His Kind of Woman

A gambler (Robert Mitchum) coerced into visiting a Mexican resort, meets a singer (Jane Russell), an actor (Vincent Price), and a gangster (Raymond Burr).

His Kind of Woman is a movie that grows on you. It starts out as a straight, low-key film noir, but gradually gets more and more over the top as the film goes on until, by the end, it’s almost absurd. Still, it works, mainly due to the great dialog and performances.

Originally directed by John Farrow, much of the movie was re-shot by Richard Fleischer, which probably accounts for the difference in tone between the beginning and end of the film. However, this is certainly one of those “happy accidents”, as neither the somber film-noir it starts out as, nor the absurd over-the-top action one it ends up as, would have been very remarkable, but together they make a truly unique film.

The only real problem is the length. At just over two hours, the movie runs a bit long, especially the third act. While Vincent Price’s scenes are great (His flamboyant performance showcases a gift for comedy rarely seen in an actor best remembered for his horror films), much of Mitchum’s seem like just an excuse to film him without his shirt.