The engine of film noir isn’t lust or greed, as primal as those impulses are. It’s guilt. And not the weak-tea stuff they serve in Catholic school, but a soul-gnawing, whiskey-craving amalgam of remorse, regret, and retribution. Ask wronged man Vincent Parry, who sneaks out of San Quentin to find the lowlife who framed him for the murder of his wife. But every move the... More >>>