Crossfire remains one of the best Hollywood message movies because, unlike the admirably intentioned Gentleman's Agreement, which it beat to theatres by a few months, it chooses to send its message via the form an excellent noir thriller rather than have an outraged star constantly saying "It's because I'm Jewish, isn't it?" It's much easier to get the message that hate is like a loaded gun across when the dead bodies are actual rather than metaphorical. Somewhat shamefully, the brief featurette on the Warners' DVD doesn't mention that novelist Richard Brooks disowned the film over the shift from a homophobic murder to an anti-Semitic one, but it's interesting to note that while the victim is killed primarily because he is Jewish, there's little doubt in Sam Levene's performance that the character is in fact also gay – not a mincing caricature, but there's definitely a two lost souls aspect to his scenes with George Cooper's confused soldier. There's not much of a mystery to who the murderer is: even though the killing is carried out in classic noir shadows, the body language of the killer is instantly recognisable, but then the film has its characters drift to the same conclusion before the halfway point: the tension comes from proving it and saving the fall guy.<br /><br />There's an element of Ealing Films to the gang of soldiers teaming together to get their buddy out of a fix (you could almost see that aspect as a blueprint for Hue and Cry), but the atmosphere is pure RKO noir. Set over one long sweltering night, the film has a great look filled with deep dark blacks and shadows born as much out of economy as style (it cut back on lighting time and allowed director Edward Dmytryk more time to work with the actors) and the excellent cast make the most of the fine script: a laid-back but quietly charismatic Robert Mitchum, Robert Young's Maigret-like detective, Gloria Grahame's tramp and the perpetually creepy Paul Kelly as her compulsive liar admirer, a guy who tries on stories the way other people try on ties. But the lasting impression is of Robert Ryan's excellent performance as a guy who could do with a good leaving alone as he does his best to help the wrongly accused man all the way to death row. A big surprise hit in 1946, as a reward, Dmytryk and producer Adrian Scott found themselves investigated by the HUAC, which itself had a notable tendency to target Jews. So much for crusading…