hard to make it all believable but it's not enough to carry the film.

I finished watching this and envisioned the cast and crew having a good laugh on all of the poor suckers who watched. I would have gave six stars, but the ending was ridiculous. It's a decent 60's style crime/drama mystery, complete with wardrobe, hairstyles, sets and cigarette smoking. The story and characters are entertaining. Things build up nicely, then comes the ending. It's like the writer couldn't come up with anything, so he just stops where he stops. No resolution and many things unanswered, on a movie where I would have expected something more. It's not a B horror flick. It's not trying to be artsy. Just a regular, half decent movie with a garbage ending. Or really, no ending at all.

I must admit I'm still not absolutely sure what happened in the end and I watched it twice. "A Kind of Murder" is a quirky little story; a bit like an episode on the old "Alfred Hitchcock Presents".

Patrick Wilson plays Walter Stackhouse, an architect and amateur writer who is becoming disenchanted with his neurotic wife, Clara (Jessica Biel). He becomes fixated on the case of Marty Kimmel (Eddie Marsan), a man who may have murdered his wife. When Walter's wife turns up dead, an apparent suicide, a detective, Lawrence Corby (Vincent Kartheiser), suspects it may be a copycat killing and pursues both men with the single-mindedness of Peter Falk's Columbo, but with none of his affability. Finally we seem to be left not really knowing if Walter did it or is simply guilty of an overactive imagination?

Patricia Highsmith's novels are tough ones to bring to life on the screen; they never end up as profound as you think they will. The films usually start with a clever idea, but run out of puff by the final curtain - The "Ripley" films and "The Two Faces of January" come to mind.

Good looking Patrick Wilson and Jessica Biel play against type creating unexpected characters, and this combined with Eddie Marsan's strange little bookshop owner and Vincent Kartheiser's unpleasant detective give the movie an odd edge; it's a hard one to love.

The film has a subtle score with a seductive lilt by Danny Bensi and Saunder Jurriaans, the go-to composers for the slightly off kilter ("Enemy" and "The Gift").

Credit also for the early 1960's setting. From the clothes, the cars and the interiors to scenes at bus terminals and train stations, it captures the look of the period and, if you were around at the time, brings back memories. It also gives the film a point of difference, especially as a film such as this has to compete with dozens of high quality, film length dramas and mini series that pour in through TV, cable and satellite.

However, it remains to be seen if "A Kind of Murder" with its fairly contrived scenario and rather annoying ending will stay in the memory.

A Kind of Murder, based on Patricia Highsmith's book The Blunderer, is a great looking set piece, a 1950's murder mystery, but it somehow feels kind of bland. The problem is lack of character development and an emphasis on style over substance. Stylistically, the film is beautiful, from the sets to the costumes to the great old cars. But Patrick Wilson, as the architect and part time mystery writer Walter Stackhouse, turns in a rather flat performance, so we don't really feel moved by his dilemma. Eddie Marsen, on the other hand, is suitably creepy as a seeming psychopath (did he actually kill his wife? No spoilers here). Jessica Biel, as Stackhouse's neurotic, suicidal wife Clara, is two dimensional. So are Haley Bennett as Wilson's illicit girlfriend and Vincent Kartheiser as the homicide detective on the case. Much of the dialogue is stilted and unrealistic. The mystery itself is intriguing enough (Hitchcock could have done wonders with this story), but the screenplay fails to make us care about the characters. Nevertheless, it keeps you watching, mainly because Highsmith was such a good writer. For a movie that is so focused on period, there is one major gaffe: In the nightclub scene, the drummer is playing a modern set of drums. I'm a musician, and I spotted it immediately. Director Andy Goddard should have been paying attention. An oversight like this suggests that he wasn't seriously vested in the film and was just collecting a paycheck. The film is not a disaster or even a failure; it's just not totally successful. Stream it for a mindless popcorn night.