Gumshoe Confidential: Would-Be White Knights, Reluctant Heroes and Rotten Apples, Otherwise Known as Private Detectives, Walked the Mean Streets of a Noir Hellscape

Humphrey Bogart, Peter Lorre, Mary Astor,
Sydney Greenstreet, “The Maltese Falcon” (1941).

By Paul Parcellin

Private eyes, those lone rangers who traverse bleak urban landscapes, are romanticized in books, radio dramas and movies as upholders of right and wrong. They do the dirty work that the cops can’t or won’t touch. Often hired by those who are monied, corrupt, or both, they’re the go-to guys when it comes to cleaning up messes that the well heeled and their offspring leave in their wakes. 

But reality clashes with the fictional representation of the private eye. 

Some shamuses may be straight arrows, but few are Boy Scouts. In the 1930s-’40s, private detectives were apt to earn their bread and butter by spying on adulterers and snapping steamy photos that would turn up in divorce proceedings. Others were thugs for hire who busted heads to break up strikers’ picket lines — company men had no use for organized labor, you see.

Both crime fiction and movies of the 1940s paint a morally ambiguous but mostly favorable picture of the private sleuth. They are renegades, loners and upholders of justice in a world where, to quote crime novelist Jim Thompson, “Nothing is what it seems.” 

They’re often weather-beaten men with shabby offices and thin bank accounts. The honest ones mostly live in cramped walk-ups. A couple have a penthouse and a country club membership, but it’s a cinch that dirty money pays for their luxuries. 

Here’s the rundown on some noir private detectives — my favorites, not an exhaustive list, mind you — who work for the greater good, and a couple who never heard of the word “ethics”:

Many actors have played Philip Marlowe in adaptations of Raymond Chandler’s novels, but let’s stick with the two most prominent ones from the classic noir period, about 1940 to 1959.

In describing Marlowe and his world, Chandler notes that “down these mean streets a man must go who is not himself mean, who is neither tarnished nor afraid. He is the hero; he is everything.” 

Lauren Bacall, Humphrey Bogart, “The Big Sleep.”

“The Big Sleep” (1946)

First-time viewers may find the film's labyrinthine plot challenging. No matter. We're immersed in Philip Marlowe's world and wherever he goes we gladly follow. Then, there's the Bogart-Bacall chemistry — always a treat to behold.

Humphrey Bogart gives Marlowe a streetwise, working class persona. He went to college and worked in the district attorney’s office, parting ways due to his tendency toward insubordination and a dislike of red tape. He’s not above skirting the edge of the law when the situation calls for it, but strongly believes in an incorruptible code of ethics.

Dick Powell, Claire Trevor, "Murder, My Sweet."

“Murder, My Sweet” (1944)

This adaptation of Chandler’s “Farewell, My Lovely” was retitled to avoid confusion. Dick Powell, who stars as Marlowe, was best known for musicals, and audiences might have thought it a romance or light comedy. Far be it from the truth. Marlowe is hired by ex-con Moose Malloy who is obsessed with finding his former girlfriend, Velma. Be careful what you wish for, Moose.

Powell plays Philip Marlowe with the air of a sophisticated wise guy who harbors an extreme reluctance to toe the line. He’s an outsider who doesn’t suffer fools and can’t bring himself to play ball with the big guys. The actor's background as a song and dance man shows through when on a whim he playfully skips across a kid’s chock-drawn hopscotch outline on the pavement — a move we could never picture Bogart making.

Jack Nicholson, "Chinatown."

“Chinatown” (1974) 

In 1930s Los Angeles, murder and corruption tarnish the city's pastel vistas. He who controls the water supply is king, and private eye Jake Gittes (Jack Nicholson) stumbles upon a scheme to grab land, money and natural resources from humble farmers.

Jake Gittes wants respect. He’s got a fancy wardrobe, — he’s dapper and vain — a swell office with a staff at his beck and call. But he ain’t respectable. Like the guy in the barber shop says, “You’ve got a hell of a way of making a living.” Jake sees the water scheme as a means to redeem his reputation. He’s a sleazy but successful detective who specializes in catching adulterers en flagrant. He wants to be the white knight who rescues a damsel in distress (Faye Dunaway), perhaps making up for another woman in his past whom he tried to help but ended up hurting. Add to that, he means to save the humble working people of Los Angeles from the clutches of evil men who would steal their land and their water rights. He overreaches and it gets him in trouble.

Jane Greer, Robert Mitchum, "Out of the Past."

“Out of the Past” (1947) 

We're doomed to repeat our mistakes, especially if Jane Greer is involved. In "Out of the Past,” gas station owner Jeff Bailey (Robert Mitchum) thinks he left his days of shady dealings behind. But gambler Whit Sterling (Kirk Douglas) thinks otherwise.

Jeff Bailey used to ply his trade as a shamus in New York, then dropped out of sight. By chance his past comes back to haunt him. He’s unlike real private detectives of that era. He doesn’t peep through open transoms or photograph adulterous couples in the heat of passion. He couldn’t abide by his employer, gambler Whit Sterling, but his weakness for the dangerous Kathie Moffat (Greer) proves to be more than he can resist. He wants to disappear, but he’s smitten with Kathie and will go down with the ship if he must. As the reluctant private eye forced out of retirement he’s about to be framed for murder. His respectable life in a small town is about to go up in flames. Yet he tells the scheming Kathie, “Baby, I don’t care.” 

Ward Bond, Humphrey Bogart, Barton MacLane,
"The Maltese Falcon."

“The Maltese Falcon” (1941)

A motley gaggle of thieves and cutthroats enlist private investigator Sam Spade (Humphrey Bogart) to help locate a missing jewel encrusted statue, the "dingus," as Spade calls it. The search is an exercise in futility. The film itself? Exhilarating.

Sam Spade wants to protect the code of honor among private eyes everywhere. He needs to avenge his detective partner Miles Archer’s death even though he didn’t like him much. He messed around with Miles’s wife once — loyalty has its limits. Much of Dashiell Hammett’s book, on which the film is based, is taken nearly verbatim in the movie. But Bogart’s Samuel Spade isn’t as callous and ruthless as the one in the book. Spade is smooth and can pretend to be corrupt when it helps him take down the bad guys, all of whom want to hire him to do their bidding. But he’s a straight arrow who protects his clients, even when he doesn’t follow in their criminal ways.

Nick Dennis, Ralph Meeker, “Kiss Me Deadly.”

“Kiss Me Deadly” (1955)

P.I. Mike Hammer (Ralph Meeker) roams Los Angeles with a suitcase full of hell fire. Mickey Spillane's blood and guts opus, transported from the grimy streets of New York to L.A., sees the city teetering on the brink of nuclear armageddon. And Hammer means to stop it.

Mike Hammer is the kind of private eye who doesn’t mind twisting an arm when vital information is being withheld. He’s sleeker and better looking than others in his field. He’s got a swank apartment, drives a Corvette and lives the lifestyle of James Bond. A crew of marauding gangsters is after a suitcase full of hot nuclear soup and Hammer finds himself in the middle of a mad scramble for the deadly stuff. It’s a detective story for a world living in the shadow of the H-bomb. The film received the condemnation of the U.S. Senate’s Kefauver Commission, which accused it of being "designed to ruin young viewers.” 

