‘Murder by Contract’: This Guy Kills Me

Vince Edwards, Caprice Toriel, 'Murder by Contract' (1958).

Dreams of a suburban home,
picket fence and a garden

can lead a man to homicide

By Paul Parcellin

"I want to be a contractor,” announces Claude (Vince Edwards), a determined, 30ish guy in the middle of an unusual kind of job interview at the start of “Murder by Contract” (1958). The shot cuts to an abrupt closeup as he utters those words, emphasizing that this is a turning point in his life, the first step on the way to becoming a professional hitman. 

It may have taken a lot of thought before making his decision, but we’re never sure because almost all of Claude’s past is cloaked in mystery. In the course of the meeting he reveals to his interviewer, a retired real estate man named Mr. Moon (Michael Granger), that he never writes anything down, meaning he doesn’t leave a paper trail. But that could also describe his shadowy presence as a man with no personal history, certainly none that he’s willing to share. What we do know are the meager facts he reveals and whatever else we can glean from his actions. 

He’s got a decent paying job with benefits, but wants to buy a house and needs more money to do so. As a potential hitman, his vocation puts him well outside the mainstream, but his basic middle class aspirations are rather, well, mundane. Underneath the bravado, Claude is just a square. He’s after that thing described in a trite couplet we love to parrot, the “American dream,” the only difference being that he’s willing to take a route that is untraversable for most of us. 

His interviewer asks him what makes him different from others. “I don’t make mistakes,” he says. We gather that from the methodical way he operates, the careful, almost ritualistic way he dresses prior to his interview. Those lacking a more conventional moral code cling tightly to a rigid order of their own, you see. 

Claude's exercise regimen echoed in 'Taxi Driver.'

Mr. Moon tests Claude’s mettle by making him wait for the phone call that will offer him an assignment, and Claude’s self-confidence and determination remain in place like a wall of granite.

He waits at home for the phone to ring, dressed in a jacket and J.C. Penny tie, then doing calisthenics in his shabby rooming-house quarters. By the way, the obsessive workout scenes in “Taxi Driver” (1976), in which Travis Bickle (Robert De Niro) exercises feverishly in his own scruffy room, were inspired by Claude’s workout regimen, according to director Martin Scorsese, who maintains that “Murder by Contract” had a greater impact on him as a filmmaker than any other feature film. 

Murder in a barber shop.

When Claude finally makes the grade as a hired killer, he dispatches a couple of targets in a businesslike manner, staying perfectly cool in each of apparently his first two professional killings. The film’s scenes echo Claude’s economy of style, just showing enough to give us the idea of what is about to happen, particularly when violence occurs. We never see much of the rougher stuff, but are chilled when Claude, posing as a barber, strops a straight razor as a target relaxes in the chair, languidly unaware of what is to come. He used the tools at hand and never carries a gun lest he be stopped and searched. 

So many blanks are left for us to fill in that “Murder by Contract” feels as edgy as French new wave cinema. It wouldn’t look out of place on a double bill with Jean Pierre Melville or Robert Bresson’s work of that same era. In fact, Claude’s zen-like focus on his new vocation seems echoed by Jef Costello (Alain Delon) in Melville’s “Le Samourai” (1967).

When Claude’s unseen employer is finally convinced of his reliability, Claude is sent to Los Angeles on a special contract, the details of which he doesn’t learn before accepting the job. In the City of Angels he meets up with two handlers, George (Herschel Bernardi) and Marc (Phillip Pine) who are meant to oversee Claude, but Claude turns the tables on them. Befuddled and nearly at the end of their rope, the two don’t seem so much like gangsters, more like student teachers trying to keep the class bad boy under control. 

Herschel Bernardi, Edwards, Phillip Pine, the killer and his handlers.

Their interactions bring a touch of wit that a story as grim as this needs. Fitting in perfectly with the film’s minimalist style, the musical soundtrack by Perry Botkin, which is often a single guitar, is as spare as it is effective — think of Anton Karas’s zither soundtrack in “The Third Man” (1949). 

