With one foot planted firmly in the Kiss Me Deadly era of film noir and the other closer to The Killing of a Chinese Bookie, writer-director Allen Baron’s Blast of Silence begins with a brutal, uncompromising invocation of birth and ends with an almost mystically sensitive death. The story of socially isolated hit man Frankie (Baron) who comes to terms with his deferred need for human connection just in time for, one, Christmas and, two, a job that will require him to be especially cold-hearted, Blast of Silence is less a manifestation of the labyrinthine plot trajectories of great noir than an early harbinger of the DIY moxie of the American independent movement.

Baron’s blunt, almost perfunctory story doesn’t reveal much about the inner workings of its central character, instead taking advantage of the downright dull aspects of New York City, a city that films (especially noir...