Film Quarterly
Hemingway's "The Killers" and Heroic Fatalism: From Page to Screen (Thrice); Booth, Philip
Literature/Film Quarterly 01-01-2007
Heroic fatalism, or fatalistic heroism, a dignified, graceful acceptance of one's circumstances in the face of personal disaster up to and including one's death, is a theme that surfaces in Ernest Hemingway's short story "The Killers" and elsewhere in his short fiction and novels. That theme is pointedly explored in three films adapted from the story. Robert Siodmak's feature, a black-and-white film noir starring Burt Lancaster, Ava Gardner, and Edmond O'Brien, was released in 1946, followed a decade later by Andrei Tarkovsky's black-and-white short, made while the revered Russian director was still in film school. Don Siegel's color made-for-television adaptation, with Lee Marvin, CIu Galager, John Cassavetes, Angie Dickinson, and Ronald Reagan, played theaters in 1964.
The Hemingway character most willing, and perhaps even most eager, to accept his own terrible destiny is Ole Andreson, a former boxer also referred to as the Swede, in "The Killers." The character, according to "The Art of the Short Story," an essay Hemingway wrote while in Spain during May and June 1959, was inspired by "Agile" Andre Anderson, bom in Denmark. Anderson, on one occasion, beat his opponent after agreeing to throw a fight, as Hemingway told Gene Tunney, a heavyweight boxing champion of the late '20s: "All afternoon he had rehearsed taking a dive, but during the fight he had instinctively thrown a punch he didn't mean to" (Young 35). The boxer had knocked down Jack Dempsey in a 1916 bout that ended in no decision, and was shot to death a decade later in a Chicago cabaret.
The story, written in Madrid (Flora, Ernest 139) and originally titled "The Matadors," was first published in March 1927 in Scribners. The magazine, which had rejected Hemingway's story "An Alpine Idyll," accepted "The Killers" in late August 1926 for $200. Hemingway told F. Scott Fitzgerald that he had sent the story merely "to see what the alibi would be" if it were rejected. Fitzgerald, who at the time was earning $3,000 per story from The Saturday Evening Post, wrote a note of encouragement to his friend and rival: "I hope the sale of 'The Killers' will teach you to send every story either to Scribners or an agent" (Donaldson 101).
"The Killers," which was included in the collection Men Without Women, published in October 1927, and in The Nick Adams Stories (1972), marked Adams's final appearance as an adolescent in the interrelated stories. The sole Adams story not set in Michigan, it was moved from Petoskey, a resort town in that state, where Hemingway had lived after World War I, to the Illinois city of Summit, a suburb of Chicago. The relocation, closer to the nexus of criminal activities in the Midwest, adds verisimilitude to the story, as Flora notes in Hemingway's Nick Adams: "Petoskey is far removed from the centers of boxing, and an unlikely place for a boxer who gets in wrong to be waiting to be murdered. Readers associate such events with big cities-especially Chicago" (97).
The story, at surface level, is straightforward. Two hired killers, Al and Max, dressed in long coats and derby hats and described as looking like "a vaudeville team" (219), walk into a small-town diner. The two proceed to question, taunt, and psychologically terrorize George, the establishment's operator; his friend Nick Adams, the sole customer at the moment; and Sam, the African-American cook. Al takes Nick and Sam to the kitchen at the rear of the diner and ties them up, and Max reveals the gunmen's plans to kill Andreson. The killers finally leave, giving Nick time to run up the street to Hirsch's rooming-house, where the Swede is a boarder. Nick, against the advice of the scared but pragmatic Sam, frantically warns Andreson of the impending arrival of Al and Max. But the Swede, described as lying on a bed too small for the body of a former heavyweight, insists that any efforts on his part would be futile. He refuses to take action, and offers a
cryptic explanation-his crime, and impending punishment, relates to a mistake in judgment made a long time ago. He says he fell in with a bad crowd: "I got in wrong" (221). For the last act, Nick and George, back at the diner, bemoan Andreson's fate. George suggests that the Swede must have "double-crossed somebody" in Chicago (222), and Adams vows to leave Summit.
