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As far as human urges go, killing ranks pretty high up, right? Who hasn’t had a fantasy where they beat in a co-worker’s head or shot Regis Philbin in the eye? Killing is, for most of us middle-class folks, a fantasy. Yet it happens every day. Everday, someone dies in violent consequences and their demise is relegated to the depths of the obituaries section. Often, the killers are found, and in most cases, their story is also relegated to the annals. In 1966, after six years of research, Truman Capote published In Cold Blood, a nonfiction book about a murder having taken place in Kansas years earlier. In 1967, the film was released.

Perry Smith (Robert Blake) and Dick Hickock (Scott Wilson, who bore a striking resemblance to Edward Norton) are two ex-cons, recently out of prison and reunited. They hook up to make a few bucks and go down to Mexico where Perry wants to search for treasure. They head across the United States, finally deciding to rob a Kansas faming family. The first part of the plan goes off without a hitch but the family’s money is becoming increasingly hard to find, and the criminals are growing increasingly nervous.

Told in semi-documentary fashion, In Cold Blood is an unblinking look at the hard-to-portray world of murder, and more importantly, the people behind these murders. Too often, films will paint the killers as increasingly evil or mentally stunted. Not the case here. The film paints the characters as they truly are; naïve, sheltered, once-promising and cold-blooded. We get a feeling about halfway through the film that becomes impossible to shake off as it goes along; we realize that they don’t know what they’re doing, that they have no idea what their actions will do. In one particularly memorable scene, Perry stares out the window as light reflects in his face, shadows dancing on his skin, making it look like Perry is crying. But he isn’t; he seems to be unaware of what he’s done, only temporarily regretting being in jail.

There are a few references to The Treasure of The Sierra Madre, which was Blake’s debut film (he played the little boy who sold lotto tickets). Thematically, the films are similar. Both have dirt-poor male characters who strive for fortune and eventually fall victim to their own greed. Whilst I consider TSM to be the superior film, In Cold Blood is certainly not to be taken lightly.

This is one of the films that helped shape late 60’s cinema, one of the films that pushed the boundaries of what they showed in film. It also shows a distinctly different directing style, one that feels much more current than it actually is. The film seems to be halfway between a lesser Hitchcock film and a Soderbergh film, using most of the tricks in the book but in a very conservative manner. The crisp black-and-white photography is often cited as one of the best of its kind and I’d be hard-pressed to disagree. The cinematography lends to the gritty, documentary-style presentation.

Richard Brooks insisted to work away from Hollywood because they were trying to cast big stars (I’ve heard Paul Newman). Brooks went instead with two relative unknowns, both of which became minor celebrities. Robert Blake (recently shoved into the spotlight after his wife was murdered) is startling as Perry. He fits in perfectly with the puggish, unfeeling character with his piercing eyes that seem to be telling another story. Scott Wilson is also excellent as the nervous, quasi-psychotic Dick. He is in theory the other half of the Perry character; it is said that alone they would not kill. Wilson and Blake are coldly believeable, and at times you feel like you’re watching some type of snuff film taken by killers on a rampage. This is the type of film Natural Born Killers should have been.

But for all this great praise, there are a few things wrong with In Cold Blood. The second act of the film is slow and unremittingly boring; odd because it keeps the same beat as the rest of the movie. After a nice opening act which gives us insight on the characters, there just seems to be all this dead time where what happens onscreen is completely unimportant. It might also be because the film runs a good two hours and fifteen minutes-and feels like it. I’ve said it before, I don’t hate long movies. Hell, this one isn’t really all that long to begin with. But to me it seems like a waste of time (for the filmmakers and for me) to pad out the movie with scenes that don’t really fit in.

Aside from the two leads, the cast’s performances can best be described as unspectacular. The film takes pride in the fact that it casts some actual players in the crime (the executioner at the end of the film is the same one who executed the real Hickock and Smith) in the film, but the supporting performers (including veteran character actor Will Geer) are bland and unmemorable.

In Cold Blood is chilling, well-made and thought-provoking, but despite all this, it doesn’t quite live up to its reputation. I say, if you’re smart enough to have heard of this movie, then you’re smart enough to appreciate it for what it is: imperfect, but still a wallop of a film.

Not exactly a fun ride through the park, but worth it.

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originally posted: 12/16/01 08:45:59
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