What a great "character" shot when crippled Joe (Ryan) tries to cross the parade line, is turned back, only to limp obsessively across a moment later. Makes no difference to him that it's a patriotic parade. He's in his own world of revenge and by golly nothing's going to stop his mission. This one clever scene tells us more about Joe than a hundred lines of expository dialog.
It's aces all around for this front-rank noir. But I especially like the sneaky screenplay. Frank (Heflin) doesn't interrupt patriotic parades; instead, as ex-air force captain, he speaks at them. Plus, he's a friendly guy with a great young wife (Leigh) and toddler kid, a nice suburban home, and a growing business. Yes indeed, Frank is clearly Mr. America returned home successfully from the war. So why does the obsessed Joe want to kill Mr. America. That limp seems to point to a moral defect as well as a physical one, while he's got all the personality of a coiled rattler.
As a result, we have certain expectations about who these two guys are and how they will act as the suspense builds. But surprisingly, as events unfold, the screenplay peels back appearances with enough nuance that we may not be aware of the reversal until the end. And in the process, the movie produces one of the more subtly iconoclastic dramas of the noir period.
The casting here is flawless. It's Ryan at his darkest and most relentless, and Heflin at his plainest and low-key best. But I especially like the three women—Leigh, Thaxter, and Astor. Their parts are easily overlooked amidst the male-driven suspense, but each performs expertly in demanding roles. And unusual for noir, each tries to perform a healing role for her wounded man, though Pat's (Astor) methods are borrowed from the dark side. At the same time, throw in two icons from noir—the slippery Taylor Holmes (the shady lawyer) and the slimy Barry Kroeger (the hit-man), and you've got an all-star cast of characters.
My only reservation is with the last ten minutes. The depot and runaway car sequence was obviously staged to entertain the eye and not necessarily to be believed. I'm all for artistic license and the sequence is beautifully photographed-- it just strikes me as stagier and more artificial than it should be. Nonetheless, this is one of the more surprising and unusual noirs from the classic postwar period, and certainly merits a look-see.
It's aces all around for this front-rank noir. But I especially like the sneaky screenplay. Frank (Heflin) doesn't interrupt patriotic parades; instead, as ex-air force captain, he speaks at them. Plus, he's a friendly guy with a great young wife (Leigh) and toddler kid, a nice suburban home, and a growing business. Yes indeed, Frank is clearly Mr. America returned home successfully from the war. So why does the obsessed Joe want to kill Mr. America. That limp seems to point to a moral defect as well as a physical one, while he's got all the personality of a coiled rattler.
As a result, we have certain expectations about who these two guys are and how they will act as the suspense builds. But surprisingly, as events unfold, the screenplay peels back appearances with enough nuance that we may not be aware of the reversal until the end. And in the process, the movie produces one of the more subtly iconoclastic dramas of the noir period.
The casting here is flawless. It's Ryan at his darkest and most relentless, and Heflin at his plainest and low-key best. But I especially like the three women—Leigh, Thaxter, and Astor. Their parts are easily overlooked amidst the male-driven suspense, but each performs expertly in demanding roles. And unusual for noir, each tries to perform a healing role for her wounded man, though Pat's (Astor) methods are borrowed from the dark side. At the same time, throw in two icons from noir—the slippery Taylor Holmes (the shady lawyer) and the slimy Barry Kroeger (the hit-man), and you've got an all-star cast of characters.
My only reservation is with the last ten minutes. The depot and runaway car sequence was obviously staged to entertain the eye and not necessarily to be believed. I'm all for artistic license and the sequence is beautifully photographed-- it just strikes me as stagier and more artificial than it should be. Nonetheless, this is one of the more surprising and unusual noirs from the classic postwar period, and certainly merits a look-see.