"The Killers," like many of Hemingway's short stories, gains maximum dramatic impact from the minimum. Al, Max, George, Nick, Sam, Andreson, and Mrs. Bell, the manager of the boarding house, are the sole characters. The story's four scenes are bolstered by very little physical description, of either characters or locales, as demonstrated by a passage regarding the exterior of the diner: "Outside it was getting dark. The street-light came on outside the window" (215). The dialogue, particularly that between the killers and between the killers and their hostages, relies on notably short, clipped sentences, offering the sensation of words being spit out and exchanged rapidly, like machine-gun fire. The technique was common to the era's hardboiled fiction.
The horror of the story, frontloaded with characters inspired by Hemingway's experiences with low-level criminals in Kansas City (Berman 79), stems in part from the waiting forced upon George, Nick, and Sam. The three, facing the threat of bodily harm, are harassed for more than two hours while the hit men wait to see if the Swede will show up to eat at the diner, as is his habit. When George, informed of the killers' intentions to terminate Andreson, asks Max what the killers will do with their trio of temporary hostages, the answer he gets is frighteningly noncommittal: "'That'll depend,' Max said. 'That's one of those things you never know at the time'" (218). Al and Max would not have anything to lose by getting rid of those to whom they have revealed their evil intentions; in one respect, they would gain an advantage, by eliminating the witnesses to the crime. Thus, the diner denizens' brush with death is made all the more horrifying. Al, speaking
to Max, is notably reluctant to leave the diner without cleaning up what he perceives as an unnecessarily messy situation: "'I don't like it,' said Al. 'It's sloppy. You talk too much.'" A moment later, he offers another hint that the captives have had a close brush with death: "'So long, bright boy,' he said to George. 'You got a lot of luck'" (219).
Andreson's decision to choose death by opting not to flee seems incomprehensible to Nick; the latter asks, repeatedly, if something might be done to save Andreson's life, and the Swede replies, again and again, that nothing can be done to change his fate. According to Hal Blythe and Charlie Sweet, "Ole is passive and deterministic; in his refusal to act, he accepts that death is imminent [...]" (37). His resolve, although leaving too many questions unanswered, is portrayed as admirable and mature, and his violent death is in keeping with themes that are recurrent in Hemingway's work, according to Soviet literary critic Ivan Kashkin: "For Hemingway, life is inseparable from death and is a fight at close quarters in which his heroes overcome not only the fear of death but the fear of life's intricacies and the disintegration threatening the individual" (qtd. in Parker 492-93).
Andreson's decision to calmly, coolly wait on his own execution triggers the action and informs the central themes in both feature-length film adaptations of the story. Each film, clearly cashing in on the cachet of the author's name, is titled Ernest Hemingway's The Killers.
Hemingway's work, by the mid-1940s, had been utilized as the source for feature films on three occasions, twice under the auspices of Paramount Pictures. A Farewell to Arms, with Gary Cooper and Helen Hayes in the lead roles, was released in 1932, landed in 1933 on the Motion Picture Herald's roster of "box office champions" and generated substantial publicity for the author (Leff). The film, directed by Frank Borzage, won Oscars for cinematography and sound and was additionally nominated for best picture and best art direction. Hemingway characters again visited the big screen eleven years later, with the commercially successful For Whom the Bell Tolls, starring Gary Cooper and Ingrid Bergman, and directed by Sam Wood. That movie also received Academy Awards attention, with nine nominations; Katina Paxinou won an Oscar for best supporting actress. To Have and Have Not, a Warner Bros. picture with Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall, directed by Howard
Hawks, with contributions to the script by William Faulkner, was released in 1944, to similar box-office success (Alpi 153).
