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When we think about Stanley Kubrick, we usually think about 2001: A Space Odyssey, or Dr. Strangelove, or even A Clockwork Orange. That is if we think of him at all, because we now live in a world where things that happened over 90 days ago don’t really register. But if you’re like me and still clinging to the Old Ways, you’re probably aware that they’ve been making movies since at least 1956. Back then they made films in black and white, with monophonic sound and as far as I have been able to determine, almost no computer generated imagery.

CInema at the time was replete with low budget war pictures, B-grade monster flicks and more casual racism than you can shake the Emancipation Proclamation at. There were still great directors around, though, as there always are. But they weren’t all named Hitchcock, Bergman or Fellini. An angry (and probably hairy) twenty-something called Stanley Kubrick was making waves in what passed for the independent film world of the time, and some say it was The Killing that first put him on the map.

It is a dark, methodical study of a heist gone wrong. It boasts sophisticated camera work, sharp dialog and uncompromising themes that would go on to influence or inspire a great many people in Hollywood, from Kirk Douglas to Quentin Tarantino. It’s just an 85 minute movie about a bunch of guys robbing a racetrack, which certainly doesn’t sound like much. But it’s one of those films that you can only watch, over a half century later, with wonder and admiration.

With The Killing, Kubrick takes what should be an utterly ordinary cops and robbers flick and turns it into one of the more ingenious films of the late fifties. Based on the novel Clean Break by Lionel White (don’t worry, I haven’t read it either), this is primarily the story of Johnny Clay (Sterling Hayden), a career criminal fresh off a stint in prison for (wait for it) robbery. His devoted girlfriend Fay (Coleen Gray) has not only waited for him, but is completely unfazed by his plans to immediately carry out a daring daylight raid on a racetrack.

Because of the age we live in it seems obligatory to pause here and point out that no, The Killing absolutely does not pass the Bechdel test. If you are the sort of person who can’t overlook the outdated social norms of old movies, maybe skip this one. For the rest of you, rest assured that Fay is not really a woman. She’s a guy’s idea of a woman that would want to be with a guy like Johnny. She believes everything he says, and feels guilty for having been free while he was imprisoned.

She’s a wisp of a person who, by her own admission, doesn’t think she’s smart or pretty enough to find any other man. Ugh.

It’s excruciating to watch but sadly, women like Fay really do exist. Every truly scary guy I’ve ever met has a girl just like her waiting at home. I don’t know how they do it, but I’m definitely not willing to rob a bank to find out. You feel especially sad for Fay because Johnny is clearly the kind of guy who’s never going to stop stealing things. He’s as addicted to the act as he is to the reward. He puts on a great show of being a competent tactician but just like Hans Gruber, he’s nothing but a common thief.

How do we know this? Because to pull off this job, he’s going to need help from a bunch of other common thieves. Let’s call roll.

Kennan (Ted de Corsia) is a dirty cop who likes to gamble and thus owes the mob a lot of money. He’s got two weeks to come up with three grand, or La Cosa Nostra starts breaking parts of him off, from small to big. O’Reilly (Joe Sawyer) is the track bartender, who happens to have a sick wife at home. He dotes over the poor woman and makes her breakfast in bed every day. He seems like a decent guy who’s just had a run of bad luck. And then there’s George (Elisha Cook). He’s a gentle romantic type and is married to a frigid bombshell named Sherry (Marie Windsor), who treats him like the spineless jellyfish he is.

Although she is pretty terrible to him, it’s equally hard to abide the way he just absorbs it.

It’s hard to pity them their shared purgatory but don’t worry, it gets worse. Sherry is getting it on the side with a bigger, stronger, much more handsome man than George. Do I have to tell you what happens when George stupidly tells Sherry about the robbery in an attempt to impress her?

Yeah...things get pretty complicated.

This bulk of the story is taken up with planning the crime, George’s loose lips, and the short-term impact on everyone’s life. Believe it or not, using various modes of exposition, there’s enough time to build most of these characters at least to the degree that you can identify with them. It’s a common trope in art and life that one sufficiently charismatic person can make a bonkers plan like this sound perfectly reasonable to a roomful of desperate, weak or greedy individuals.

I won’t spoil the details of the robbery for you, but it’s the kind of thing that requires not quite Ocean’s Eleven levels of crackerjack timing (Maybe closer to Ocean’s Five or Six). And obviously, things don’t go as planned. But that's not what makes The Killing so enthralling. It’s the fact that so much content and characterization gets crammed into so small a space, all through the mystic art of superior filmmaking. The Killing is known for its innovative, non-linear construction and while it confused contemporary audiences, seasoned eyes will find it hard to look away.

Famed novelist Jim Thompson wrote the actual dialogue for The Killing, while Kubrick crafted the screenplay and handled duties behind the camera. But Kubrick’s perfectionist prints are all over the film, to the point that it almost has a detectable personality. There’s no profanity, of course, but there’s such visual grit to what you see and such a sharp edge to what you hear that there doesn’t need to be.

Despite its film noir biology (there’s even a voiceover), you won’t find an ounce of camp or irony in The Killing. Nobody’s using that silly Mid-Atlantic accent. There are no underwhelming car chases against projected backgrounds. And the one significant shootout is so sudden and brutal that you hardly have time to register shock at what’s happened before the next tragedy unfolds.

And everywhere you look, actors are emoting and gesturing and adding little dramatic flourishes to their performance that can only be the result of Kubrick being the bastard he was (Hayden is especially dominating). But don’t think The Killing is entirely without a sense of humor. At one point, Kennan takes a moment to kibitz by phone with his desk sergeant, a nervous father to be.

As Keenan hangs up he says: “You’ll be fine, the sixth one’s the hardest.”

I don’t know why, but that was hilarious. And did I say there was no irony? The last shot in the movie makes a damn liar out of me. But the truth remains; this lesser known work of Kubrick’s is no less a masterwork than the rest of his catalogue.