Why did Lee Marvin Give the Cops the Finger?

Lee Marvin, as Charlie Strom, a man in a quandary.

One of hitman Charlie Strom's victims didn't try to run and save his own life, and Charlie needs to get to the bottom of it

(Contains spoilers)

By Paul Parcellin

If you’ve seen “The Killers” (1964) starring Lee Marvin and Clu Gulager you might have an unsettling feeling about the film’s ending. I sure did. 

The 1964 movie has little in common with the Ernest Hemingway story upon which it’s based except for the title. Screenwriter Gene Coon insisted that the script should not quote any Hemingway dialog or include any scenes from the 1946 film adaptation starring Burt Lancaster. Director Don Siegel wholeheartedly agreed with Coon’s vision. He wanted to ignore the earlier screen adaptation and create a fresh, original take on the material. 

Also, Siegel had a bitter history with the earlier project. Producer Mark Hellinger asked him to direct the 1946 film, but studio boss Jack Warner forbid the rookie director from helming the project and veteran director Robert Siodmak was hired instead. 

Clu Gulager, as Strom’s fellow hitman, Lee.

Without question, the 1964 version is miles apart from the earlier flick. For starters, it’s in color, unlike Siodmak’s earlier black and white film. But mainly, Siegel’s film is told from one of the two hitmen’s point of view while the 1946 adaptation is seen through the eyes of an insurance investigator played by Edmund O’Brien.

Plus, Siegel’s film focuses on a question that gnaws at hitman Charlie Strom ( Marvin): Why didn’t the victim try to run and save his life? It’s an existential quandary that Strom carries with him and only bubbles up to the surface at the film’s end.

Strom is the consummate professional, in contrast with his less disciplined partner in crime, Lee (Gulager). Strom, the older of the two, maintains his focused demeanor and makes no mistakes until greed enters the picture and clouds his vision.

Angie Dickinson, as femme fatale Sheila Farr.

Surrounded by cops, Strom tries to escape, even though he’s trapped and certain to be captured. He ends up unarmed, so instead of blasting his way out he pulls his hand out of his pocket, aiming his fingers like a pistol and is immediately shot dead. It’s a brutally overpowering ending and it leaves us with another puzzle that flips his question about the victim of the hit, race car driver Johnny North (John Cassavetes):  Why does Strom not only allow but actually invite the police to shoot him?

In a short commentary included with the disc’s special features, critic Stuart M. Kaminsky says that the finger-gun move was a reflex action, but I beg to differ.

Strom is too cool a customer to make a fatal mistake like that. His final dramatic gesture is rooted in the riddle he needed to solve. He wonders why North didn’t try to avoid the angel of death when he and Lee shot him.

John Cassavetes, as race car driver Johnny North.

It’s rumored that North was in on a million dollar heist, and Strom decides to follow the money and perhaps get a piece of it. That sends him and Lee on a quest to find and question those closely associated with the victim. But underneath it all is that troubling question, and beyond the possibility of a big score, finding the answer to it is what most intrigues him.

After untangling North’s backstory, Strom finds the answer he’s looking for.

“The only man who’s not afraid to die is the one who’s dead already,” Strom tells femme fatale Sheila Farr (Angie Dickinson). “You killed him four years ago.” Not literally, of course, but her double dealing crushed him and set him up for murder. She and North planned to double-cross gang leader Jack Browning (Ronald Reagan) and make off with a cache of loot. It’s no wonder Browning hired Strom and Lee to kill North — or did he? Sheila might have had a hand in that.

Ronald Reagan, as gangster Jack Browning. 

As Strom begins to understand Johnny North’s predicament, his time on earth grows shorter. Why did the question get under Strom’s skin? Perhaps he saw something of himself in the victim. 

Strom is a dark, brooding, steely professional. He seems to have no family or friends, save from his fellow hitman. His professional function as a killer is his life and nothing else seems to exists for him. He’s as dead inside as the murdered race car driver and the money is all he cares about. But the nagging question about North’s death won’t let him go. 

Strom traces the money to Browning, and he plans to grab it from him, but it all goes wrong. He’s caught in a shootout at Browning’s residence and all of his avenues of escape are cut off. He’s wounded — earlier, Browning shot him and killed Lee — and tries to get away, but police surround him. His sudden, impulsive move with his hand pointed like a gun draws fire and Strom is taken down, still gripping the money. It could be a suicide by police, or simply an act of defiance. 

