Fritz Lang’s Hollywood debut begins a trilogy of crime melodramas about the insecure working poor in the depression. They all star Sylvia Sidney as an intelligent woman in love with a blue-collar striver haunted by misfortune. Here the fiancé is Spencer Tracy, the owner of a gas station who is chased down by a lynch mob for a crime he didn’t commit.
When he makes a fortuitous escape, he lays low while the guilty are tried for murder. The schematic plot takes up most of the short running time, so regrettably the performances are secondary. But the stars are compelling, and Sidney is, as usual, a heartbreaker. She only wants a home and a husband with a job. But fate is unforgiving.
So this is social protest aimed at the still common practice of lynching in the US. Hell, this is only a generation away from the wild west. Lang gives it a pre-noir look with the shadows and funky camera angles, and there are some amazing extreme closeups. Despite the realism, there is his usual impression of visual poetry…
And the agony of the ordinary person caught in the grip of malign destiny. Lang fled Nazi Germany in ’33 and it’s really tempting to suppose that this reflection on mob hysteria is carried over from his Berlin period. The ending is weak, due to interference from MGM and the meaning gets lost, yet this is still an impressive start to the director’s second act.