The 1946 version of The Killers was helmed by Mark Hellinger, an independent Hollywood producer affiliated with Universal, and formerly contracted to Warner Bros. Hellinger's experiences as a hard-living New York entertainment journalist and short-story writer with Broadway and Mob connections had informed his work as a writer on The Roaring Twenties (1939) and as an associate producer on They Drive by Night (1940) and High Sierra (1941), all released by Warner Bros. and directed by Raoul Walsh (Alpi 153).
Hellinger's first choice for director was Siegel, a busy second-unit director best known for directing the Oscar-winning 1945 documentary Hitler Lives, a treatise on the continuing influence of Hitler's ideas in postwar Europe. Siegel, though, could not easily or inexpensively be released from his contract with Warner Bros. to work for Siodmak at Universal: "(Jack) Warner, who hated Hellinger and loathed me, said an immediate, 'No,' and hung up," Siegel writes in his autobiography (235).
The script, begun by Siegel, was also worked on by Richard Brooks, a publicist, and, finally, by filmmaker John Huston, a Warner Bros. employee, under the supervision of Anthony Veiller, according to Siodmak biographer Deborah Lazaroff Alpi. Veiller, a Hollywood veteran and uncredited contributor to Gunga Din (Stevens, 1939), received screenwriting credit, but Huston was solely responsible for the third and final draft of the script, as Siodmak told the Los Angeles Times in 1951 : "The script was in fact by Huston. His name didn't appear on the credits because he was under contract to another studio at the time, but he wrote the script for us in his spare afternoons-with Tony Veiller cracking the whip occasionally" (Alpi 154).
Huston, who wrote and directed the 1941 noir classic The Maltese Falcon, wanted to direct The Killers, but he disagreed with Hellinger about several issues related to the structure of the film. So the job went to Siodmak, a Memphis-born, German-bred filmmaker who had already directed several much-admired noirs, including Phantom Lady (1944), and the financially and critically successful The Spiral Staircase (1945), a favorite of Hellinger's (Alpi 154).
The Killers, marked by several resemblances to Siodmak's earlier German-made crime films, including Sturme der Leidenschaft (1932) and Der Mann, der seinen Mörder sucht (1931), represented common ground for Siodmak and Hellinger. Both men were fascinated by the workings of the criminal underworld, as Alpi suggests:
Like Hellinger, Siodmak was interested in character more than anything else, and for his first Hollywood gangster film he was determined to abandon the black-and-white portraits that suffused much of the gangster films of the [']30s, which to him presented "types and not characters" for a deeper, more complex portrait of the workings of the criminal mind." (154)
Siodmak's film, which marked the first screen appearance of the Nick Adams character, opens with an image of two shadowy figures seated in the front seat of a moving car. They are photographed from behind, offering a view of the men and their hats, the white line, and the road ahead. Then a sign appears-"Brentwood, New Jersey. Drive Carefully." Next appears a shot of a cityscape, with a diner to the far right of the frame, and long shadows stretching toward the bottom. The credits play over this shot, as killers Al (Charles McGraw) and Max (William Conrad) walk toward the screen, peering into the windows of a gas station. Dressed in derbies and long coats, they step from the darkness into the light and back into the darkness again.
Woody Bredell's high-contrast cinematography, enhanced throughout by low-key lighting, offers a moody intensity that is reminiscent of the work of Fritz Lang, F. W. Murnau, and G. W. Pabst. These filmmakers are among the German expressionists whose 1920s work had so heavily influenced Siodmak, as noted by Raymond Borde and Etienne Chaumeton in their groundbreaking 1955 study, A Panorama of American Film Noir (79). That quality is in keeping with the noir tradition, as crime novelist and screenwriter Stuart Kaminsky notes in a videotaped interview included on the Criterion Collection DVD, which contains all three versions of the movie: "It's in some ways very typical of what would be called a film noir. It's dark. Most of it is shot on sets, which are very carefully illuminated. Siodmak's style of darkness is actually written into the script."