Like North, he accepts or maybe even welcomes his fate. Rather than put up his hands and go to prison he chooses to go out in a blaze of gunfire. What does it matter when you’re already dead?

Amnesia Noir: 30 Films Worth Remembering

Alan Ladd, William Bendix, “The Blue Dahlia” (1946).

When Returning War Vets and Others
Suffer Memory Blackouts, Murder is Often Afoot

By Paul Parcellin

Total amnesia, the kind that wipes out memories like a damp sponge on a chalkboard, probably happens more often in movies and television than in real life. Rare as it may be, it’s a frequent problem in cinema — some call it the common cold of film noir. 

Movies about battle scarred GIs returning from overseas, disengaged from their past and unsure of their place in post-war society must have struck a chord with soldiers coming home from the battlefield — why else would Hollywood have told and retold that story in so many films? On a symbolic level, the amnesiac in films may have resonated with many a veteran who would have preferred to forget much of what he’d seen and heard in combat.

John Hodiak, Nancy Guild,
"Somewhere in the Night" (1946).

In the movies, those unlucky enough to suffer from extreme cases of amnesia are remarkably isolated. Unable to recollect any family ties or friends that could connect them to their past, they search for details that will flesh out their identity. They must navigate through a peacetime world fraught with dangerous characters while dodging the consequences of previous events blotted out of their memories. 

Rather than seek out familiar faces — for them, there are none — they haunt their old stomping grounds, hoping that someone will recognize them and help fill in the blanks. But that’s risky business and they’re often sitting ducks for foes posing as friends.

As a rule, the amnesiac was not an accountant, plumber or any other kind of humdrum wage slave in their pre-amnesia state. Many were involved in, or adjacent to, criminal activity. Consequently, a spate of old enemies looking to settle scores crouch in the shadows, ready to pounce. Sometimes it’s underworld figures, other times it’s the police, either of which could spell doom for the ones with no past.

Here are 30 films about returning soldiers, and civilians, too, in which crime and memory loss cross paths. Sometimes, a memory is erased by battle wounds or combat fatigue. For others, a night of heavy drinking, drugs, or a violent encounter create the same mental fog. Either way, each is lost and unable to trust anyone, including themselves:

“Beware, My Lovely” (1952)

A mentally disturbed handyman (Robert Ryan) on the run, for reasons even he doesn't understand, takes a job at the house of a lonely war widow (Ida Lupino) in 1918. He suffers from memory lapses and extreme mood swings. Soon, she’s a prisoner in her own house.

Dan Duryea, June Vincent, Peter Lorre, “Black Angel.”

“Black Angel” (1946)

Alcoholic pianist Martin Blair (Dan Duryea) is convinced that a heart-shaped brooch is a crucial clue in the investigation of his ex-wife's murder. Suspicion builds around dodgy nightclub owner Mr. Marko (Peter Lorre). But darker truths emerge.

“Blackout” (1954)

A broke American in London (Dane Clark) meets a woman (Belinda Lee) who offers to pay him for a marriage of convenience. He agrees, but awakens bloodied in a strange place, having unknowingly become entangled in her father's murder.

“The Blue Dahlia” (1946)


Ex-bomber pilot Johnny Morrison (Alan Ladd) is suspected of murdering his unfaithful wife. His shell-shocked pal, Buzz Wanchek (William Bendix), suffers memory lapses. He may or may not have committed the murder.

“The Blue Gardenia” (1953)


A telephone operator (Anne Baxter) ends up drunk and at the mercy of a cad (Raymond Burr). The next morning she wakes up with a hangover and the terrible fear she may have committed murder.

“Brott i sol” (1947)

After having spent six years in an asylum, Harry (Birger Malmsten) returns home. He soon remembers what happened six years ago. He had five of his friends over and one of them, Raoul (Curt Masreliez), was murdered. In order to find out which of them is the murderer, he invites them over to reconstruct the crime.

Jimmy Lydon, Claudia Barrett, “Chain of Evidence.”

“Chain of Evidence” (1957)

Paroled inmate Steve Nordstrom (Jimmy Lydon) is viciously assaulted, leaving him an amnesiac. He aimlessly wanders until he’s used as a patsy by an adulterous wife and her lover who aim to kill her rich husband.

“The Chase” (1946)

Chuck Scott (Robert Cummings) gets a job as chauffeur to tough guy Eddie Roman (Steve Cochran), but Chuck's involvement with Eddie's fearful wife, Lorna (Michèle Morgan), becomes a nightmare. To make matters worse, a recurring war malady causes Scott to lose his mental focus just when he needs to be at his sharpest.

