POINT BLANK (1967) ![]()
Dir. John Boorman
Starring: Lee Marvin – John Vernon – Angie Dickinson – Keenan Wynn

There’s a scene in John Boorman’s “Point Blank” where Walker (Lee Marvin) is making love with his sister in-law Chris (Angie Dickenson) and while they roll over in bed, they become different people. Chris changes into her sister, Walker’s wife Lynne (Sharon Acker), then Walker changes into his once good friend Mal Reese (John Vernon), the same man that stole Walker’s wife, shot him and left for dead. It’s a somewhat clumsy cinematic moment (the film is mostly flawless) but an obvious metaphor that Boorman makes about his story and main character.
A buddy of mine wrote a hilarious post about jumper cables; how he didn’t know how to use them, and that he was afraid of being asked to. The reason being that not being able to use jumper cables exposes his shortcomings as a man. I have the same problem with parallel parking. But anyway. The traditional test of a man’s “manhood” is the ability to sexually please or dominate his lover. As tough as Lee Marvin is, in “Point Blank” he plays the chump, the cuckold, the man who was unable to sexually please his woman, and as a result, had her stolen away by another man.
When Walker tracks his wife down he doesn’t shoot her, instead he busts into her bedroom and empties his .38 into her bed, making the assumption that Reese is in it, the man that destroyed his life. But Reese isn’t there. If Reese was killed, then there’s a good chance Walker wouldn’t see a dime of his money. But to Walker, retrieving the money isn’t the important thing, killing Reese is.

The scene that follows is Walker’s wife explaining how her part in the betrayal took place. She doesn’t explain exactly why she “drifted” towards Reese, only that she did. And in the end she says: “I just couldn’t make it with you Walker”. “Making it” with someone is also known as “fucking” someone. Walker didn’t get his wife off sexually the way Reese did.

In one of the films many fight scenes, Walker takes on three thugs in a nightclub, pounding one of them in the balls. For ’67, a shocking cinematic moment, but it’s the same instinct Walker had when he shot up his wife’s bed, hoping to kill Reese. Here he’s projecting what he’ll do to his old friend when he catches up to him. He wants to castrate him, with his bare hands if he has to.
Once Walker finally tracks down Reese, he finds him completely naked and exposed and at his mercy. In a strange exchange of dialogue, Walker demands to know who has his money, and Reese in his shock and fear, tells Walker to “Kill me”. He repeats this between naming names. “Fairfax. Kill me. Brewster. Kill me”. He may as well be saying “Fuck me”. In the end Walker doesn’t have to do anything, as Reese clumsily plummets off his apartment balcony.

Walker continues to track down his money, to track down the “Organization”, but the true meaning of his quest has been fulfilled: the death of Reese and reclaiming his identity. Indeed, when the money actually comes his way, it has no significant to Walker anymore.
There have been many theories on the true nature of Walker’s POV in “Point Blank”; that he’s actually dead, that he’s a ghost, and that the betrayal of his wife and friend are not significant to a dead man. But the sexually charged ritual between Walker, Lynne and Reese is examined and explored by Boorman just as much as Walker’s violent quest for his money, or his existance, and seems to be as much the center of Walker’s motivation for his violent acts as any other.
Nick Schager at Slant Magazine writes a great review of “Point Blank” and gets into some of the sexual imagery that Boorman plays with. Cinebeats also has an interesting take and some historical insight into Lee Marvin’s motivation with the character. Analysis aside, “Point Blank” is a must see, a pivitol film in the noir genre.


