The Killers is based off of a short story, written by Ernest Hemingway, that doesn’t contain any actual killing. Two hitmen stop at a diner looking for their target, he doesn’t show up, then they leave. Director Robert Siodmak takes the story several steps further - not only do the hitmen find their target and finish the job, the ensuing life insurance investigation reveals the dramatic series of events that led to the hit. 

The movie is fine, nothing too exciting. I absolutely adore seeing both Burt Lancaster and Ava Gardner on my screen, and I genuinely appreciate the creative work that expanded on Hemingway’s very simple premise. But for me, the short story thrives on the looming threat on someone’s life - adaptation kind of erases all of that, instead opting to turn the story into a whodunnit noir tale. The end result is a decent movie, but I think I would have enjoyed it more had the growing dread that comes with knowing that some serious shit is about to go down was kept intact.