A film like Crossfire puts another film that spreads around its social consciousness- i.e. the recent film Crash- almost to shame. Not necessarily because either one puts forth its message of intolerance-is-rotten more significantly (although I'd wager Crash throws the hammer down much more thickly in comparison with this), but because of how the storytelling and contrivances never get much in the way like with Crash. Maybe it's not really necessary to compare the two, as Crossfire is in its core all deep into the film-noir vein like its going out of style. It was interesting actually to see what the director Edward Dmytryk said on the DVD interview, where he mentioned that the budget for the photography was significantly lower (on purpose) so that more could be spent on the actors, and the schedule went through at a very brisk, quick pace. But then what comes off then as being incredible about the picture is that you would think looking at many of the lighting set-ups that it took a lot to do. Just for a small scene, like when Robert Mitchum's Keeely first goes in for questioning under the Captain Robert Young- the contrasts of shadows seamlessly in the room is exquisite. That there are many other lighting set-ups that go even further with so little marks this as something essential in the realm of just the look of the noir period. Just take a look at a shot of characters on a stairwell, the bars silhouetted against them, and see what I mean.
But back to the substance part of the film- it's really a story that consists of a murder mystery, but one that we as the audience don't take long to figure on the answer. It's then more about something else then in the mind and soul of a killer that wouldn't be found in a common crime picture then, as there are really no 'criminals' for the most part in the film. There's a very calculated risk with this then that characters could be too thin just to prop up the (worthwhile) message against anti-semitism. But Dmytryk's direction of his top-shelf cast, along with a really terrific script by John Paxton fleshes out the characters, least of which for what they should have to not seem too thin alongside the message. And what would a noir be then without some attitude to go along with it? Mitchum helps that along, even in scenes like between him and Young where its very much based in the situation of the story's moment (i.e. a detail in the plot), by injecting a little sly wit into some of the dialog. It may already be there in the lines, but he helps make the character with a good edge for his scenes.
Then there's also Robert Ryan, who excels at Montgomery as a man who you know you don't like much at first, just through his b.s. demeanor, but you're not totally sure about either. Then once it starts to come clearer- ironically through a subjective view-point of the suspect Mitchell (George Cooper) at the apartment of the soon-to-be-deceased Samuels- his performance becomes a great balancing act of being full of crap and also rather frightening in his blind-way. It's a good performance when also countered with Cooper, who has actual personal issues that he faces and comes forward with regret and humility. It's really after the film ends that one thinks about a lot of this, however, and while you're watching the film it's more about getting into the dialog and the flow of the scenes, and in the sometimes stark, overpowering camera moves on the actors, so the message is in a way secondary. Not that it isn't an important one, especially for the time period (coming right off of WW2), but years later its seeing the actors, even the ones that don't get the big marquee status like Gloria Grahame as Ginny (the femme fatale of the picture, if it could've had time for one which it doesn't) and William Phipps as Leroy (the "hick"), working off one another that sticks much strongly in the compacted screenplay.
Dmytryk is also very wise in choosing to limit the musical score is powerful too, as for very long stretches we hear nothing, and mostly when it does come up it's incidental to the character's surroundings. He could've just as easily gone with added musical notes on some dramatic scenes for emphasis, most specifically the opening audience-grabber into the film. By sticking clear of that, and getting the right attitudes and nuance in camera and cast, it uplifts standards in genre material to a very fine, memorable level. My favorite scene would probably go to Finley's story about an Irish immigrant he tells to Leroy, where all such elements come into place well. It might not come in very high at the top of my favorite noirs- and I'd still throw-down Murder My Sweet as the director's masterpiece in this kind of picture- but it's assuredly higher in quality than something of the B-level too.