Sounds like an endorsement to me. 

More Than a Gunsel: Elisha Cook Jr. Played Wobbly Tough Guys, Inept Would-Be Heroes and Dyed in the Wool Victims Often Displaying Raw Emotion and Unexpected Vulnerabilities

Humphrey Bogart, Elisha Cook Jr., "The Maltese Falcon" (1941).
Just a cheap gunman hanging around hotel lobbies.

When he died in 1995 at the age of 91, Elisha Cook Jr. was the last surviving cast member of John Huston's 1941 film noir classic “The Maltese Falcon,” whose players included Humphrey Bogart, Sydney Greenstreet, Peter Lorre and Mary Astor. While his was a supporting role, Cook left an indelible impression that remains intact more than eight decades later.

Many say that “The Maltese Falcon” was the first ever film noir while others insist that “Stranger on the Third Floor” (1940) was the genre’s opening salvo. One thing is for certain: Having acted in both films, Cook’s film noir street cred is rock solid.

He appeared in more than 100 films, including comedies, westerns and war pictures, working with some of Hollywood’s most esteemed directors, a virtual who’s who of Hollywood heavy hitters, including Stanley Kubrick, Howard Hawks, Robert Wise, Sam Peckinpah, Andre DeToth, Mervyn LeRoy, Otto Preminger, Robert Siodmak, and Jules Dassin, among others. Cook would be the first to admit that not every film in which he appeared rose to the level of the 1941 Huston-directed spellbinder. He once claimed that he was in more "B-for-bomb turkeys" than any other actor.

Frequently performing beside the likes of Bogart, Greenstreet, Gary Cooper, Allan Ladd and Marilyn Monroe, to name a few, Cook had an emotional presence that put him on equal footing with the stars even in his relatively minor roles. Whether he was playing a sniveling informant, sinister henchman or a flawed protagonist, his most complex characters put on a rugged facade that belied a spate of vulnerabilities that occasionally bobbed to the surface. At times his characters were lovestruck weaklings easily manipulated by scheming jezebels. He often played average joes who were pawns of the ruthless and were pushed around by low-life hoodlums and gangsters’ errand boys. He was Jonesy, the broken-hearted informant forced to drink poison in "The Big Sleep" (1946). As Cliff, the cuckolded husband who throws a monkey wrench into a racetrack holdup in Stanley Kubrick’s "The Killing" (1956), he drowns in pathos and inadvertently helps take his partners in crime down with him.

But the role most deeply etched into our pop culture collective consciousness is undoubtedly Wilmer the gunsel, the inept, brutally callous and cowardly bodyguard to Sydney Greenstreet in "The Maltese Falcon.” Part of what makes that film pure viewing pleasure is its cheeky dialogue and biting repartee lifted directly from Dashiell Hammett’s novel. Amid many ironic asides and withering retorts, Cook scores a zinger or two. 

”Keep on riding me," he tells Bogart’s Sam Spade. "They're gonna be pickin' iron out of your liver."

As Wilmer — humiliation and tears of rage.

But apart from some poisonous retorts, his characters’ emotional complexities leave a lasting impression on us. We see humiliation and hatefulness in his expression after Bogie swipes both of his pistols and mortifies him as his boss, Kaspar Gutman (Greenstreet), looks on with muted amusement.

"If you look at the scene closely," Cook said, "the tears are streaming down my face I'm so angry."

With more than a touch of self-deprecating humor, Cook liked to point out that he got the part of Wilmer simply because he had the same agent as Huston and Bogart. But it’s hard to imagine any other actor standing in Wilmer’s shoes.

"I played rats, pimps, informers, hopheads and communists," he said, although that wasn’t necessarily by choice. He had to take whatever happened to be on the studio’s schedule. "I didn't have the privilege of reading scripts. Guys called me up and said, 'You're going to work tomorrow.' "

A Career Spanning Over Six Decades

A native of San Francisco who grew up in Chicago, Cook was a traveling actor in the East and Midwest before going to New York, where Eugene O'Neill picked him to play the juvenile lead in "Ah Wilderness!," which ran on Broadway for two years.

His first screen roles were in the silent era — he made his film debut with “Her Unborn Child” (1930). The early roles were often uncredited, but he showed a knack for performing in front of the camera. By the time that the talkies arrived his career began picking up steam. 

He could handle a remarkable range of characters, from timid and neurotic to sinister and cunning. As a performer who could radiate vulnerability as well as menace he became a sought after character actor. He continued to make his mark in films-noir and gangster films with roles in “Born to Kill” (1947), “Dillinger” (1945) and “Phantom Lady” (1944). 

In “Phantom Lady,” Cook is a hophead jazz drummer who becomes the prime suspect in a murder case. He encounters Carol "Kansas" Richman (Ella Raines) and is knocked out by her slinky allure. In one of the most frequently cited scenes in noir, Cook pounds out a frenzied drum-solo with erotic overtones as Kansas looks on.

Cook as George Peatty — bamboozled by his wandering wife.

His work in noir extended into the 1950s with roles in such films as “Don’t Bother to Knock”  (1952), playing Eddie Forbes, whose attempt to help his unemployed niece, Nell (Marilyn Monroe), brings about disastrous results, and George Peatty, a hapless cashier involved in a racetrack heist in Stanley Kubrick’s “The Killing.” Peatty’s loveless marriage ends up being his undoing and his fate is sealed in a tragic twist.

Other notable performances include that of Watson Pritchard in William Castle's horror film “House on Haunted Hill” (1959).

In the 1960s and 1970s he appeared in a wide range of television shows, including “The Twilight Zone,” “Perry Mason.,” “I Spy,” “The Man From U.N.C.L.E.” “The Wild Wild West” and “Gunsmoke.” He also played a recurring role on “Magnum, P.I.” in the 1980s.

His late career work includes such high profile films as “Rosemary's Baby” (1968), “Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid” (1973) and “The Outfit” (1973). 

Cook, never one to mix in Hollywood’s social circles, resided for many years in Bishop, Calif., and often summered at Lake Sabrina in the Sierra Nevada. He died of a stroke in 1995 at a nursing home in Big Pine, Calif. 

Here’s a list of some of Elisha Cook Jr. most memorable crime film performances and the characters he played:

“The Devil is Driving” (1932) Tony Stevens

Scion of a wealthy businessman is charged with drunken-driving and causing an accident that kills a woman and cripples her child. A low-budget cautionary tale.

“They Won’t Forget” (1937) Joe Turner

A small-time hood is suspected of murder. Political ambition and tensions between the North and the South lurk in the background This is one of Cook’s earliest crime film roles.

“Stranger on the Third Floor” (1940) Joe Briggs

An aspiring reporter is the key witness at the murder trial of a young man accused of cutting a café owner's throat and is soon accused of a similar crime himself.

