In Sam Fuller’s witty genre exercise, New York City lowlifes get mixed up in Cold War espionage when slick pickpocket Richard Widmark inadvertently lifts a wallet that contains microfilm imprinted with US government secrets. Both the FBI and the Russians are soon on his trail. Meanwhile, Richard Widmark refuses to help out either side and plots how he can benefit from all of this.
There’s no real hero here. J. Edgar Hoover HATED this film for its depiction of the FBI working with police who pay off underworld informants, as well as for its default main character (Widmark) NOT being a patriot. Right in 1950s Red Scare America, Richard Widmark’s Skip McCoy dares to not give a flying fuck about betraying the USA (“Don’t wave the flag at me,” he retorts when confronted about this.) Even his criminal peers—some of whom are only moved to selfless acts when it means crushing the Commies—are shocked by that. Writer/director Fuller doesn’t hold it against him, though. Fuller is way too excited about drawing out his complex, unconventional characters to bother with politics. He’s fascinated by people with no allegiances, people willing to work for anybody who will pay.
There’s a mountain of great dialogue here, too, with Fuller handing many of the best lines to 51 year old Thelma Ritter as a likable old woman who informs on crooks for money so she can save up for her dream of a fancy cemetery plot. She’d get an Academy Award nomination for her performance.