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Directed by Jules Dassin I was immediately struck by how American this felt. Opening on the poker game, table and men wreathed in cigarette smoke, fedoras in place. Then further on the film noir, pulp crime elements that run throughout this tale of four men planning and executing the perfect heist of a jewellers.

All of this is evident when you learn the director was a blacklisted American, named a communist, who went to Europe to find work. Here he crafted a brutal, cynical and tense crime film that even today earns its reputation as one of the founding modern heist films.

The characters, as one would expect, are all flawed, fatalistic individuals. With this type of film it’s no spoiler to say that it was never going to work out well with the structure following a rise and fall approach. It’s the characteristics of most of them which become their undoing.

Sour of face and desperate, always deadly serious, Jean Servais plays Tony le Stéphanous with a smile reserved for friend Jo’s young son. He is hard bitten and out of prison punishing his former girlfriend for her unfaithfulness with gangster Grutter by beating her with a belt. Making her get undressed with the act off camera it loses none of its violence.
Youngest of the group and played as green to their criminal world, Carl Möhner, is Jo. Wanting the money for his family, especially his son, it’s the son himself who contributes to their later unravelling.
Filling out the crew are Mario, Robert Manuel, playful and enjoying the risk but faithful to the last and Italian playboy César, whose lustful appreciation of women is the catalyst for their fall. Note worthy also is that César is played by director Dassin.
Elsewhere the hoods are violent or dope fiends and the women are, barring Jo’s wife Louise, played by Janine Darcey, exotic and lustful. They are dancers and singers, playthings of the men.

A lot of this will be familiar to those watchers of crime films and noirs of the Hollywood period and to the relative French works but it’s the brutality and the meticulousness that stands out here. None more so in the famous heist itself. The run up is more playful, with them crafting a key, timing the run, observing the route, casing the jewellers. It’s playful music, all the characters excited. There’s initially no dialogue so we focus primarily on their actions and activities before the experiments with the alarm system which feeds into how the heist itself plays out.

This is then continued in the heist itself. The brilliant shot of the shadows thrown by the ascending elevator before the cut to silence beyond the noises they make, the slightest sound heightens the tension such as accidentally pressing a piano key, then a sock over a hammer. You’ve also the superb little touches like the small genius act of the umbrella through the roof to catch the falling debris from their excavation. We’re as tense as them with every cough and scrape ratcheting up the suspense.

Later as things fall apart the brutality continues. Especially a rescue turning to a discovery of a betrayal and the price the person must pay, a character pulling away, a gun fired. Post heist bodies fall meeting brutal ends and acts of desperation and selflessness mean paying a steep price.

A landmark film that’s both exciting and nerve wracking down to the brilliant direction and acting. Its influence has been felt through most heist flicks since and it’s easy to see why, but this remains the template.

Point Blank is an adaption of the first in a series of novels by Richard Stark, ‘The Hunter’, about a career criminal known only as Parker. Here Walker, as he is known in the film, is played with steely cold detachment by Lee Marvin. Having read some of the series of books and having seen Payback (‘99) and The Outfit (‘73), Marvin’s version of Parker is by far the closest facsimile of the book character.

Lee Marvin is excellent here. Having forged a career as a no nonsense tough guy with those granite features, silvery hair and sharp suits he exudes menace and erupts with violence given any opportunity. He also amuses with his constant hunt for his money, blinkers on, he is single minded in his pursuit. His deadpan confusion when being asked as to why he has created all this mayhem, “I want my money. I want my $93 grand”, or his test drive with an associate, bring a subtle violent humour. Any hint of emotion though exists only in the dreamlike flashbacks to his time with partner Lynne and friend Mal.

Director John Boorman could have gone the easy route, making a straight up crime film, but this is infected with a 1960s feel, a pop art infused film where events seem to move between the aforementioned crime genre and a dream like reality. None more 60s than when Walker visits the club with the loud singer and bright colours and imagery playing as he beats up two men. The films flashbacks are a case in point, the fun happy times that took place before the heist at Alcatraz where he is betrayed and left for dead by wife Lynne, and ‘friend’ Mal. from the start and occasionally throughout Walker remembers an idealised past. A happier time when he first meets Lynne, dark of hair and smiling or seeing Mal at the reunion. He feels like a different Walker, more alive, as all three go cavorting on joyful car rides or dive into oncoming waves. But making his escape and on the hunt for his money he becomes cold, ruthless, someone else.

