Black and White and Red All Over

Robert Blake, who played TV detective Tony Baretta in the popular 1970’s show, and Scott Wilson star as Perry Smith and Dick Hickock, two-laid back, recently-paroled ex-convicts with grand ambitions. Unfortunately for them and an unsuspecting Kansas family, those ambitions involve armed robbery and murder. Tipped off by a former prison cellmate, Hickock convinces Smith to undertake a 400-mile trip across desert highways to find a stash of $10,000 that a wealthy farmer named Herbert Clutter (John McLiam) supposedly keeps in a safe at home. The screenplay for this grim film was written by Richard Brooks (The Blackboard Jungle, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof), and was based on Truman Capote’s book.

The subject matter alone does not earn this movie its R rating, nor is the worst violence depicted onscreen. Plenty of earlier films were just as morbid, many more so. The profanity, although about one-tenth as much as compared to modern films, was likely considered shocking by 1967 standards, and probably was the deciding factor.

The genius of this movie is that it engenders sympathy for both the victims and their killers. Smith and Hickock are not portrayed as saints, but ultimately they appear to be more misguided and confused than they are wicked. Both have a hard time comprehending reality, and both fail to see the possible consequences of their actions. A number of flashbacks to Smith’s initially happy, then disastrous, childhood drop some clues as to what might ail him. But Hickock is an enigma. Audiences never find out exactly what went wrong with him; they just know that something did. He is almost childlike in his criminal behavior, like early in the film when he steals some razors from a drugstore. Even Smith is annoyed. “That was stupid,” he tells his friend. “Stealin’ a lousy pack of razor blades! To prove what?” “It’s the national pastime, baby,” Hickock proudly replies. “Stealin’ and cheatin’.”

Smith is a little hesitant in carrying out the crime, asking his friend several times if this particular plan is a sure thing, and if he really thinks that the pair can afterwards retire to Mexico. In fact, when the two finally arrive in front of the Clutter’s farmhouse late one night, Smith makes a feeble, last-ditch effort to get Hickock to abandon the whole plot, to no avail.

Even when color was available, many film makers who knew the impact of black and white chose this medium for conveying just the right sensations. In Cold Blood was filmed in black and white, which adds to the powerful psychological effect. The cinematography is quite good, particularly during a scene in which Smith is standing by a window one rainy night, and recounting his falling-out with his father. The rain running down the window pane is reflected off of Smith’s face, giving the appearance of tears. Viewers know that he is not actually weeping, at least not outwardly, but this makes for a great visual. When he says about his father “I do hate him. And I love him,” it is hard not to feel at least a little sorry for Smith.

While viewers do not get to know a lot about them, the Clutters immediately come off as sympathetic, as neighbors that everyone would want. They are decent, hard-working honest folk, innocent victims who deserve much better than the brutal death that they receive. The film at first skips the actual break-in at their farmhouse and the subsequent murders, but comes back to the grim details later. The film makers demonstrate considerable restraint, however, eliciting adequate revulsion from shotgun blasts instead of gory close-ups.

Though this film has several levels, one of the most apparent is the condemnation of the death penalty. This, like all of the other messages in the movie, is conveyed with restraint, so as not to demonize the law nor glorify the killers. Whether viewers agree or disagree with capital punishment, they will be hard-pressed to ignore the impact of In Cold Blood.