Bill Williams, Frank Wilcox, “The Clay Pigeon.”

“The Clay Pigeon” (1949)

It’s quite a bringdown to awaken from a coma only to discover that you’re suspected of murder. Jim Fletcher (Bill Williams) is in a U.S. Naval hospital and about to be court marshalled for a crime he cannot remember committing. To make matters worse, everyone seems to think he’s traitorous scum.

“Crack-Up” (1946)

Art curator George Steele (Pat O’Brien) has a mental breakdown and thinks he was in a train wreck. Is he cracking up, or the victim of a wicked plot?

“Crime Doctor” (1943)

Amnesia victim Robert Ordway (Warner Baxter) becomes the country's leading criminal psychologist. After he is hit on the head by someone from his past, he suddenly remembers his previous life as a criminal.

John Payne, “The Crooked Way.”

“The Crooked Way” (1949)

Eddie Rice (John Payne) is such an upright, good natured sort that we can scarcely believe that he committed dastardly acts before the war. A chunk of shrapnel is permanently lodged in his brain and he’s suffering from amnesia. But his ex-wife, Nina Martin (Ellen Drew) and gangster Vince Alexander (Sonny Tufts), are more than willing to refresh his memory.

“Crossroads” (1942)

French diplomat David Talbot (William Powell) is blackmailed for crimes that he committed before he lost his memory. The blackmailer alleges the diplomat committed a bank robbery and murder. Talbot was long ago treated for amnesia as the result of a physical trauma.

Bill Williams, Earle Hodgins, “Deadline at Dawn.”

“Deadline at Dawn” (1946) 

Sailor Alex Winkley (Bill Williams) and dance-hall girl June Goffe (Susan Hayward) spend a long night trying to solve a murder. After a drink-induced blackout, Winkley woke up with a pocketful of cash he received from the victim. Now he's only got until daybreak to figure it out.

“Derailed” (1942)

An uptown girl (Illona Wieselmann) loses her memory after getting a disturbing message from her doctor. She ends up in the wrong part of town among criminals and prostitutes. She falls in love with the tough guy (Ebbe Rode), who recently got out of prison.

“Fall Guy” (1947)

Joe Fraser (Elisha Cook Jr.) meets Tom Cochrane (Leo Penn) at a bar, seemingly by accident, and brings him to a party filled with seedy characters and drugs. Before the evening’s out a sexy blonde slips Tom a Mickey. He awakens on the sidewalk, stained with blood, a bloody knife by his side. He has no memory of what went on the previous evening but vaguely remembers finding the body of a murdered girl stuffed in the closet.

“Fear in the Night” (1947)

Bank teller Vince Grayson (DeForest Kelley) dreams of murdering a man in a room full of mirrors. He investigates and finds that there's ample evidence that he did commit murder. But there may be a shadowy figure lurking behind the scenes. 

“Female Fiends” (1958) (a.k.a. “The Strange Awakening”)

Peter Chance (Lex Barker), is attacked by a hitchhiker he picked up and is left unconscious. He awakens in a strange room with no memory. The homeowner, Selena Friend (Carole Mathews), tells him he is her son and is heir to millions.

“Hangover Square” (1945)

Composer George Harvey Bone (Laird Cregar) is under stress, which causes him to blackout whenever he hears dissonances. Strange gaps in his memory are troubling signs, especially after a murder occurs.

“High Wall” (1947)

After a brain-damaged war veteran Steven Kenet (Robert Taylor) confesses to murdering his wife and is sent to a psychiatric hospital, Dr. Ann Lorrison (Audrey Totter) tries to lead him to recover his memory of events as he begins to question his guilt.

“Key Witness” (1947)

With his wife out of town, unsuccessful inventor Milton Higby (John Beal) parties with a friend and two girls they meet. When he awakens from a drunken stupor, he finds the girl he was with has been shot and killed, and he is suspected of the murder.

Anthony Quinn, “The Long Wait.”

“The Long Wait” (1954)

Hitchhiker Johnny McBride (Anthony Quinn) is badly hurt and loses his memory when the car he’s riding in crashes. Two years later, a clue leads him to his old home town, where he finds he is a murder suspect. Johnny tries to discover the truth about the murder, while pursued by gangsters and several seductive women.

“Man in the Dark” (1953) 

Unlucky Steve (Edmond O'Brien), a convicted felon, is released from prison after undergoing an experimental procedure that erases from his brain all criminal impulses — the side effect being permanent memory loss. 

