Kiss of Death

Part of the post-war push to create more authentic motion pictures far from the typical Hollywood soundstage, 1947's Kiss of Death uses a bevy of impressive NYC interiors and exteriors to tell screenwriter Ben Hecht and Charles Lederer's tragic tale of Nick Bianco (Victor Mature), a hard-luck gangster who names names to keep his family from falling apart. But the film's most memorable figure is the larger-than-life Tommy Udo (Richard Widmark), an ambitious punk on the way up whose villainous giggle will be left ringing in your ears.

Directed in unassuming style by Henry Hathaway (not unlike the approach Hitchcock would take in The Wrong Man), Kiss of Death's reputation as a film has been overshadowed by Widmark's Oscar nominated performance...and deservedly so. A pair of suspenseful opening and closing scenes bookend what is otherwise a fairly plodding piece of work shot in a deliberate documentary style that's more dated that most newsreels of the day.

After taking the fall for a jewelry heist gone bad, Nick stubbornly accepts his judicial lumps, despite a generous offer from the assistant D.A. (Brian Donlevy) to reduce his sentence in exchange for information on his criminal cohorts. But when the news arrives from behind bars that his kids are now motherless orphans, Nick arranges for an early parole to take care of family business and do some undercover work. His first assignment just happens to be schmoozing Tommy Udo, the twitchy psychopath he shared a cell with in city jail. But snitching on Tommy means a death sentence not just for himself but his newly reformed family as well.

In the zone after nailing his portrayal of Doc Holliday in My Darling Clementine, star Victor Mature is equally sympathetic here, but able to switch gears into a convincing gangster on a dime. His tendency to downplay the role is a perfect match for Wismar’s gleefully cartoonish bad guy. Widmark might only get fourth billing on the poster, but his performance as Tommy Udo owns the movie; a crazy-eyed, killing machine who takes so much pleasure in his work even little old ladies in wheelchairs are fair game!

That aforementioned scene has become Kiss of Death's signature cinematic moment. But really anytime Widmark shows up the film gets a big boost of adrenaline. The rest of the supporting cast, including poor Coleen Gray whose dramatic swoons almost require medical attention, can only spin their wheels to try and keep pace. Just like the rest of us, when Tommy Udo enters a room, everyone's watching Widmark.

Twilight Time's 3000-copy limited edition Blu-ray is an essential piece of any serious film collection. Extras are limited to a pair of audio commentaries (one with TT regulars Julie Kirgo and Nick Redman, another with film historian James Ursini and Alain Silver), isolated music track and theatrical trailer. But, as Kirgo's liner notes point out, the excellent hi-def transfer immortalizes one those "lightning-in-a bottle" introductions that rarely strike twice.