Too often, I hear from noir enthusiasts that all American movies were "childish" and "pure escapism" before WWII. I can only assume they aren't familiar with the pre-code era or films like I Am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang (1932) or they wouldn't be saying such bull.
This movie is hard-hitting, even now. Muni's character finds himself in an almost Kafka-esque situation, imprisoned by circumstance long before he's framed for a crime he did not commit.
Everything is stunning: the black-and-white photography lends a stark grittiness to the atmosphere and Muni's performance strikes one as quite modern-- not a moment of camp or melodrama in it. There's one moment toward the end, where he learns his pardon has been put on hold "indefinitely," that just broke my heart: the tears welling in his eyes, the way you can see a man's hopes being brutally killed before him-- oh man, Muni was a true genius!
I could not recommend this movie more. The ending alone makes most later noir look downright sunny.
This movie is hard-hitting, even now. Muni's character finds himself in an almost Kafka-esque situation, imprisoned by circumstance long before he's framed for a crime he did not commit.
Everything is stunning: the black-and-white photography lends a stark grittiness to the atmosphere and Muni's performance strikes one as quite modern-- not a moment of camp or melodrama in it. There's one moment toward the end, where he learns his pardon has been put on hold "indefinitely," that just broke my heart: the tears welling in his eyes, the way you can see a man's hopes being brutally killed before him-- oh man, Muni was a true genius!
I could not recommend this movie more. The ending alone makes most later noir look downright sunny.