Director Irving Lerner hit a home run with this, one of his handful of gritty crime dramas. Before directing “Murder by Contract,” Lerner made documentaries, produced and edited films, then shifted gears with low-budget feature films including “Edge of Fury (1958) (sharing directing credits with Robert J, Gurney, Jr.), “City of Fear” (1959) as well as a number of dramas, war pictures,  westerns and TV shows. With “Murder by Contract,” he handles with assurance what must have seemed like edgy material in 1958. Lerner’s confidence is reflected in Claude, who is unconventional and sure of himself to the point of cockiness. 

Claude is a bit of a rock star compared with the two mob errand boys, and they both know it. George comes to admire Claude while Marc is fairly disgusted with him. His opinion doesn’t improve when Claude insists on relaxing instead of going to work. He swims at the beach, goes deep sea fishing and whacks golf balls at a driving range — Claude enjoys exasperating them both.

As cool and detached as he appears, Claude’s mood changes dramatically when he learns that the person he’s been hired to kill is a woman. She’s the wife of a deceased mobster who’s set to testify against the organization. He doesn’t like the idea of killing a woman, not that he believes it’s wrong, but unlike men, they’re unreliable, he says. You can predict when a man will move and where he will stand, but women move in unexpected ways. 

Claude breaks his own rule and uses firearms.

It’s telling that he refers to women as “unreliable,” perhaps alluding to his own relationships with women — perhaps even his mother. His rage comes to the surface when a room service waiter delivers a coffee cup with lipstick stains. He denigrates the waiter’s work ethic and remarks that the lipstick was left by “some pig” — he refers to women that way more than once, especially if he believes they have loose morals. Beyond his revulsion over a dirty cup, the lipstick traces convey the presence of a female and that upsets him and temporarily shakes his confidence. But, despite his moralistic judgment of women he’s not above ordering up a call girl when he sees fit. 

As his deadline approaches he finally gets down to the business of murder. His target is hiding out in a house nestled away in the Coldwater Canyon neighborhood of Los Angeles and is under police guard. That means he must keep his distance while doing the job, but his initial attempts at striking from the hillside above the house don’t go as planned. 

Billie Williams (Caprice Toriel) in leopard print, like big game.  

He’s forced to take another tack, this time getting close to the woman, and the stress on him is telling. He plans meticulously as usual but is unsteady on his feet. 

In what proves to be his downfall, he forges ahead, not only because he faces a dour fate if he fails — by this point his boss believes he’s botched the job and he’ll be lucky to get out of town alive. His obsessive work ethic compels him to complete the job, like any industrious citizen pursuing a comfortable suburban life on a leafy byway. In other words, the American dream. 

Out of the Shadows (and onto the Cathode Ray Tube)

Raymond Burr in 'Pitfall' (1948).

Film noir heavies and second bananas of the 1940s got respectable in the late ‘50s and ‘60s when they morphed into TV doctors, lawyers and sitcom moms and pops. But could they ever wash the stage blood off their hands?

You mean Mom and Pop were once arch criminals? Jeepers!

Yup, those affable folks we’d tune in to see on weekly TV series followed twisted paths in their younger days, when noir filled movie screens across the country. 

The Actors of Film Noir

In the 1940s and ’50s they murdered, robbed and kidnapped. Some were cops who chased, collared and manhandled hoodlums — Miranda rights weren’t a thing yet. Ever in close proximity to the scum of the earth, they were the ones in low-budget, gritty crime stories, always in black and white, relentlessly exploring the seedy underbelly of urban life. The dramas unfolded mostly at night, lit by neon signs and police spotlights. They chain-smoked cigarettes, bet on the ponies and kept a flask of hooch and a racing form in their coat pocket.

But by the late 1950s these denizens of the night left the silver screen — by choice or otherwise. Some made their way onto the small screen and starred in network television shows. Their transformation may have been a jolt for noir fans. The straight-laced characters they played on the boob tube were a far cry from the jackals and cutthroats some portrayed in films. No more brass knuckles and suitcases stuffed with loot. Instead it was family picnics, PTA meetings and touch football. Knuckle-dragging tough guys were replaced by wacky neighbors.

