Reviewed by Colin Jacobson (January 24, 2024)
Sometimes I come across a movie I never heard of but become enticed to view it due to an alluring title. Into this category falls 1966’s Black Tight Killers.
When military photographer Daisuke Honda (Akira Kobayashi) meets flight attendant Yoriko Sawanouchi (Chieko Matsubara) on a trip into Tokyo, the pair connect and he asks her out on a date. However, along the way Yoriko ends up kidnapped by a squad of female assassins who utilize vinyl records as tools of their violent trade.
Honda investigates to rescue Yoriko. As this proceeds, he winds up embroiled in a conspiracy to loot a cache of WWII-era gold, one also tied to Yoriko’s disappearance.
Just based on the title, I went into Killers with the expectation I’d find a lurid thriller. Instead, I got something… different.
I figured out that Killers would defy my expectations during the opening credits. There we get a wild Swingin’ 60s tune accompanied by go-go dancing masked women.
In other words, Killers embraces the 1966-specific styles in vogue back then. While not completely indebted to this format, the movie nonetheless feels very much a product of its time.
Actually, I probably shouldn’t describe Killers as being so 1966-based, for it shows other influences as well. Parts of the movie offer a West Side Story vibe, and the film can go a bit Rat Pack as well.
Whatever the style, Killers offers an intriguing visual piece. Too bad it lacks a particularly coherent story to go along with these stylistic choices.
At its heart, Killers comes with a pretty simple plot. However, it persistently muddies the waters to become far less cohesive than it needs to be.
This doesn’t reflect the occasional dream/fantasy scenes we get. I don’t think those take the narrative off-track.
Instead, Killers just feels more preoccupied with gimmicks and stylistic choices than a strong story. I get the impression the filmmakers figure the flash and sparkle will become enough to carry the viewer.
And at times, these tactics do involve us. We get enough interesting oddness to carry the day.
For a while, at least, as Killers comes with too many peaks and valleys. For every delightfully warped scene we find, we get another that drags and feels unnecessary or too long.
I get the impression the filmmakers intend Killers as a spoof of the era’s spy flicks, but they fail to make these tone-related choices clear. Again, we discover a movie that alternates wacky cleverness with pedantic blandness.
As such, it becomes tough to tell if those involved with Killers want to deliver a spirited romp or a more serious crime story – or both, perhaps. The inconsistencies create an end product that doesn’t quite gel.
I must imagine Quentin Tarantino saw Killers, as it seems like something that would’ve influenced his first Kill Bill. Tarantino could probably direct a lively remake of Killers, but the original needs more spirit than the film ultimately provides.