At one point Chris, Lynnes sister, played by Angie Dickinson in bright oranges and yellows which counter the coldness of the opening, tells Walker he died at Alcatraz when admonishing his indifference. In the cell he questions, as he lies there dying, was it a dream, did it happen, this betrayal by wife and friend? Yet he somehow escapes by swimming from the island. From here you could read into the narrative a spiritual aspect. The character of Yost, played by Keenan Wynn, initially states he’s after the Organisation but appears only to Walker directing his revenge as though an avenging angel, guiding this restless spirit. Walker never directly kills anyone, rather he is the catalyst as deaths are either accidental, suicides or at the hands of others. You can’t get into heaven with blood on your hands.

He is the motivation for all this mayhem, and him imagining all this in the cell maybe why he looks so confused when confronted by Brewster: “You're a very bad man, Walker, a very destructive man! Why do you run around doing things like this?” But then it could just be a straight crime film with European sensibilities from John Boorman. Yet, as the final reveal of the man behind it all takes place at the end we witness Walker vanish into Alcatraz’s shadows, the film coming full circle at the place he was never supposed to leave.

Off the back of The Rewatchables podcast I thought I’d give this another spin. I grew up with it, catching it on TV when I could. It wasn’t until I saw it on Blu-ray did I realise how much had been cut. Chain smoking by all, the implied ghostly oral sex of Ray, and lines such as “Yes. It’s true. This man has no dick”. The SNL connection meant little to me as I was three the year this came out. I was in it for the ghosts, I had the action figures, the Ecto-1 car; this was very much a part of my childhood.

The film is very much an 80s classic. That theme tune that you can’t help sing along to, “who you gonna’ call? Ghostbusters!”, the as mentioned constant smoking by most, and the overall look and feel to proceedings. It’s enjoyable the balancing act between how tactile a lot of it is and how badly aged most of the effects are. You’ve the Proton Packs, their gobbledygook devices for capturing ghosts, the traps, the Psychokinetic Energy Meters rubbing shoulders with the effects such as Zuul and the lightbulb clearly in its mouth when it first appears in Dana’s fridge, yet you can’t help but chuckle. But some effects still impress regardless of how fake they look such as the initial library ghost or the undead taxi driver. All of this adds to the films charm and doesn’t detract.

The film never takes itself seriously. No one dies in this film, its humour is front and centre and it’s all the more entertaining for it. This is down to the cast and their great chemistry.

The first standout is Bill Murray excelling as sleazy and sarcastic Peter Venkman. Not once taking anything seriously regardless of the circumstances. Asking old librarians if they are menstruating is just the tip of the iceberg. Dan Aykroyd is excitable as Ray, and Harold Ramis is “I’m always serious” Egon. The main three are different enough for us to wonder why they are so joined at the hip. Peter obviously in it for money and fame, the others have an active interest. Then there’s Ernie Hudson as Winston, the straight man to the main cast. He’s under utilised and I would’ve like to see more. He initially is on the outside and whilst by the end he’s joyous at being a part of the team, his late arrival still means he feels very much on the periphery.

Elsewhere second standout is Rick Moranis as geeky Louis who is suitably pathetic and thanks to Moranis, hilarious. The highlight for me is when he’s possessed and hanging out with the team, mimicking their actions. Then there’s elegant statuesque Sigourney Weaver as Dana, pushing that PG rating when possessed by Zuul who is brilliant in her dual role even when suffering through insufferable Peter.

Flaws wise, well, the villain Gozer is pretty inconsequential when weighed up against her pets and the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. She doesn’t make much of an impression looking as she does like an 80s pop singer. Also, the reasoning behind her appearance and subsequent mayhem is a lot of waffle where I can never really remember the why, but then I don’t particularly care and I don’t think the cast or director Ivan Reitman do either.

An 80s classic that for me is even funnier now than it was back then and I think that’s come with age and appreciating the lunacy and the cast. But I’ve no time for most of the sequels. Now they are a reason to be afraid.