I know film noirs are generally quite dark by nature, but this one's downright mean-spirited. Fritz Lang takes us to one of the many ugly corners of New York, and populates it with characters that are despicable, irksome, or pathetic (or some combination of the three), which results in one of those seedy little yarns where you're waiting for, and secretly kind of hoping for, everything to go south.
These bleaker elements consistently appealed to me (particularly in the final twenty minutes, which get deliciously psychological), but I do think they might've worked even better if the overall movie had a bit less congestion to it. At various points, especially in the second half, we're still being introduced to new subplots and characters, and they tend to detract more than they add, hurting the overall flow of the story for me.
But I suppose that kind of bizarre ambition is part of Lang's appeal, right? Like, all this mayhem going on fits pretty well with his heightened styles and tones, so he mostly gets away with it. Plus, it helps that Edward G. Robinson's here to ground everything with his naive, sad sack performance, where he generates just enough sympathy for the arc to sock you in the mouth four or five times.
Grade: B+