“The Maltese Falcon” (1941) Wilmer Cook

San Francisco private detective Sam Spade takes on a case that involves him with three eccentric criminals, a gorgeous liar and their quest for a priceless statuette.

“I Wake Up Screaming” (1941) Harry Williams

Inspector Ed Cornell tries to railroad Frankie Christopher into a murder rap for the killing of model Vicky Lynn. 

Keeping the tempo, in "Phantom Lady" (1944).

“Phantom Lady” (1944) Cliff Milburn

A devoted secretary risks her life to try to find the elusive woman who may prove her boss didn't murder his selfish wife.

“Dillinger” (1944) Kirk Otto

John Dillinger begins his life of crime as a petty thief and meets his future gang in prison, eventually masterminding a series of daring robberies.

“Blonde Alibi” (1946) Sam Collins

Soon after a young woman breaks off her engagement to a doctor, the doctor is found murdered. Suspicion falls on his ex-fiancé and a pilot with a checkered past.

“The Falcon’s Alibi” (1946) Nick

A wealthy woman's secretary, fearing that she will be blamed if her employer's jewelry is stolen, hires the Falcon as guardian. The Falcon is blamed when the jewels are stolen and murders ensue.

“Two Smart People” (1946) Fly Feletti

A fugitive negotiates a five-year sentence for the theft of a half-million dollar worth of bonds while suspecting that a con-woman, a cop and a former crime-partner are after his hidden bonds.

“The Big Sleep” (1946) Harry Jones

Private detective Philip Marlowe is hired by a wealthy family. Before the complex case is over, he's seen murder, blackmail and what might be love.

“Fall Guy” (1947) Joe

Tom Cochrane (Leo Penn'), full of cocaine and covered with blood, is picked up by the police. Soon, he’s a prime suspect for murder.

“Born to Kill” (1947) Marty

Marty Waterman (Cook), a henchman of the murderous Sam Wilde (Lawrence Tierney), finds out the hard way that it’s risky doing business with a hot-tempered paranoid such as Sam.

“The Long Night” (1947) Frank Dunlap

Police surround the apartment of apparent murderer Joe Adams, who refuses to surrender although escape appears impossible. During the siege, Joe reflects on the circumstances that led him to this situation.

“The Gangster” (1947) Oval

Cynical gangster Shubunka (Barry Sullivan) controls the Neptune Beach waterfront. He runs a numbers racket with the local soda shop owner. The police are in his pocket and the local hoods are on his payroll.

“Flaxy Martin” (1949) Roper

Mob attorney Walter Colby is manipulated by showgirl Flaxy Martin into taking the rap for a murder committed by mobster Hap Richie's goons, but he escapes and is out for revenge.

“Don’t Bother to Knock” (1952) Eddie Forbes

A married couple staying at a swank hotel need a babysitter for their young daughter while they attend a function. Elevator operator Eddie Forbes recommends his niece, Nell (Marilyn Monroe), for the job — big mistake.

“I, the Jury” (1953) Bobo

Detective Mike Hammer is determined to catch and kill the person who killed his close friend, and the clues lead to a beautiful, seductive woman.

“Trial” (1955) Finn

A courtroom drama set in 1947 deals with post-World War II problems facing the United States such as stormy race relations and the growing threat of communism.

“The Killing” (1956) George Peatty

Career criminal Johnny Clay (Sterling Hayden) assembles a five-man team to plan and execute a daring racetrack robbery.

“Accused of Murder” (1956) Whitey Pollock

Nightclub singer Ilona Vance (Vera Ralston) is accused of murder and Lt. Roy Hargis (David Brian) attempts to prove her innocence.

“Chicago Confidential” (1957) Candymouth Duggan

In Chicago, a crime syndicate tries to take over a labor union by killing its whistle blower treasurer and framing the honest union boss for the murder.

“Plunder Road” (1957) Skeets Jonas 

Five men rob a train in Utah of 10 million dollars in gold and head to Los Angeles in three trucks hoping to meet up with their beautiful accomplice and leave the country.

“Baby Face Nelson” (1957) Homer van Meter

George "Babyface" Nelson (Mickey Rooney) became one of the most important gangsters of 1930s Chicago. To compete with Al Capone, he allies himself with John Dillinger.

“The Outfit” (1973) Carl

Earl Macklin (Robert Duvall) robs a bank owned by the mob, serves his prison time and is released, only to start a private war against the crime outfit that owned the bank.

“Hammett” (1982) Eli the Taxi Driver

A fictional account of real-life mystery writer Dashiell Hammett and his involvement in the investigation of a beautiful Chinese cabaret actress's mysterious disappearance in San Francisco.

Knockout Punch Noir: The Runyonesque, Raw-Boned World of Prizefighting Inspires Tales of Corruption, Violence and Redemption

Humphrey Bogart, “The Harder They Fall” (1956). 

By Paul Parcellin

This post contains spoilers, so you may want to see the films before reading the article.

You’d be hard pressed to find a sport more noir-like than professional boxing. It’s got all of the elements of noir rolled into a savage athletic competition whose object is to knock an opponent unconscious and perhaps spill his blood.

Boxing brings with it the stench of mobsters, illegal gambling, fixed fights, disabling violence and sometimes death. Boxing noirs focus on the exploitation of the powerless, the corrupting influence of fast cash and man’s indifference to the suffering of others. Fighters outstay their viability in the ring and are left broken in spirit and usually penniless. 

The boxing establishment reflects the unjust society from which boxers emerge. They see the fight game as a way out of the maelstrom that is their lives, but it turns into a prison much worse than the place they left.

Like Richard Conte in “Thieves’ Highway,” hauling a load of Golden Delicious apples to a fruit wholesaler in San Francisco, fighters eventually learn that the game is rigged. The average man will never get an even break and will be worse off if he tries to stand up to his tormentors.

Aside from corrupt individuals who run the system, boxers often struggle with their inner strife in their quest to reach the top. They wrestle with self doubt, conflicting loyalties and the threat of annihilation. Their personal lives are typically in turmoil. Pride is often a chief motivator that allows them to make unwise choices. Fans savor sweat drenched, blood spattered competition. They idolize a champ and denigrate an other’s failure. 

The best boxing noirs are pure drama peopled by desperate characters struggling to stay alive in an indifferent world. Like the marathon dancers in “They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?” (1969), fighters risk injury and death just to stay alive — the prize is another day or two of a desolate existence.

Here’s a sampling of some films that display the exhilaration, desperation and ultimate downfall of fighters on their way up:

John Indrisano, John Garfield, Canada Lee,
"Body and Soul" (1947).

"Body and Soul" (1947)

Corruption stands in the way of a young fighter making good in “Body and Soul.” Promising amateur Charlie Davis (John Garfield) reluctantly goes pro despite his mother’s wish that he get an education. The fresh-faced boxer has dynamite in his fists but sags under the guilt he feels over the unfulfilled expectations his mother holds for him. 

When we first encounter Charlie his life has hit the rocks. He’s a pariah to the ones who once cared the most for him. We flashback to his days as an amateur, when some rough breaks force him to make choices about his future. Living on the edge of poverty in Depression era New York, Charlie decides to get into the fight game. He doesn’t want to end up running a candy store like his father. But it’s his dad who supports the young man’s boxing dreams over mom’s objections. 

