What a wacky movie.

It begins with a false ending. Dillnger's pop beseeching the audience for sympathy: what melodrama. A car drug up from the marshes.

The most economical start of his career ever contrived, with all the trappings of noir: he meets the femme fatale, goes around the block to get cash, is cornered by the cops the moment he steps out the store. Not even 3 minutes have elapsed. And what funky play with the clock when he get's out and robs/seduces the dame at the ticket counter.

That crap about the white cross? Ironic symbolistic mumbo jumbo if I've never heard it before!

God. Lawrence Tierney in the motel at the end of his life, going through the months and looking out the window. He has become his stache and his goggled glasses. There is no chance left but parody. Watch out for the woman in red.

This movie was one big joke. A man with wanderlust who wouldn't take *beep* How did this get made? Even today people would say: "it had no point." That's what makes it great.