The thirty-fifth anniversary of a film you may not have heard of is October 23rd. Rick King’s The Killing Time from 1987 is hindered by some shaky scripting and its insistence on presenting Beau Bridges sex scenes, but its solid premise and Noir-ish atmosphere make it entirely watchable. I’d never heard of the film before Scorpion Releasing announced they were putting out a blu ray back in 2020. I love me some ‘80s Kiefer Sutherland, and since I felt the hook had promise I went ahead and blind-bought it.
The film begins with a stranger (Sutherland, enjoying the villainous role almost too much) executing a man named Brian Mars in the desert. We soon learn that the stranger intends to assume Mars’ identity as the new deputy for a sleepy coastal California town’s sheriff’s department. His motivations are unknown. Meanwhile, in town, Sheriff Carl Cunningham (fan favorite Joe Don Baker) is counting the days down until his retirement. His successor and longtime friend, Sam Wayburn (Bridges, doing his best to smolder) is not so secretly carrying on an affair with Laura Winslow (Camelia Kath, who would go on to be the first Mrs. Sutherland after meeting him in this film), the wife of wealthy asshole real estate developer, Jake Winslow (Wayne Rogers of MASH fame).
After a fight where Jake rapes Laura, Sam agrees to help Laura kill her husband. They plan to pin it on the new deputy, but they are unaware that “Brian” is not the naïve mild-mannered kid they think he is. When the tables are turned on the lovers, a deadly game of cat and mouse is instigated and Sheriff Cunningham decides to stick around, not willing to leave on the occasion of the town’s worst crime in decades.
So fun concept, right? The problem is that Don Bohlinger, James Nathan, and Bruce Franklin Singer’s script is more than a little wobbly. The dialog, in particular, is noticeably melodramatic and the reveal of the stranger’s backstory is a little on the nose. The pacing isn’t as taut as I wanted, especially considering the relatively brief runtime of 94 minutes. The slightly wooden Kath also has a hard time keeping up with her more seasoned costars, while everybody else except Baker teeters on the edge of hamminess. Bridges and Kath’s multiple sex scenes are unintentionally funny, though that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Paul Chihara’s score also dives headlong into cheesiness, emphasizing hilariously bad ‘80s sax in an effort to recall classic Noir flicks. When the composer switches to a more electronic-sounding approach for the film’s climax, it meshes better with the tone, however.
Despite these not-insignificant issues, there’s still a lot of fun to be had. The actors do mug a bit, but they lend some undiluted fun to the proceedings. King successfully achieves a Noir tone, even if I’d hesitate to call the effort a Neo-Noir. The location shooting brings some authentic texture to the piece, making the story feel like it could be based on the hushed gossiping of Anytown, USA. Nobody gives their best performance here, but there’s definitely polished chemistry to the ensemble. The narrative may lag in spots, but there are some genuine thrills to be found in the material as it coalesces around its conceit and its characters.
While not everything comes together in Rick King’s The Killing Time, I still enjoy the film. Considering it is nearly forgotten (it did a dismal $500K at the box office), its pleasing small-town Noir vibe, and its solid collection of performers, I think it’s a bit of a flawed hidden gem. Recommended, with caveats, for fans of One False Move, Blood Simple, and A Simple Plan.
Michael Cavender