Once in the world of pro boxing, Charlie encounters numerous promotors and racketeers who have a hand in his pocket. The question is, will the business corrupt Charlie. 

Fights are rigged to accommodate crooked betting. Charlie is ordered to go 15 rounds and let the preordained winner take the contest by a decision. But wounded pride and arrogance can make a fighter go against the bosses, and that’s more dangerous than any combination of punches a prizefighter could face. 

"Champion" (1949)

Ambitious boxer Midge Kelly (Kirk Douglas) will sacrifice everything for success. He has no qualms about the damage he does in and out of the ring in this tale based on a Ring Lardner story. “Champion” is a competent, expertly photographed take on the fight game in the early part of the last century. 

But it has a coat of big studio gloss that softens its edge; Dimitri Tiomkin's mischievous score wants to add comic touches that make the tough stuff more palatable. It doesn’t cop out with a happy ending, but sticks with its tough, uncompromising view of the fight game. 

Unlike the scrappy boxers in other films who lurk in the lowest tier of the sport, Midge enjoys the spoils of his championship. He’s hardly a sympathetic character, save for his hardscrabble upbringing, and like the rising star in a gangster movie, it’s sometimes hard to stay in his corner. As his success in the rings ebbs and flows, Midge is clearly in for a comedown — and that he gets in spades.


Robert Ryan, ”The Set-Up" (1949). 

"The Set-Up" (1949)

“The Set-Up” doesn’t have a complex plot. It focuses on character and packs a lot of movie into it’s 72-minute running time. Fighter Stoker Thompson (Robert Ryan) is in the twilight of a disappointing career. He’s 35, ancient by boxing standards, and fighting in crummy arena’s in backwater towns. He’s in the low-rent district of fictional Paradise City and set to face a young up-and-coming fighter. 

His shifty manager, Tiny (George Tobias), takes a bribe from the gangster fight promotor who arranged the bout. The trouble is, Tiny fails to tell Stoker that he’s supposed to lay down. He figures that the young wild man will make fast work of the old timer, so why cut the sure to lose fighter in on the action? 

Stoker’s girl, Julie (Audrey Totter), wants the aging pugilist to leave the fight game. Delusional as he is, Stoker insists he could be just one punch away from a championship. More likely still, he’s one sock on the forehead away from permanent brain damage. Unable to bear the sight of yet another bout, she’s a no-show at the fight. Stoker is left wondering if she’s left him and this weighs heavily on the fighter’s mind as he faces a worrisome opponent. 

Much of the film’s first part takes place in an appropriately dingy locker room crowded with young and not so young hopefuls waiting for their fight. Some are punch drunk, some not, and each harbors a fantasy of making into the big time. Whether or not they succeed, each is destined to be double crossed and fleeced by promoters and managers, whose corruption knows no limits. 

Stoker finally enters the ring and the fight is emotionally wrenching and dramatically paced. There’s a lot at stake in this match, and Stoker may be in for his last competition on the canvas.

"The Harder They Fall" (1956) 

Former sports columnist Eddie Willis (Humphrey Bogart) is broke and unemployed after his paper shuts down. He reluctantly joins forces with boxing promotor Nick Benko (Rod Steiger) as a PR man for Benko’s crooked enterprises. He’s hired to promote towering Argentinian fighter Toro Moreno (Mike Lane) — “promote” is used loosely here. The ex-newspaperman must create a smokescreen of lies, finessing the tough questions his former colleagues lob about the shaky colossus fighter. 

Moreno looks menacing but is meek in personality, has a glass jaw and possesses no discernible boxing skills. Benko’s plan is to pay Moreno’s opponents to take a dive, allowing the grossly untalented Moreno to get an unearned reputation as a contender. It’s a cinch that once the over-hyped fighter meets a real boxer, the oily Benko will bet on the opponent and let the unprepared Moreno face a virtual buzzsaw blade of physical punishment. 

Steiger, as the villainous boxing promotor, is riveting each time he appears on screen. The hyper rat-a-tat  cadence of his speech is hypnotically persuasive while conveying an unspoken threat of physical harm to anyone who gets in his way. 

This was Bogart’s last film and he looks fatigued, but that fits Willis, who’s exhausted by the charade he’s allowed himself to get involved in. He’s trying to keep his mind on the promise of a large cash payout, not on the poor schlump who will face a beating in the ring. Who wouldn't feel a bit weary with all of that on his shoulders?

Dane Clark, Douglas Kennedy, "Whiplash" (1948). 

“Whiplash” (1948)

Artist Michael Gordon (Dane Clark) falls for a woman, Laurie Rogers (Alexis Smith), who buys one of his paintings. They spend a romantic evening together, but she disappears. He follows her to Manhattan, learns that she’s the wife of a thuggish fight promoter Rex Durant (Zachary Scott). 

Gordon decks one of the Durant’s prizefighters and gets recruited to box. They rechristen him Mike Angelo, as in Michelangelo, because he’s a painter. Still angered by Laurie’s deception, Michael directs his rage toward his opponents and becomes a title contender. 

Michael eventually learns the reason why Laurie stays married to the icy, sadistic Rex. Laurie’s brother, hard-drinking Dr. Arnold Vincent (Jeffrey Lynn), who looks after the fighters under Rex’s employ, plays a role in the mystery that is Laurie and Rex’s relationship. 

Mike is finally given a shot at the title, but he’s at great risk when he enters the ring for his big fight. Odds are he won’t survive. 

Here are some honorable mentions:

“The Big Punch” (1948)

A boxer turned minister offers shelter to a fighter framed for killing a policeman.

“The Fighter” (1952)

In Mexico, a young boxer uses his winnings to buy guns to avenge his family's murder.

“Iron Man” (1951)

An ambitious coal miner is talked into becoming a boxer by his gambler brother.

“The Crooked Circle” (1957)

A young prizefighter finds himself being squeezed on all sides to throw a fight.

Casual Malice: Ascots in Crime Films

Humphrey Bogart, Gina Lollobrigida, 'Beat the Devil' (1953).

What’s in an ascot, you ask? Quite a lot, actually. The loosely tied neckwear that’s tucked inside an open-collared shirt (for hardcore cases, tucked into a smoking jacket) says a lot about the character wearing it. 

Choosing an ascot is a ticklish matter. It can make you appear rakish, roguish and maybe sleazy. It sometimes adds a whiff of foreign intrigue — or at least that’s what the wearer might like you to think. At worst, it’s a bum fashion choice made by a square trying to look like a swinger.

In films, ascots are often worn by slick operators, gigolos, the idle rich and a few crime fighters. Here’s an assortment of the sporty characters and misfits who wear them. 

Robert Walker

Bruno Antony (Robert Walker) “Strangers on a Train” (1951)

Bruno is a confused fellow who mistakenly thinks he’s made a murderous pact with pro tennis player Guy Haynes (Farley Granger). A man of leisure who sponges off his wealthy parents, Bruno has lots of time to dream up fantastical, dangerous schemes. His lounging attire: a dandyish ascot and smoking jacket robe. We’d expect nothing less from him.

