If you want to see the exact moment the 1960s lost its innocence, stop looking at history books and watch the first five minutes of The Killers Lee Marvin version from 1964. It’s mean. It’s sleek. Honestly, it’s one of the most cold-blooded openings in the history of cinema.
Two guys in matching sharkskin suits walk into a school for the blind. They aren't there to donate. They’re there to kill a teacher named Johnny North. They slap around a blind secretary—which was unheard of for 1964 television standards—and then they find their man. But here's the kicker: Johnny North doesn't run. He just stands there, looking out the window, and takes a hail of bullets.
This sends Charlie Strom, played by the legendary Lee Marvin, into a total tailspin. He’s a professional. He’s used to people screaming, begging, or at least trying to hop a fence. The fact that a man just accepted death bothers him. It feels like he’s missing a piece of a puzzle, specifically a puzzle involving a million dollars.
The Killers Lee Marvin and the Birth of the "Business" Hitman
Most people think of hitmen in movies as these shadowy, mysterious figures. In the original 1946 version of The Killers, that’s pretty much what they were. But Don Siegel, the director who would later give us Dirty Harry, had a different idea for the 1964 remake. He wanted them to look like middle managers.
Lee Marvin plays Charlie as a guy who is basically just trying to get through his workday. He wears a crisp suit. He has a tie. He looks like he could be selling insurance or used cars. But then he opens his mouth, and that gravelly, terrifying voice comes out.
"I'm sorry lady, we don't have the time."
That line is iconic. He says it to the blind receptionist before he attacks her, and he says it again later. It's the ultimate "just doing my job" mantra. Marvin didn't need to yell to be scary. He just stood there with those silver-gray eyes and let his presence do the heavy lifting. His partner, Lee (played by Clu Gulager), is the polar opposite. He’s the "new generation"—fidgety, doing push-ups in the hotel room, sniffing flowers while Marvin is trying to interrogate someone.
It’s a classic dynamic. The old lion and the young pup. But in this movie, the lions are both predators.
Why was it too violent for TV?
The crazy thing is that The Killers Lee Marvin was actually supposed to be the first "made-for-TV" movie. NBC commissioned it. Then they saw the finished product.
They freaked out.
Keep in mind, this was 1963 and 1964. President John F. Kennedy had just been assassinated in Dallas. The country was on edge. Here comes a movie where two hitmen systematically hunt down a man and execute him in cold blood, followed by scenes of brutal physical violence against women. NBC took one look at Lee Marvin's cold-blooded performance and said, "No way."
Universal ended up releasing it in theaters instead. It’s lucky they did, because the theatrical release allowed it to become a cult classic. On a small screen, you would have missed the "Dutch angles" Siegel used to make the world feel tilted and wrong. You would have missed the vibrant, almost garish colors that make the violence feel even more shocking.
Ronald Reagan: The Villain Nobody Expected
You can't talk about this movie without talking about the guy who would eventually become the 40th President of the United States.
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This was Ronald Reagan’s last movie. And get this: it’s the only time he ever played a villain.
He plays Jack Browning, a wealthy "businessman" who is actually a ruthless mob boss. He’s the guy who stole Johnny North’s girl and his money. There’s a scene where Reagan slaps Angie Dickinson across the face. Reportedly, Reagan hated doing it. He was worried it would ruin his image. According to Kirk Douglas's autobiography, Reagan actually regretted taking the role later on.
But honestly? He’s great in it. He plays the "heavy" with this sort of smug, untouchable confidence that makes you want to see Lee Marvin kick his door down. Seeing the future president playing a sleazy gangster who hides behind a suit is a surreal experience for anyone watching it today.
The Contrast Between 1946 and 1964
While both movies are based on the Ernest Hemingway short story, they are completely different beasts.
- The 1946 Version: Very "Film Noir." Lots of shadows, black and white, and it focuses on an insurance investigator trying to find out what happened.
- The 1964 Version: "Neo-Noir." It’s in bright, popping Technicolor. Instead of an outsider investigating, the killers themselves are the ones asking the questions.
This shift is what makes the 1964 film so influential. It turned the killers into the protagonists. Without The Killers Lee Marvin performance, we might not have movies like Pulp Fiction or Reservoir Dogs. Quentin Tarantino has basically admitted that the look of the hitmen in Reservoir Dogs—the black suits, the cool detachment—is a direct nod to Marvin and Gulager in this film.
Behind the Scenes Chaos
The production wasn't exactly a walk in the park. Lee Marvin was a notorious drinker, and it reportedly caused some issues on set.
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Don Siegel had to pull him aside at one point because Marvin was showing up "loaded." Siegel basically told him he was ruining the movie. To Marvin's credit, he respected Siegel enough to clean up his act for the rest of the shoot. Well, mostly. There’s a story that during the final scene—where Marvin is stumbling away, mortally wounded—he actually was a bit drunk. If you watch that scene, he looks incredibly convincing as a man who can barely stay on his feet.
Then there’s the Angie Dickinson factor. She was at the height of her "femme fatale" powers here. During filming, she actually received the news that JFK had been shot. The mood on set turned incredibly somber, which fits the cynical, dark tone of the movie perfectly.
What most people get wrong about Johnny North
People often think John Cassavetes, who played the victim Johnny North, was just a "racing driver" character. But if you look closer, he represents the "lost man" of the 60s. He’s a guy who had everything, lost it because of a woman (Sheila Farr), and then just gave up.
His "passivity" is the heart of the movie. It’s what drives Charlie (Marvin) crazy. Charlie can’t understand how someone can just stop caring about living. It’s an existential crisis wrapped in a crime thriller.
Actionable Insights for Movie Buffs
If you’re going to watch The Killers Lee Marvin version for the first time, or if you’re planning a re-watch, here’s how to get the most out of it:
- Watch for the "Suit" Symbolism: Notice how Lee Marvin’s suit stays perfectly pressed almost until the very end. It represents his "professionalism" even as his world is falling apart.
- Compare the Soundtrack: The music was originally composed by Henry Mancini for Touch of Evil and was re-edited for this film. It has a jazzy, nervous energy that matches the 1960s vibe.
- Check the Car Scenes: They used the Riverside International Raceway. Even though the "rear projection" (the fake background while they're driving) looks a bit dated now, the actual racing footage is pretty intense.
- Listen to the Dialogue: Gene L. Coon wrote the screenplay. He was the guy who co-created Star Trek's Khan and the Prime Directive. You can hear that sharp, witty banter throughout the film.
The movie ends exactly how a noir should. No happy endings. No moral lessons. Just a pile of money, a few dead bodies, and the realization that in this world, nobody has the time.
If you want to understand the transition from the "Old Hollywood" of the 40s to the "New Hollywood" of the 70s, this is the bridge. It’s brutal, it’s stylish, and it’s Lee Marvin at the absolute top of his game.
To dig deeper into the world of 1960s crime cinema, start by comparing this version to the 1946 Burt Lancaster original. You’ll see two completely different Americas through the lens of the same story. From there, look into Don Siegel's later work with Clint Eastwood to see how the "tough guy" archetype Marvin perfected here eventually evolved into Dirty Harry.