“Murder on Monday” (1952)

Banker David Preston (Ralph Richardson) goes missing for 24 hours and has no memory of the lost time. When he learns that the steward of his local club has implicated him in a robbery and has been found murdered, Preston has no alibi.

Hildegard Knef, Gary Merrill, “Night Without Sleep.”

“Night Without Sleep” (1952)

Awaking one morning after a night of hard drinking, composer Richard Morton (Gary Merrill) can't shake the feeling he has murdered a woman during the night.

“Nightmare” (1956)

New Orleans clarinetist Stan Grayson (Kevin McCarthy) dreams he committed a murder. He recalls from his dream a mirrored room with many doors, and a murder committed with an ice pick. Based on a Cornell Woolrich novel, “And So To Death.”

“Somewhere in the Night” (1946)

George Taylor (John Hodiak) awakens in a military hospital, and to his horror discovers that his memory has been wiped clean by a serious wound he received in the war. He embarks on a mission, believing he may fill the black holes that have replaced his memories. He searches for leads but all he’s got is a letter from a man he doesn’t know, the mysterious Larry Cravat.

Burgess Meredith, “Street of Chance.”

“Street of Chance” (1942)

Frank Thompson (Burgess Meredith) awakens to find that he's lost his memory. He slowly puts the pieces of his life together and discovers that he has a second identity, and that he's been accused of a murder that he can't remember committing. Based on the Cornell Woolrich novel “The Black Curtain”

“Violence” (1947)

Undercover reporter Ann Mason (Nancy Coleman) infiltrates a neo-fascist group that recruits disgruntled veterans, but amnesia prevents her from exposing them.

“Voice in the Wind” (1944)

Concert pianist Jan Volny (Francis Lederer) lost his memory after being tortured by the Nazis during the war. He journeys to the island of Guadeloupe to try to regain his memory and his health. Meanwhile, smugglers Angelo (Alexander Granach) and Luigi (J. Carrol Naish) blame Jan for setting fire to their boat.

'The Killers': Nagging Questions In a Haze of Gunsmoke

Left, Burt Lancaster, “The Killers” (1946).
Right, Lee Marvin, “The Killers” (1964).

In both versions, sports heroes have tragic downfalls and alluring women enter the picture to offer a helping hand — it doesn’t turn out well for the wounded competitors

By Paul Parcellin

“The Killers” (1946) Robert Siodmak (director) — “The Killers” (1964) Don Siegel (director), The Criterion Collection, [Blu-ray]

Why on earth would a man facing the barrel of a gun fail to run away or at least try to evade death? That’s one question raised in both the 1946 version of “The Killers” and the 1964 film of the same title, both adapted from an Ernest Hemingway short story. 

But the main puzzle, the one that drives the action, is who’s in possession of the cash that was swiped in a brazen holdup? 

Criterion’s release offers both versions on a single disc that demands a comparison of the two.

Charles McGraw, William Conrad, Harry Hayden, "The Killers" (1946).

In director Robert Siodmak’s 1946 film, insurance investigator Jim Reardon (Edmond O’Brien) seeks the beneficiary of former prizefighter Ole “Swede” Anderson’s (Burt Lancaster) life insurance policy. The Swede went down for the final count in a shabby rooming house when two gunmen burst in and opened fire. 

Reardon finds the woman who is to receive the policy payout, but in doing so discovers that the Swede lived a complex life. The ex-pugilist fell on hard times and was involved in a heist that netted a big pile of cash that’s still missing. Reardon decides to find and retrieve the loot for the insurance company and get to the bottom of the Swede’s mysterious death.

John Cassavetes

In Don Siegel’s 1964 film, the search is on for the proceeds from another big robbery, but this time the ones doing the investigation are hitmen Charlie Strom (Lee Marvin) and his partner in crime, Lee (Clu Gulager). The duo murder former race car driver Johnny North (John Cassavetes), and are determined to recover loot from a heist that North took part in. Charlie is focused on recovering the money, but he’s also bothered by a question — why did North not try to save himself when the hitmen came calling?

Both victims have the makings of one kind of Hemingway hero, skilled competitors in macho professional sports, and each with a dark side. Lancaster’s Swede sees his prizefighting career fade away as he breaks his right hand in a bout that turns out to be his last match. Cassavetes’s Johnny, the headstrong race car driver, pushes his luck and damages his eyesight in a wreck, leaving him unable to compete. Both he and Swede feel diminished and their excessive pride takes a beating.