So, here’s a far from exhaustive list of some of the actors who made the leap into TV roles that starkly contrast with their former noir selves:

William Bendix and Hugh Beaumont in
The Blue Dahlia' (1946)

Hugh Beaumont played Ward Cleaver in the popular family sitcom “Leave It to Beaver” (1957 – ’63). But his TV sons, Theodore (Beaver) and Wally, and wife June, would be shocked to learn what skullduggery he was up to before he went straight. He was the shady Michael Dunn in “Bury Me Dead” (1947), where he may have been involved in a bludgeoning murder. His other noir roles were milder, but he persistently roamed among rough characters. In “Railroaded” (1947) he is police Sgt. Mickey Ferguson, investigating the murder of a fellow officer. In “The Blue Dahlia” (1946) he was George Copeland, whose Navy buddy, Johnny Morrison (Alan Ladd), is accused of murdering his wife. He also appeared in “Tokyo Joe” (1949), “Phone Call from a Stranger” (1952), “The Fallen Sparrow” (1943), “The Lady Confesses” (1945), “Night Without Sleep” (1952), “Apology for Murder” (1945), “Money Madness” (1948), “Pier 23” (1951) and “Alias Mike Hercules” (1956).

William Bendix, an actor who pulled off stunning personality changes, also appeared in “The Blue Dahlia” (1946) as Buzz Wanchek, Navy buddy to George and Johnny. Buzz, shell-shocked in the war, has painful seizure-like episodes and he just might have murdered Johnny’s wife during one of his fits. Among the numerous roles in crime films Bendix that played was the sadistic henchman Jeff in “The Glass Key” (1942), who gleefully beats Alan Ladd to a pulp. He also appeared in “Detective Story” (1951), “They Drive by Night” (1940), “The Web” (1947), “Macao” (1952), “The Dark Corner” (1946), “The Big Steal” (1949), “Calcutta” (1946), “Dangerous Mission” (1954), “Cover Up” (1949), “Crashout” (1955), “The Hairy Ape” (1944), “Race Street” (1948), “Johnny Holiday” (1949) and ”Gambling House” (1950). Who would have guessed that Bendix would turn up as the good-natured, occasionally put-upon, bumbling pop in the TV sitcom “Life of Riley” (1953 – ’58) — could Jeff be Riley’s evil doppelganger?  (Just a thought).

Barbara Stanwyck and Fred MacMurray
in 'Double Indemnity' (1944)

And then there were Walter Neff (Fred MacMurray) and Phyllis Dietrichson (Barbara Stanwyck), who plotted to ice Phyllis’s blowhard husband in “Double Indemnity” (1944). In the chilling murder scene, Walter pounces on the hubby and throttles him in the front seat of the family sedan as Phyllis calmly drives — ice water flows through her veins. In “Borderline” (1950), MacMurray plays an undercover cop trying to bust a drug smuggling ring. He was a corrupt cop in “Pushover” (1954) and a man in search of a stash of pearls in “Singapore” (1947). How odd it was to see him pivot to the role of widower Steve Douglas in the family sitcom “My Three Sons” (1960 – ’72). His roles in light-hearted family-friendly Disney movies were also a hoot.

Speaking of Barbara Stanwyck, she appeared in countless film noir roles, including the murderous Phyllis in “Double Indemnity” and the bedridden victim of a deadly plot in “Sorry, Wrong Number” (1948). Her other noirs include “Clash by Night” (1952), “The Two Mrs. Carrolls” (1947), “The Strange Love of Martha Ivers” (1946), “No Man of Her Own” (1950), “Crime of Passion” (1956), “Witness to Murder” (1954), “The File on Thelma Jordon” (1949), “The Lady Gambles” (1949), “The Other Love” (1947) and “Jeopardy” (1953). She later portrayed family matriarch Victoria Barkley in the TV western drama “The Big Valley” (1965 – ’69). It wasn’t her first western. She appeared in many, most notably as Jessica Drummond in Samuel Fuller’s “Forty Guns” (1957). But “The Big Valley” was among her most successful series, running four seasons. She also hosted a TV anthology series, “The Barbara Stanwyck Show” (1960 – ’61).

