Tomb

Well, crap. It's deadline time again, I'm completely stuck for a topic and the only movies I can even bring to mind at the moment are Blood Simple (1984) and Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai (1999), having just watched both of them back-to-back. I guess my only option is to compare both films’ murderous badasses.

Here's a quick overview before we begin. Blood Simple is a tense neo-noir crime film about a vengeful husband (Dan Hedaya) who hires a corrupt private eye (M. Emmet Walsh) to kill his wayward wife and her lover. It's the first film from the Coen brothers, and it is absolutely brilliant. If you haven't seen it, put down this paper right now and watch it. Then watch it again.

Ghost Dog is a thoughtful and compelling character study of a mob assassin (Forest Whitaker) who considers himself to be a modern samurai. Watch this one, too; it's terrific. For those of you who haven't seen these films, be warned that the rest of this column is loaded with spoilers.

Enough stalling; let's meet our competitors! In this corner, wearing the indigo hoodie with the samurai symbol on the back, we have Forest Whitaker as Ghost Dog (yep, that's his name), a stoic, honour-bound mafia hitman. In the other corner, wearing the hideous yellow polyester suit and cowboy hat, we have M. Emmet Walsh as oily, treacherous private investigator cum assassin Loren Visser. Let's see how they measure up!

• Code of conduct: Whitaker observes bushido, the ancient Japanese code of battle and he takes this stuff seriously. The film is interspersed with little nuggets of samurai wisdom narrated by Whitaker and the closest he ever comes to breaking his code is shooting his own employer. Mind you, he only does that after the guy orders him to and it's a nonfatal shoulder wound, which Whitaker promptly apologizes for, explaining that the injury will help the guy get out of trouble with his bosses. (He's right.)

Walsh, on the other hand, plays by no rules whatsoever. When he shoots his employer, it's with lethal intent. He's also a voyeur, a bigot and a thief. But hey, at least he has a sense of humour.

• Marksmanship: Whitaker's Ghost Dog is a virtuoso with a silenced pistol. He can produce a second handgun in an instant when needed, and then holster it with a flourish, like a ninja re-sheathing a blade. The only people who get in his sights and survive are the ones he intentionally allows to live. Sniping isn't his forte, though, as he loses sight of his target when a bird perches on the barrel of his rifle.

It's the other way around for Walsh's character. Visser is lethal with a rifle, but is less successful up close. His first victim goes down from a single pistol shot, but harrowingly turns out not to be dead. The only other time Walsh uses a pistol is to uselessly blast holes in a wall, trying to hit Frances McDormand after she pins his hand to a windowsill with a knife. (I think we can forgive the poor marksmanship under the circumstances!)

• Method of contact: Whitaker communicates with his retainer via carrier pigeon, a technique the mob finds maddeningly out-of-date, but which covers Ghost Dog's tracks nicely when the inevitable double-cross occurs and he winds up on the run. On the other hand, his roof is covered with pigeon crap.

Walsh settles for meeting his employer in his car near a lake. As a side benefit, a wandering girl sees him rolling a cigarette, thinks it's pot and chats him up. Face-to-face contact with his client also allows for this priceless exchange:

“I've got a job for you.”

“Well, if the pay's right and it's legal, I'll do it.”

“...It's not strictly legal.”

(pause)

“Well if the pay's right, I'll do it.”

• Transportation: Whitaker's got a nifty little electronic device that lets him instantly jack cars as if by magic. He just steals whatever wheels are handy, including a gorgeous red Jaguar convertible. Walsh, on the other hand, makes do with his patchy, unpainted Volkswagen Beetle.

• Body count: Both Walsh and Whitaker attempt to wipe out most of the supporting cast. Whitaker is better at it and has a bigger cast to play with. He winds up killing the entire mafia. Sweet Jesus!

• Death scene: Walsh frees himself by yanking a knife out of the back of his hand just like King Arthur pulling Excalibur from the stone. Then he advances on a quivering Frances McDormand, who's huddled in the dark with a pistol that might not even be loaded. Tension builds until... BANG! Walsh goes down and his last words include a derisive guffaw over finding out that the heroine didn't even know the actual plot of the movie. Haw-Haw! Death.

As for Whitaker, he spends his final seconds giving a book to his murderer and asking him to read it. It's not even a piece of evidence, or a taunting message, or anything — it's just a good book that he liked and wanted to recommend. Uh... thanks, Ghost Dog? (Eww, there's blood on it!)

• Conclusion: I'm really not sure what all of this proves, other than the fact that if Ghost Dog ever fought Private Detective Visser, it would be awesome and I would watch that movie nine times. Oh, and Whitaker would kill Walsh. Probably.