Falls into that rarefied early-'50s cycle of noir, which benefited from B directors who had learned how to quickly dispense with the genre conventions and deliver brutal action and lurid innuendos.

Phil Karlson's rote heist-revenge flick aims to be stone cold, but can't seem to get any frost to grow around its warm, mushy heart.

A down and dirty film noir with all the requisite blood, sweat, and double-crosses.

In this film, cinema is unimportant. Everything happens to the right, the left, or below the screen, and always out of our line of vision.