Robert Young and Jane Wyatt.

Robert Young played Larry Ballentine, a fast-talking, slippery character who ends up on trial for murder in “They Won't Believe Me” (1947). In “The Second Woman” (1950), he’s Jeff Cohalan, a guy who’s plagued by bad luck, persecution, or maybe paranoia. In “Crossfire” (1947), he’s Finlay, an investigator looking into a murder of suspicious circumstances. Later, he ditched the trench coat and put on a cardigan and portrayed average middle-class American dad Jim Anderson, father of Betty, Bud and Kathy, in TV sitcom “Father Knows” Best (1954 – ’60). Later, he starred as the kindly, wise physician in “Marcus Welby, M.D.” (1969 – ’76).

Jane Wyatt played Jim Anderson’s wife, Margaret, in “Father Knows Best.” Before her days in the Anderson household she was middle-class housewife Sue Forbes in “Pitfall” (1948), Marjorie Byrne in “House by the River” (1950), Lois Frazer in “The Man Who Cheated Himself” (1950), all solid noirs. 

An actor famous for portraying disreputable characters, Raymond Burr played numerous louts, sadistic mobsters, corrupt detectives and murderers in “Desperate” (1947), “Pitfall” (1948), “Raw Deal” (1948), “I Love Trouble (1948), “Walk a Crooked Mile” (1948), “Red Light” (1949), “Borderline” (1950), “His Kind of Woman” (1951), “The Blue Gardenia” (1953), “Rear Window”(1954) and “Crime of Passion” (1956). He finally ended up on the right side of the law as the eponymous Los Angeles defense attorney in the TV drama “Perry Mason” (1957 – ’66).

His “Perry Mason” co-star, William Talman, played District Attorney Hamilton Burger, the poor stiff who never won a case against Perry — except one, but Burger’s record was otherwise pitiful. He was something less that pitiful when he played sadistic killer Emmett Myers in “The Hitchhiker” (1953), the murderous Bailey in “The Woman on Pier 13” (1949), Dave Purvis in “Armored Car Robbery” (1950), Officer Bob Johnson in “The Racket” (1951) and Hayes Stewart in “City That Never Sleeps” (1953). Other noirs he appeared in include “Big House, U.S.A.” (1955), “Crashout” (1955) and “The Man Is Armed” (1956).

Vince Edwards in 'The Killing' (1956).

It wouldn’t be unfair to label Vince Edwards a punk, a thief and an adulterous murderer — in his early film roles, that is. He was double-crossing holdup man Val Cannon in Stanley Kubrick’s “The Killing” (1956), paid killer Philip Pine in “Murder by Contract” (1958), a murderous mechanic in “Hit and Run” (1957). His noir credentials also include “The Night Holds Terror” (1955), “Dark Passage” (1947). As the 1960s arrived, Edwards reformed and became the “against the medical establishment” Dr. Ben Casey in the TV drama “Ben Casey” (1961 – ’66).

Harry Morgan went from playing average guy Pete Porter on TV sitcom “Pete and Gladys” (1960 – ’62), to crime fighter Officer Bill Gannon alongside Sgt. Joe Friday in “Dragnet” (1967 – ’70). Later, he was Col. Sherman T. Potter in the Korean War-based TV sitcom M.A.S.H. (1972 – ’83). But in his pre-television roles he was often an unsavory character — a thug, a stooge, a flunky, and what have you. He appeared in “Dark City” (1950), “Not as a Stranger” (1955), “The Big Clock” (1948), “Somewhere in the Night” (1946), “All My Sons” (1948), “Scandal Sheet” (1952), “Moonrise” (1948), “Red Light” (1949), “Appointment with Danger” (1950), “Strange Bargain” (1949), “The Gangster” (1947), “The Saxon Charm” (1948), “Race Street” (1948) and “Outside the Wall” (1950). 

