Prison film slash courtroom drama overhauled by a music-video aesthetic. The light is insufficient to conduct an attorney-client conference, let alone a public trial by jury. The intervening haze is sometimes indigo, sometimes marigold, most times mildew. The flashbacks are in bleached black-and-white. The independent-minded camera likes to shoot through jail bars, stair rails, Venetian blinds, drapes, etc., and while doing so it likes to circle and bob and zigzag and sprint flat out. It also likes to hang from the ceiling or the clouds for the occasional point of view of a bombardier. In sum, a director to watch out for, and run for cover from: Marc Rocco. The story is the allegedly true one, ca. 1941, of a petty thief driven homicidally mad by three consecutive years of solitary confinement in the dungeons of Alcatraz. Missteps could be pointed out in abundance in script and performances as well (Kevin Bacon, Christian Slater, Gary Oldman), but they are unnecessary to make the case for conviction. (1995) — Duncan Shepherd
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