Leo G. Carroll, Ruth Roman,
Patricia Hitchcock.

Senator Morton (Leo G. Carroll) “Strangers on a Train” (1951)

For some reason U.S. Senator Morton speaks with a British accent — or is that an Ivy League mid-Atlantic brogue? He wears a robe and ascot to an impromptu late-night family conference because, we assume, that’s the way posh dads dress in Washington, D.C. 

Gina Lollobrigida, Humphrey Bogart.

Billy Dannreuther (Humphrey Bogart) “Beat the Devil” (1953)

Billy is an American traveling overseas with a motley group of cutthroat business associates. At ease on the European continent, he dresses like the locals — his jacket and ascot give him an unstudied, casual air. He’s the antithesis of the ugly American even if some of his travel companions are the scum of the earth.

John Cazale

Fredo Corleone (John Cazale) “The Godfather II” (1974)

The Corleone family shunted their second eldest son Fredo off to Las Vegas to keep him out of harm’s way. Now under the dubious tutelage of casino boss Moe Greene (Alex Rocco), Fredo dresses like a strip club barker and an ascot does little to improve his image. A hipster he’s not.

Al Pacino

Michael Corleone (Al Pacino) “The Godfather II” (1974)
Unlike his brother Fredo, Michael seems relaxed and stylish in an ascot. But, despite his unflappable appearance he's a man who is never fully at ease. Ever on guard, he watches for the next foe to make his move. All the while he’s dressed impeccably.

Edward Fox

The Jackal (Edward Fox) “The Day of the Jackal” (1973)

A hired assassin known as “The Jackal” is every bit the steely killer that his moniker implies. He’s the picture of cool as he attempts to assassinate French President Charles de Gaulle. The ascot affords him a suave, relaxed look that allows him to blend into his environment. But there’s nothing casual about the Jackal — he’s all business.

Cary Grant

John Robie (Cary Grant) “To Catch a Thief” (1955)
Let’s say you’re a retired jewel thief luxuriating on the French Riviera. You’re obviously going to wear an ascot, as does ex-cat burglar John Robie — it’s practically mandated by law. Someone is pilfering expensive trinkets from the fabulously wealthy and the gendarmes think that Robie’s the one behind it all. He’s got to corner the real burglar to prove that his hands are clean. In the meantime, he’s busy romancing Grace Kelly, as retired jewel thieves do. 

Jeroen Krabbe

Gen. Georgi Koskov (Jeroen Krabbe) “The Living Daylights” (1987)
Renegade Soviet Gen. Koskov tries to manipulate the British into assassinating his rival, Gen. Pushkin. Yes, this is a spy story, not a crime film. But let’s remember it’s not just any spy flick, it’s a Bond movie — albeit one that was chosen at random. It belongs to a film dynasty with a decades-long relationship with the ascot. It would be unseemly to ignore that connection.  

Terry-Thomas

Billy Gordon (Terry-Thomas) “Too Many Crooks” (1959)
Billy’s wife is kidnapped by bumbling hoodlums and they’re holding her for ransom. No dice. He’s been carrying on with his secretary and would be delighted to have wifey vanish permanently. His red and white polka-dotted ascot is practically the international banner of rakes worldwide and he wears it with pride.

Roddy McDowall

Rex Brewster (Roddy McDowall) “Evil Under the Sun” (1982)
Writer Rex Brewster finds himself smack dab in the middle of a murder mystery. The deceased woman refused to sign a release document, which tripped up Rex’s plans to publish a tell-all biography of her life. Is he the lout who felled the quarrelsome lady? Beware, Rex sports a red and white polka-dotted ascot. Say no more.

Michel Piccoli

Jacques Granville (Michel Piccoli), “Topaz” (1969)
Spy ring leader Jacques Granville (yes, it’s another spy movie) is the picture of urbane sophistication in his ascot and crimson smoking jacket. The Cuban Missile Crisis unfolds as Westerners scramble to gather evidence of Soviet nuclear missiles positioned on the Caribbean island just south of Key West. Meanwhile, Granville lights up an excellent Cuban cigar. The fate of Western civilization may hang in the balance, but those concerns should never interrupt the enjoyment of a good smoke.

Gene Barry

Capt. Amos Burke (Gene Barry) “Burke’s Law” (1963-’66, ABC-TV)
Suave, sophisticated Amos Burke is a multi-millionaire who lives in a mansion and is chauffeured around in a Rolls Royce limousine. Somehow, he’s also an L.A. homicide detective who solves a tricky murder case each week. After a challenging day of rounding up killers he relaxes at home, as do most lawmen, with a pitcher of martinis and wearing immaculately tailored suits that are often complemented by an ascot.

Joan Crawford, Jack Palance

Lester Blaine (Jack Palance) “Sudden Fear” (1952)
Lester, a classic noir cad, is an unsuccessful actor who gloms onto noted playwright Myra Hudson (Joan Crawford). They get hitched, but Lester and longtime lover Irene Neves (Gloria Grahame) cook up a dark plan for Myra. However, Myra has a few ideas of her own. Lester’s neckwear marks him as a smoothie, but Myra will prove a challenging match for him.

Conclusion
If you yearn to get ahead in a field such as burglary, casino management, law enforcement or espionage consider wearing an ascot. It could help pave the way to a new, exciting career.

FEARSOME 15: Movie Gangsters to Watch Out For

In the movies, henchmen climb to the top of the crime heap by using bombs, bullets and intimidation. Of course, being a terrifying SOB isn’t just a job security tactic – any mobster who’s not feared will often end up as landfill.

The range of badass criminal types runs the gamut:
There are those who are so twisted, rotten and vicious that they make other tough guys lose control of their bodily functions.

 
And there are those who at first glance seem like fairly normal human beings. But when someone crosses them it brings out their inner hatchet murderer. Tempers flare, hateful words are exchanged and pretty soon the badass is up to his ankles in someone else’s blood.

 
Then, there are the ones who get tagged as vicious criminals and are feared by the police and other criminals, too, but they’re not as bad as their reputations would have you believe – or so they claim.
With that in mind, here are some gangsters, thugs and killers who can rightly claim the “badass” moniker:


1. Roy "Mad Dog" Earle (Humphrey Bogart) “High Sierra”

You might admire or fear any gangster who earns the title “Mad Dog.” As a rule, cops and criminals alike approach “Mad Dogs” with great caution, and that’s probably a good idea.

Roy “Mad Dog” Earle, the Indiana bank robber, is released from prison. And after years spent behind bars he wants to get outdoors, out of the darkness and into the sunlight. He even adopts a stray dog, and treats the pooch with kindness.

But Roy is not planning to abandon his life of crime. “High Sierra” is a heist picture, and like any good gangster film, it gives us some insight into the protagonist’s character.
Roy is recruited to take part in a jewel robbery, and while on his way to join the others in the gang, he meets Velma (Joan Leslie), a young woman hobbled with a clubfoot. Roy is smitten with her and pays for her corrective surgery, but she’s got a fiancé and Roy’s hopes of marrying her are dashed. Instead, he takes up with Marie (Ida Lupino).