Angie Dickinson

Before meeting their unfortunate comedowns, each is smitten with a dangerous girl who’s apparently cozy with a powerful crime boss. After their accidents, they struggle to maintain a hold on their respective aggressively material girls. No longer the cocky, virile competitors they once were, both has-beens struggle for the woman’s love and admiration to revitalize their lives. They remind us a bit of Hemingway’s Jake Barnes in “The Sun Also Rises,” who is left impotent by a wound received in the Great War.

The ladies, Kitty Collins (Ava Gardner), Swede’s love interest, and motorsports groupie Sheila Farr (Angie Dickinson), reel them in and then offer to connect them with some pals who are plotting a big score. Both guys can’t resist the opportunity to win their respective girl by grabbing a pile of loot and showering her with minks and diamonds — or so they think.

The story takes a number of twists as the two fallen heroes submerge into the criminal world. In short, they’re two prideful tough guys eventually broken by femmes fatale. Neither one catches on to the cold truth that the deck is stacked against them until it’s much too late.

Ava Gardner

Anthony Veiller, who adapted Hemingway’s story for Siodmak’s film, also co-wrote “The Stranger” (1946) and was an uncredited collaborator with John Huston and Truman Capote on the screenplay for “Beat the Devil” (1953). His version of the story is structured like “Citizen Kane” (1941), with Reardon chasing down clues and interviewing people who knew Swede. The bulk of the story is told in flashbacks as those closest to the deceased man recount their dealings with him. 

In contrast, Siegel’s film proceeds in a more linear fashion with a minimum of flashbacks. For the most part, the story simply follows Charlie and Lee as they chase after a pile of cash and, in true Lee Marvin fashion, wreak havoc on anyone who tries to stop them. The opening sequence is a corker. The two killers track down Johnny in a school for the blind where he teaches auto mechanics and take him out in a roomful of unsighted witnesses.

While both films have similar plots, their look could hardly be more different.

Edmond O’Brien, Sam Levene, “The Killers” (1946).

Veteran cinematographer Elwood “Woody” Bredell photographed Siodmak’s moody black and white noir. His rock-solid crime film credits also include “Phantom Lady” (1944), “Lady on a Train” (1945) and “The Unsuspected” (1947).

Because Siegel’s film was created for TV, Richard L. Rawlings, a cinematographer with extensive television credits was chosen to shoot it, and on the surface it’s as un-noir-like as a film can get. Like most other TV shows of that era, scenes are bombarded with bright light and nary a shadow is in sight. Each shot pops with saturated color — producers felt that TV shows needed to be visually vibrant to compete with household distractions.

Ronald Reagan's last film role
"The Killers" (1964)

That strategy didn’t pay off as expected. Broadcast executives wanted no part of the film’s violent onscreen action. Siegel shopped it around for a while, then decided to release it theatrically. It was not a major box office hit, but stylistically it was influential. Siegel later directed “Dirty Harry” (1971), and “The Killers” helped set the tone for that mega-successful Clint Eastwood film as well as many others throughout the coming decades. 

Oddly enough, Siegel was initially tapped to direct the 1947 version of the film, but studio higher ups put the kibosh on that, citing the young director’s lack of experience. Instead, Siodmak, a veteran behind the camera, was chosen. 

Siegel’s film is perhaps his vengeance for that disappointing incident years before, as he finally caught up with the one that got away.

Like Siegel, hitman Charley Strom finds that patience pays off. Eventually he discovers the answer to his question about Johnny’s meek acceptance of his fate. Nick Adams (Phil Brown), Swede’s young co-worker and friend is left to ponder the same question. When Nick goes to warn him that his life is in peril, Swede doesn’t explain his downfall, but tells him, “I did something wrong, once.” It’s a puzzle that remains an open ended question, but eventually we see the reasons for Swede’s powerlessness to resist the gunmen. He’s been reduced to a shell of himself and death is inevitable — a sad fate for a wounded hero whose life takes a tragically wrong turn.

The Criterion disc features new high-definition digital restorations of both films, plus extras such as a 2002 interview with Clu Gulager, an audio excerpt from Don Siegel's autobiography, “A Siegel Film,” Screen Directors Playhouse radio adaptation from 1949 of the 1946 film, starring Burt Lancaster and Shelley Winters as well as essays by novelist Jonathan Lethem and critic Geoffrey O’Brien. It’s a feature-packed disc that noir fans ought to add to their libraries.