Perhaps what struck me the most about Killer's Kiss was the anti-hero qualities of it's protagonist, Davey Gordon. Despite the many obvious influences and traces of Noir to be found in the film, Davey (played by Jamie Smith) does not carry the same virility so often associated with stars like Humphrey Bogart in The Maltese Falcon or Fred MacMurray in Double Indemnity. His impotence is demonstrated when he loses in a televised fight in one of the first few scenes. From the very outset, Davey's inadequacies are displayed for all of New York City and beyond to see. Of course this is not unusual for Kubrick, who usually does not limit himself to the narrative or visual parameters of any one genre, instead choosing to subvert them and make them his own.
The initial boxing ring loss sets a precedent for the portrayal of Davey's masculinity throughout the film. In a later sequence, when Davey and his love interest Gloria return to the dance hall where she works, Davey's scarf is stolen by a street performer while he waits for her outside. He gives chase to the hooligans but Kubrick never allows us to see him catch them or retrieve the scarf. The action feels sort of pathetic, as if Davey is an easy target for this sort of taunting. Meanwhile, inside the dance hall, another interesting display of stifled masculinity is shown. All of the men dancing with the paid girls wear nearly identical business suits, except for one. This figure stands out because he dons a military uniform. The military garb is meant to indicate that he is a member of the hypermasculine institution, and as such, is probably an idealistically masculine man. However, the brief sequence shows the soldier being peeled off of one of the dancers and thrown out of the dance hall. I couldn't help but feel that this was another instance of the traditional notion of masculinity in a sort of crisis.
Additionally, these moments come right on the heels of Kubrick's first feature film, Fear and Desire, which definitely explores similar themes. Most of the characters we see in Fear and Desire are soldiers and by the end, we see the youngest one crack under the pressures of what seems to be shell-shock. Of the later Kubrick films I have seen, Lolita is one that comes to mind also. The sophisticated character of Humbert becomes a slave to his desire for Lolita and by the end is somewhat conned by her. Though a claim that Kubrick chooses to render masculinity in crisis might be too strong, no one can argue that his varied and strange portrayals of masculinity are not worth examining as one of his oft-explored themes.
