But for a pivotal rôle by barfly Gloria Grahame and a brief appearance by Jacqueline White, here is a film in which men, including Robert Mitchum, are to the fore in all their post-war bigotry and vulnerability.
It opens, noir-fashion, with a killing in the shadows of a room. Only after a while does it emerge that this was driven by anti-semitism. For some time, as attention switches between a group of servicemen, the plot is convoluted until pipe-smoking detective Robert Young's efforts engage sufficiently with the others' for the hulking Robert Ryan to give himself away.
Without a conventional narrative (it also includes flashbacks, some of which require the camera to mimic a drunken haze), this is a film to enjoy more for its parts than its resolution - and, in a narrow timeframe, what brilliant parts these are. That said, a remake could take an interesting angle upon The Brick Foxhole, the now-elusive novel by Richard Brooks upon which it was based. In that novel, Brooks (who became a film writer and director) made the murder turn upon homosexuality, a bold stroke then forbidden upon screen. Eight decades on, this could yet be the stuff of a period drama.
Pessimistic social realism about a bigoted soldier who kills a Jewish civilian. Robert Young plays a detective who investigates a group of suspects recently demobbed after World War II, including Robert Ryan as an intimidating redneck and the more reflective, gentle Robert Mitchum.
Edward Dmytryk gives the long boozy night an expressionist look; often out of focus, with tilted frames and camera shake. He creates a powerful impression of alcohol induced hysteria and disorientation. The interiors are opened up by the director's constantly searching camera which induces a feeling of restlessness.
The trauma of the war is a recurring theme of forties film noir, but it is often implied. Here the issue is confronted directly, particularly in a long pacifist speech by the civilian who will be murdered. The soldiers are home, but they are still fighting, looking for a new enemy to hate.
As Mitchum's sergeant says: 'The snakes are loose. Anybody can get them. I get 'em myself, but they're friends of mine.' Taylor delivers a long, persuasive monologue about intolerance. In its initial years, film noir was usually about the unravelling of a tragic flaw. But the Hollywood left was starting to look up, and out towards the world.