Point Blank (1967)

Director: John Boorman

Writers: Alexander Jacobs; David Newhouse; Rafe Newhouse

Based on The Hunter by Richard Stark

Actors: Lee Marvin; Angie Dickinson; John Vernon; Keenan Wynn; Carrol O’Connor

Cinematography: Philip H. Lathrop

Music: Johnny Mandel

Running Time: 92 mins.

Neo-noir begins in L.A.

        Something happened in 1967 that changed the way we view movies and altered our idea of what film was capable of. It was a turning point year in Hollywood that brought in a cinematic golden age of innovation unequaled since the 1930s. A new generation of filmmakers appeared on the scene who were free agents, independent of the old studio system, and free to turn their individualistic style of storytelling into reality. Directors like Arthur Penn (Bonnie and Clyde), Mike Nichols (The Graduate), and John Boorman (Point Blank) pushed the envelope that year, breaking new ground and creating examples that filmmakers have followed ever since.

           John Boorman’s Point Blank is a neo-noir--- a film noir produced after the classic period (1940 to1960), but maintaining the basic elements of the classics (e.g Double Indemnity 1944): psychological crime story, involving a fated protagonist, and told in a distinct expressionistic style that underlined the dark theme of the material. It is, in fact, the first neo-noir (in my opinion), for it set the pattern and look for most of the neo-noirs that were to follow.

             Point Blank is an offbeat story of revenge set in both San Francisco and Los Angeles (mostly in L.A.). It’s violent, unpredictable, and revolutionary. Walker (no first name), the principal character, played by Lee Marvin, is shot and apparently killed in the first ten minutes of the film after a robbery scam on Alcatraz Island in San Francisco Bay. But he then turns up again a year later bent on obtaining the $93,000 owed him, and determined to wreak revenge on Mal Reese (John Vernon), the man who shot him, cheated him out of his cut, and ran off with his wife.

              The scene soon shifts to Los Angeles where Walker tracks down his wayward wife Lynn (Sharon Acker), and eventually Reese through the help of his wife’s sister Chris (Angie Dickinson). What follows is one frantic pursuit across L.A. from Santa Monica Beach to the L.A. River channel just south of downtown. This mad pursuit results in the suicide of his wife, Reese’s accidental death from a fall off his penthouse balcony, and the death of two of the syndicate heads who set up the original Alcatraz job. But oddly none of these deaths is caused by Walker directly. The movie ends where it begins on Alcatraz with Walker disappearing into the shadows of the deserted prison, never collecting his $93,000 cut.

              As in Kiss Me Deadly (1955) twelve years earlier, there’s an air of unreality in this movie that causes viewers to doubt what they’re seeing and hearing. Is it all a dream, is Walker a ghost, or is the entire film the fantasy of a dying man? Boorman leaves it up to the audience to decide.

              Like the Italian Antonioni, Boorman, an Englishman, was not fond of L.A. For him it signaled everything that was wrong with modern American society--- it was stark, over-sized, impersonal, alienating, and materialistic--- a perfect place for a vengeance- determined lone gun to operate freely. To emphasize this he chose location sites like the  empty antiseptic corridor of the L.A. Airport terminal for Walker’s arrival, the L.A. River channel between the Fourth and Sixth Street Bridges--- a huge ditch encased in concrete and lined with chain-link fences--- for a double assassination scene; the exterior of a sterile-looking glass and steel Wilshire Boulevard office building for Walker to prowl around in while doing his stalking; a super-sized Culver City car lot to highlight the materialistic superficiality of 1960’s America; and the grimy and deserted underbelly of the Santa Monica Freeway for a hair-raising white-knuckle demolition car ride. Even the more attractive locations like the Hollywood Hills home of Brewster (Carroll O’Connor), one of the syndicate heads, and the Huntley House Hotel in Santa Monica with its then futuristic outdoor elevator (still there, by the way) give the feeling of artificiality and vulgar wealth.

                What Boorman did with this movie to set the style for future neo-noirs is what makes Point Blank exceptional (other than Lee Marvin’s stunning performance). In the classic black and white noir movies of the past shades of lighting and use of shadows were used to set the mood of the story. This was no longer effective, or needed, in color movies. Boorman used color schemes to send the same messages. Different colors are highlighted in several key scenes: green in the syndicate office, orange at the Hollywood Hills house, white and blue in the car lot, and bright yellows and reds for Angie Dickinson’s dresses. It is definitely a beautiful movie to look at.

                In the classic noirs odd camera angles and distorted images were used to disorient the audience and create a feeling of unreality. Boorman uses a postmodern narrative style that jumps back and forth from past to present and seemingly out of place scenes like a bizarre nightclub episode with a screaming James Brown-like singer, a guileless clientele, and a semi-psychedelic fight scene for the same effect. These innovative techniques would become standard in the neo-noirs of Soderbergh, Mann, Lynch, and the others who have come since.

                  Point Blank was another film that was not well received by audiences in 1967, but has since become a cult classic, considered one of the “top films of the decade.” It has a 97% fresh rating on Rotten Tomatoes.