Agnes Moorehead.

Agnes Moorehead co-starred with Humphrey Bogart when she played Madge Rapf in “Dark Passage” (1947). She earned her noir credentials playing characters such as Ruth Benton in “Caged” (1950), Christine Hill Cosick in “14 Hours” (1951), Juliana Borderau in “The Lost Moment” (1947) and Mrs. Matthews in “Journey into Fear” (1942). Later, she played overbearing witch-mother-in-law Endora in TV sitcom “Bewitched” (1964 – ’72).  

You may know him as the grumpy, bigoted working-class word-mangler Archie Bunker in TV sitcom “All in the Family” (1971 – ’79), but Carroll O’Connor played crime boss Brewster in ‘Point Blank’ (1967) and an uncredited role as a prison guard in “Convicted” (1950).

Donna Reed found herself in dicey company in “Chicago Deadline” (1949), “Scandal Sheet” (1952), “Ransom!” (1956). Later, she became a doctor’s wife Donna Stone and an all-American mom in “The Donna Reed Show” (1958 – ’66). 

Lucille Ball in'The Dark Corner' (1946).

Before she starred in one of the most popular TV sitcoms of all time, “I Love Lucy” (1951 – ’57), and all of the other iterations of the series that followed, Lucille Ball was rubbing shoulders with underworld mugs. She played Kathleen Stewart in "The Dark Corner" (1946), and appeared in “Blood Money” (1933) and “Lured” (1947). 

Herbert Gillis (Frank Faylen) was Dobie’s dad on the TV sitcom “The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis” (1959 – ’63). But before that he was Stan in “99 River St.” (1953), John Payne’s fellow cab driver/dispatcher/boxing trainer. Other noirs he appearing in include “The Lost Weekend” (1945), “They Drive by Night” (1940), “Detective Story” (1951), “The Blue Dahlia” (1946), “Convicted” (1950), “You Can't Get Away with Murder” (1939) and “Riot in Cell Block 11” (1954).

Sitcom “The Patty Duke Show” (1963 – ’66) featured identical twin cousins. Patty Duke played both roles — and you thought “Bewitched” and “I Dream of Genie” were far-fetched? Patty's dad (and Cathy's uncle) Martin Lane (William Schallert), was the gas station attendant who gets bumped off in the beginning of "Down Three Dark Streets” (1954). He also plays the assistant D.A. in “Shield for Murder” (1954). His other work in noirs includes “Cry Terror! (1958), “M” (1951), “The Reckless Moment” (1949), “Riot in Cell Block 11” (1954), “The Tattered Dress” (1957), “The People Against O'Hara” (1951), “Black Tuesday” (1954), “Hoodlum Empire” (1952) and “The Girl in the Kremlin” (1957).

Walter Brennan, left, and John Garfield
in 'Nobody Lives Forever' (1946).

Walter Brennan was Grandpa Amos in “The Real McCoys” (1957 – ’63). He was the lovable but gruff old codger who often gave his family unsolicited advice. Who would suspect that the occasionally ornery Amos led a double life? In “Nobody Lives Forever” (1946) he played penny-ante con man Pop Gruber who teams up with ex-GI Nick Blake (John Garfield) to fleece suckers and make a big score. He was Humphrey Bogart’s sidekick in “To Have and Have Not” (1944) — “Was you ever stung by a dead bee?” He also appeared in “Hangmen Also Die!” (1943), Fritz Lang’s “Fury” (1936), “Nobody Lives Forever” (1946), “The Racket” (1928) and “Grief Street” (1931).

A Final Word …

No doubt about it, mom and pop’s younger selves kept unsavory company and may have even bumped off, robbed or terrorized a few unfortunates. On the plus side, their later TV selves became model citizens. All of which proves that sometimes it’s better to forget the splintery past and focus on the present.