Roy and the gang rob a swanky Palm Springs resort, but the robbery goes disastrously wrong. Roy escapes, but one of the gang is captured and sings to the police. Roy runs for the mountains with Marie, but they soon split up so she can make a getaway.

 
An all-points bulletin is posted, calling Roy “Mad Dog Earle.” It’s the news media that hangs that tag on him. Roy is cornered and a standoff with the law ensues. A media circus forms around the mountainous site where he’s is hiding out.

Roy has finally made it to the great outdoors, just as he’d dreamed, but the alpine setting holds him prisoner just as surely as the bars and concrete of the penitentiary once did. For Roy, there is no freedom.

2. Tom Powers (James Cagney) “The Public Enemy”

In “The Public Enemy,” young Tom Powers and his pal Matt Doyle commit petty thefts and sell the stuff they steal to adult gangster Putty Nose. In later years, Putty Nose gets them to help burglarize a fur store. Tom and Matt gun down a police officer who is chasing them as they attempt to make a getaway. They go to Putty Nose for help but he leaves them in the lurch.

 
Years later, they accidentally run across their former Fagin-like mentor. Putty Nose pleads for his life and plays an old favorite tune on the piano to try to get the boys to let him off the hook for old time’s sake. But Tom is not in a forgiving mood, and he shoots Putty Nose in the back.

 
Like many movie gangsters, Tom starts out with high ambitions. But he finds that his success in the bootlegging business means leading an increasingly violent life. His trigger-happy ways rise to an absurd level when his buddy, Samuel "Nails" Nathan, is killed in a horseback riding accident. Tom hunts down the horse and shoots it.

 
When his war hero brother Mike (Donald Cook) bitterly criticizes the violent life he leads, Tom sets the record straight. “Your hands ain't so clean,” he says. “You killed and liked it. You didn't get them medals for holding hands with them Germans.”

 
In another famous scene, Tom cements his bad boy image when he grinds a grapefruit half into his complaining girlfriend’s kisser.

When Tom’s bootlegging operation begins to fall apart, rivals see their opportunity to take over, and a gang war begins. This pre-code drama sticks with the standard message of that era’s gangster films: In the end, the bad guy pays for his crimes.

3. Tony Montana (Al Pacino) “Scarface”

In “Scarface,” Tony Montana starts out as a feisty upstart bent on success and turns into a hardened criminal, his face buried in a pile of cocaine. But consider the company he keeps, including one desperado who gives super-close haircuts with a chainsaw. 

In his first meeting with a Columbian drug cartel leader, Tony narrowly escapes death, but his associate, all-around bad guy Omar Suarez (F. Murray Abraham), is not so lucky – he’s forced to do some skydiving out of a helicopter with no parachute.

Like the drug trade people he’s chosen to deal with, Tony transforms into a cold-blooded killer. But he’s not without his redeeming qualities. Ordered to kill a journalist who is bringing heat down on a drug lord’s cartel, Tony agrees to the assignment to appease the cocaine supplier. But he finds that it won’t be the clean hit he was expecting – innocent people will also be killed. He abandons the plan even though it means facing difficult and dangerous consequences.

Tony’s situation goes from bad to worse, until his private lair is under siege from troops of invaders dispatched by the drug lord he has angered.

When the final showdown between him and his cocaine supplier’s army goes down, Tony is armed with a grenade-launcher-equipped M-16. Predictably, the resulting carnage and destruction marks the end of the Tony Montana drug empire.

4. Caesar Enrico "Rico" Bandello (Edward G. Robinson) “Little Caesar”

In the opening scene of “Little Caesar,” Rico Bandello sticks up a gas station and murders the attendant in cold blood – shocking in 1931, especially when it’s done by the leading man of a Hollywood feature film.

Rico joins forces with gangster Sam Vettori (Stanley Fields) and proceeds to intimidate Vettori and his band of feckless hoodlums. When Rico bullies his longtime pal and reluctant cohort Joe Massara (Douglas Fairbanks, Jr.) to rob the nightclub where Massara works, he gives in, but the heist goes wrong. Rico guns down crime commissioner Alvin McClure, an anti-mob crusader, who happens to be at the scene.

Crime boss Vettori is beside himself when he learns that Rico violated his no-bloodshed rule. Rico tells Sam he’s gotten soft, and he proceeds to take control of Sam’s gang.

 
Rival gang leader "Little Arnie" Lorch (Maurice Black) aims to get rid of Rico. In one of the film’s most memorable scenes, Lorch’s men spray the sidewalk with machine gun bullets that only graze Rico and smash crockery in a storefront window. 

Rico, being the crazed killer that he is, is undaunted by the attack and vows to go after his assailants. Lorch makes a getaway, but Rico eventually must answer for the crimes he has committed.

5. Cody Jarrett (James Cagney) “White Heat”

Cody Jarrett may be everyone’s favorite deranged killer. In “White Heat,” he commits acts of murder and mayhem, and meets a spectacular end.

 
Jarrett, a career criminal whose only true confidante is his mother, "Ma" Jarrett (Margaret Wycherly), suffers from debilitating headaches. Ma comforts him during his attacks. She gives him a shot of booze and a toast. “Top of the world,” she says. That’s a phrase they both repeat more than once in the course of the film, and it has an ironic ring as the picture concludes.

Eventually, Cody is sent to jail for a one to three stretch, and while he’s away a member of his gang, "Big Ed" Somers (Steve Cochran), orders Roy Parker (Paul Guilfoyle), who is in prison with Cody, to kill him, but the plot fails.

Ma visits Cody in jail and tells him she’s going to go after Big Ed, and Cody frantically tries to talk her out of it.

Later, in one of the film’s most famous scenes, Cody learns that his mother is dead. He’s in a packed prison mess hall and he goes berserk.

 
He breaks out of prison and drags his would-be killer Parker with him. Once in the outside world, he puts Parker in the trunk of a car. Parker tells him it’s hard to breathe in here. Nonchalantly gnawing on a chick leg, Cody shoots “air holes” into the trunk hood, killing Parker.

 
Later he guns down Big Ed for the death of Ma Jarrett, but Cody’s wife, Verna (Virginia Mayo), actually pulled the trigger on Cody’s beloved mom.

Cody regroups and engineers an armored car robbery, which goes awry. He makes his getaway but is cornered atop a large gas storage tank. In a crazed fury he shouts “Top of the world, Ma,” as the police open fire on him. The tank explodes and Cody is consumed in a gigantic ball of flames.

6. Vince Stone (Lee Marvin) “The Big Heat”

Homicide detective Sgt. Dave Bannion (Glenn Ford) investigates the suicide of a fellow police officer, and that begins his unrelenting probe into the cozy relationship between organized crime and higher ups in the department. A barrage of threats, assaults and murders ensue as Bannion digs into the sleazy operations of mob boss Mike Lagana (Alexander Scourby).

