The Wrong Man (1956)
There's no question Alfred Hitchcock has pulled off something amazing here, a kind of experiment. Entirely based on true events, and without any sense of chase, romance, or high intrigue, and without special effects or even witty dialog, he makes you feel for the main character, Henry Fonda, a man accused of a crime he did not commit.
It's often pointed out that Hitchcock had an enormous fear of the police, and of being accused when innocent. This shows up in many of his films, but never more clearly or more painfully than here. To watch is an adventure in frustration, almost to the point you have to turn it off. But of course, you can't just get up and leave. You have to know what happens.
And the turns of events are so reasonable and yet so unbearable, you just want to get up there and say, do this, do that! It's weird to say, this is not an enjoyable movie. But it's a very good one, maybe flawless in its attempt to trap you as much as the main character was trapped. The surrounding cast is terribly believable, the cops, the wife, the kids. And it unfolds with such dramatic relentlessness. The camera angles (thanks to Robert Burks) are psychologically intense (and edited for discomfort). And the music (Bernard Herrmann, soon to score Psycho) only adds more tension.
Beautifully. As an exercise in precision, and in sticking to the facts, this is as good as a dramatic (non-documentary) film can get. Wikipedia has a small amount of helpful information, and tcm.com has a lot (click on articles or reviews on the left for a range of texts). But of course, watch it straight. See some period New York City scenes (from streets to jails to what looks like the amazing 57th St. bridge at dusk). A wonderful, if not uplifting, movie.
