Swift, brutal, and black-hearted, Allen Baron’s New York City noir Blast of Silence is a sensational surprise, a low-budget, carefully crafted portrait of a hit man on assignment in Manhattan during Christmastime.
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Although deeply inscribed in the ways of American independent B movies, being an accurate portrayal of New York in the 60s, this movie reminds me the existentialist formality of some of the most extraordinary examples of Japanese New Wave thrillers, such as the ones by Shinoda, Gosha or Teshigahara. The omniscient demiurgical narrator is also, in this case, a different character that by the sound becomes indelible.
After enjoying but not being thoroughly impressed with Blast of Silence initially, subsequent viewings did a hell of a lot more for me. It was like Sin City's neurotic, blue-collar deadbeat dad. A fast, nasty and quick watch that really impresses, especially when you stop & realize its 50 years old. One of my favorite Christmas movies and a shame that Baron never made another movie.
An American made film noir with European sensibility--the existential theme, rather than a entertaining narrative, is at the heart of the film. A film noir equivalent of *Carnival of Souls*. Given the low-budget and the lack of name filmmakers, these films are small miracles and that's one of the big reasons they warrant the criterion treatment.
One of the greatest independent films--set the stage for the new age of film noir and gangster films and heavily influenced Martin Scorsese (as can be seen in Mean Streets). Perfect movie to watch during the Christmas season when you're in a lonely place.
Offbeat B-movie film noir plays more like a European art film than a Hollywood crime drama, especially with its nihilistic ending. Strong performances and authentic, gritty big city atmosphere - though the atmosphere was somewhat more compelling than the actual plot. Very effective jazz score.
Allen Baron succeeds in creating an atmosphere. Maybe it´s this music, or maybe it´s New York, this nostalgic New York feeling. But in France in the 1960s, Melville or Bresson (and of course Duras) would have made the film without the voice over. To make it dryer, to fill it with silences and habits of the killer. Still it is worth better than the B mention. Beautiful last sequence.