Lagana’s number two man, the brutal Vince Stone, is the one who brings menace to the screen. Lee Marvin turns in a first-class performance of the sadistic lackey who has a penchant for brutalizing women.

 
The suicide victim’s mistress offers Bannion some inside information about the case, and she turns up dead, tortured with cigarette burns all over. In another scene, Stone punishes a woman by burning her hand with a cigar butt – the connection between the two incidents is unavoidable.

But the most savage scene in the film involves Stone punishing his girlfriend for being too mouthy by throwing a pot of boiling coffee in her face. The police commissioner, who happens to be one of Stones poker buddies, is on hand to drive the scalded girl to the hospital. Badly disfigured, she gives Bannion more information that will help bring the mobsters to justice, but in doing so she seals her own fate.

7. Marty Augustine (Mark Rydell) “The Long Goodbye”

This Raymond Chandler story adapted to the screen 20 years after his 1953 novel was published brings private eye Philip Marlowe (Elliot Gould) into a world that’s alien to him. 

It’s the 1970s and Marlowe’s crime beat, Los Angeles, is no longer the place it once was. Protest marches, hippies and head shops have found their way into the gritty mean streets that are more familiar to the detective.

Even the criminals are different. At first, mobster Marty Augustine does not come across like the roughnecks in Chandler’s novels. When Marlowe first meets him, the detective takes the criminal kingpin even less seriously than he does the L.A. cops who pop in occasionally rattle his cage. 

Augustine travels with a gaggle of inept henchmen and as leader of the pack he’s witty and charismatic. He rambles on about managing his financial responsibilities, paying for his mansions, supporting his family … and his mistress. He could be just another harried fat-cat Hollywood producer.

But then the gloves come off. The mob leader uses a glass Coke bottle and his own girlfriend’s face to demonstrate to Marlowe what will happen if the detective doesn’t fall into line. “This is what I do to someone I love,” Augustine tells Marlowe, “And I don’t even like you, cheapie.”

8. Vic Vega (Michael Madsen) “Reservoir Dogs”

If each time you hear the song “Stuck in the Middle with You” you immediately think of straight razors and gasoline, you just might be a Vic Vega fan. Vic is part of a motley group of hoods brought together for a heist by gang leader Joe Cabot (Lawrence Tierney). The crew aims to hold up a jewelry store and make off with a cache of uncut diamonds.

 
We never see the robbery take place, but in the aftermath we learn that things didn't go as planned. Unbeknownst to the crooks, one of them is an undercover cop, and the police have been in on the robbery plot all along. Another fact the band of thieves in unaware of is that Vic is a no-holds-barred psycho.

The gang makes its getaway from the crime scene and scatters in different directions. The plan is to meet up at their warehouse hideout. In retelling the sequence of events in the aftermath of the botched holdup, we learn just how badly things went. Larry Dimmick (Harvey Keitel) is shocked and disgusted that Vic took it upon himself to murder the jewelry store staff in cold blood.

But the worst has yet to come. Vic, also known as Mr. Blonde – each of the henchmen is tagged with an alias – shows up with a uniformed police officer he’s kidnapped.

The other robbers leave, and Vic and the cop are alone, so Vic uses the opportunity to torture the cop as the song “Stuck in the Middle” plays in the background. What follows is a sadistic sequence of events that abruptly end with a twist. Fortunately, the worst carnage takes place off camera. Suffice it to say that Vic Vega stands tall among the legion of mentally disturbed, animalistic screen criminals.

9. Tommy DeVitto (Joe Pesci) “Goodfellas”
Small-time gangster Tommy DeVitto is one of a trio of friends that includes hijacker and killer Jimmy Conway (Robert De Niro) and Henry Hill (Ray Liotta). Like Tommy, Henry is a kid from the neighborhood who started working for the local mob at an early age. The three are bosom buddies who rob, beat up people and party together. 

When we first meet Jimmy, Henry tells us in voiceover that “Jimmy the Gent” as some know him, was doing hits for the mob when he was just a teenager. 

However, we don’t get a sense of how vicious and unpredictable Tommy is until we see him in a Chinese restaurant with Henry and other hoods they roll with. Henry’s offhand comment to Tommy, “You’re really funny,” launches the hotheaded Tommy into a rant that leaves Henry and everyone else at the table in a panicked hush. “Funny how? Funny like I’m a clown? I amuse you?”

Instead of zooming in tight on the action the camera stays wide on the whole table, and we see the expressions on everyone’s faces as they watch in muted dread. One wiseguy tries to talk Tommy down to no avail. But then Henry calls Tommy’s bluff and we find out it was all a dark prank Tommy played on his rattled dining companions. There’s relieved laughter all around the table, but then we realize that Tommy is a truly dangerous loose canon – even his close friends think it’s possible that he’d use lethal force on his longtime buddy over a perceived insult.

The scene tells us a lot about Tommy: He’s extremely thin-skinned, has a bad temper and could lash out in violence at anyone without notice.

 
Later in the film we see Tommy liquidate a number of individuals, a couple of whom made the mistake of insulting him in front of other wiseguys; an affront that cannot go unpunished.

10. Sam Wilde (Lawrence Tierney) “Born to Kill”
If you had to choose a fictional character whose name perfectly describes who he is, you might pick Sam Wilde (Lawrence Tierney) in “Born to Kill.” Like a steaming locomotive that has run off the track and continues to chug forward, Sam puffs on his ever-present cigarette, leaving a plume of smoke and utter destruction in his path.

He’s a jealous guy who doesn’t like anyone cutting in on him. That’s why he murders his girlfriend and her gentleman visitor.

 
Helen Brent (Claire Trevor), the murdered woman’s neighbor, discovers the bodies but doesn’t bother to tell the police. She’s just gotten a Reno divorce and wants to get out of town so that she can marry her rich fiancé. She runs into Sam, and is attracted to him, despite the complication that she’s already set to get hitched.

Sam comes calling on Helen in San Francisco, and upon meeting Helen’s younger foster sister, who happens to have more than a few bucks in the bank, decides to take up with her. He marries her for her money, and carries on an affair with Helen.

The story’s multiple deceptions begin to fall apart when a private detective who has been looking into the Reno murders blackmails Helen. In the resulting confusion, Sam kills his friend Marty (Elisha Cook Jr.), who he thinks is plotting against him, and finally he shoots and kills Helen just before the police kill him.

11. Anton Chigurh (Javier Bardem) “No Country for Old Men”

What can you say about a hitman who kills people with a pneumatic gun used on cattle in the slaughterhouse? 

Anton Chigurh, a cold-blooded and utterly insane hit man hired by the drug cartel, has a number of other tricks up his sleeve.

A deputy sheriff who thinks he has Chigurh safely secured in handcuffs finds out the hard way that this crazed murderer is not to be underestimated.

The story revolves around a bagful of cash that a hunter, Llewelyn Moss (Josh Brolin), stumbles upon while shooting elk. A drug deal gone bad left a pile of bodies, heroin and around $2 million in loot there for the taking. Llewelyn grabs the money, and the rest of the movie centers on the chase to find the hunter and the moolah.

