Beautifully-made Depression-era allegory on innocence vs evil, one of the great masterpieces of American film (despite being largely dismissed by critics on its initial release). Mitchum delivers a frightening portrayal of smooth talking but villainous itinerant preacher Reverend Harry Powell who’s determined to find a stash of hidden loot, the whereabouts of which is only known by his on-the-run stepchildren whom he’s determined to catch and kill. Winters is their unfortunate mother (whose fate is captured in a memorable under-water shot) and Gish is serene as the wise old matron who helps them out.
With its stark, expressionistic imagery, this hypnotic work switches from light to dark in what seems like the blink of an eye. Unfortunately, actor-turned-director Laughton would never helm another film after the initial hate and rejection this classic got. Its legacy, however, lives on.