Chigurh is hired to recover the money that Llewelyn made off with. A creature of habit, Chigurh has a ritual he uses on occasion when he’s preparing to snuff someone. He flips a coin and has the would-be victim call heads or tails. If they win the flip, they live. If not, he makes short work of them on the spot.

Llewellyn’s wife, Carla Jean, is hiding at her mother’s house and Chigurh, speaking to Llewellyn on the phone, tells him he’ll kill Carla Jean if he doesn’t get the money back, but Llewellyn refuses.

Meanwhile, Llewellyn is killed by another party hunting down the money who got to him before Sheriff Ed Bell (Tommy Lee Jones) could.

Chigurh tracks down Carla Jean, and although she doesn’t have the money, Chigurh, in his twisted sense of justice, feels that it’s his duty to kill her anyway. She refuses to call heads or tails in Chigurh’s coin flip, but that, of course cannot make Chigurh abandon his twisted quest.

12. Jules Winnfield (Samuel L. Jackson) “Pulp Fiction”

Before Jules Winnfield, no one could recite Bible passages with the strident menace that he gives them. Jules and his gangster pal Vincent Vega (John Travolta) are sent to perform a hit and retrieve some valuables from a gang of young would-be hoodlums, who go weak in the knees when Jules and Vic come through the door.

Jules begins an extended game of intimidation with the young hoods, which includes eating one of the kid’s cheeseburgers and drinking all of his soda. At first, it seems he’s being the school lunchroom bully, until the intensity gets turned up a few notches.

After reducing the ringleader of the group Brett (Frank Whaley) to a state of utter panic, and shooting one of his cohorts and wounding Brett, Jules feels that he’s toyed with them long enough and goes in for the kill.

He begins reciting a Bible passage attributed to Ezekiel 25:17. It’s a passage also used in a 1976 film, “The Bodyguard,” with Japanese martial arts star Sonny Chiba. This is part of Jules’s sadistic routine to further terrorize victims he is about to deep six.

The Bible passage recitation is part of an important turn in the story, however. Jules admits he started reciting Ezekiel to the doomed to be more of a cold and cruel badass. But in this scene, he and Vincent experience a miracle of sorts, and because of this Jules has an epiphany – the words of Ezekiel take on a new meaning for him. 

He decides to leave gang life behind. "I'm going to walk the earth ... like Caine from Kung Fu," he says. Vincent stays on with the gang, and soon afterwards meets a dark fate.

13. Kathie Moffat (Jane Greer) "Out of the Past"

Sometimes, a character who seems like the devil incarnate is outdone by someone tremendously more evil than he. Gang boss Whit Sterling’s (Kirk Douglas) crisp, authoritative manor befits the successful businessman thug that he is. And while there’s a lot of bloodshed in “Out of the Past,” Sterling is just the overseer who stands on the sidelines while others pull the triggers.

 
The dangerous one is his girlfriend, the two-timing Kathie Moffat (Jane Greer), who looks innocent but turns out to be a cold-blooded killer and master manipulator.

The story begins when one of Sterling’s men hunts down Jeff Bailey (Robert Mitchum), who has been hiding out in a small town ever since he double-crossed Sterling. Several years before, Sterling hired Jeff, who was then a private investigator, to find Kathie, whom he said shot him and ran off with $40,000 of his money.

 
When Jeff finds her in Mexico she convinces Jeff that she didn’t take money from Sterling. A love affair develops between them, and instead of bringing her back to Sterling he takes her away to San Francisco to hide out. 

But Jeff’s old partner, Jack Fisher (Steve Brodie), spots them and demands blackmail money. Kathie shoots Fisher dead and tries to pin the murders of Fisher and Sterling’s accountant on Jeff. She later kills Sterling, and offers Jeff the opportunity to run away with her and the money she took from Sterling, or take the rap for all three murders. 

Jeff tells her that he will go away with her, but he secretly tips off the police. When they unexpectedly encounter a roadblock, Kathie realizes she’s been double-crossed and she shoots and kills Jeff, them fires at the police, who kill her.

14. Dix Handley (Sterling Hayden) “The Asphalt Jungle”

Dix Handley isn’t the kind of gangster that goes straight for the gun whenever someone crosses him. Instead, he stares down his opponents, who always seem to realize that they’d be better off backing down than pressing their point. Other gangsters call him a “hooligan,” but only behind his back.

There’s been a holdup, and Dix is the chief suspect. The cops bring Dix in for a lineup, and corrupt police lieutenant Ditrich (Barry Kelley) tries to steer the witness, the night clerk (Frank Cady), toward identifying Dix as the culprit. But Dix gives the clerk the 1,000-yard deadeye stare, and the meek eyewitness’s liver turns to jelly. He tells the cops that Dix isn’t the stickup man.

When Dix goes to sleazy bookmaker Cobby (Marc Lawrence) to bet on the ponies, but Cobby balks at giving him credit. “Don’t bone me,” he shouts at the bookie, who is genuinely petrified of Dix. Later, after Dix leaves the bookie’s lair, Cobby calls Dix a “hooligan,” and remarks that, “They’re all like left-handed pitchers. They’ve all got a screw loose.”

Dix gets involved in a jewel heist masterminded by Doc Erwin Riedenschneider (Sam Jaffe). The heist goes off, but not as planned, and Doc and Dix go to the man who financed the caper and agreed to pay them for the hot gems, Alonzo D. Emmerich (Louis Calhern ). They arrive at Emmerich’s home and Dix has a stare-down with Bob Brannom (Brad Dexter), a private detective in Emmerich’s employ. Once again, Dix’s withering glare makes the hired gumshoes back down. Gunplay ensues, and Dix kills the Brannon but he is wounded.

 
The driven Dix flees and although seriously wounded, makes the 10-hour car ride to his boyhood home in Kentucky. He arrives at his beloved horse ranch, but it’s too late to realize his dream of buying back the property his family once owned.

15. Johnny Clay (Sterling Hayden) “The Killing”
In Stanley Kubrick’s, “The Killing,” Johnny Clay, (Sterling Hayden) rounds up a carefully selected gang to rob a racetrack, noting that most of the men he’s chosen aren’t criminals in the usual sense. They’ve all got families and jobs and are living respectable lives. “They’ve all got a little larceny in them,” he says.

His handpicked partners in crime are all flawed in different ways, and those problems play a role in the story as it unfolds.

George’s (Elisha Cook Jr.) two-timing wife, Sherry (Marie Windsor), constantly browbeats him for not keeping her in riches. He tells her about the top-secret robbery scheme in the naive hope that she will finally respect and love him.

When the snooping Sherry shows up on his doorstep, Johnny has her number. Crime novelist Jim Thompson wrote the film’s dialogue with his usual knack for earthy thug-speak. “I don’t think I’ll have to kill her,” Johnny tells one of his cohorts. “Just slap that pretty face into hamburger meat, that’s all.”

Johnny brushes aside Sherry's naive seductress act. “You like money,” he tells her. “You've got a great big dollar sign there where most women have a heart.” His observation is right on the mark, but she proves to be Johnny and the gang’s downfall.