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4/10
Senior Film Conservator
A definitive 4/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. Man Against Woman remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
If you like movies where the cop acts more like a neighborhood bully than a detective, then yeah, sure. This is one for people who want to see 1930s grit without any of the polish. If you need your leads to be moral or likable, steer clear. Johnny McCloud is, frankly, a bit of a jerk.
The whole movie feels like it was filmed in a basement that smells like cheap cigars and stale perfume. It’s not fancy, and it doesn’t try to be. It just happens.
Johnny McCloud doesn't really investigate anything. He just shows up, yells at someone, and throws a punch. Watching him operate makes me think about Money to Burn, though this one has way less charm and way more bruised knuckles. It’s funny, in a bleak way, how little actual police work goes on here.
There’s this one scene where McCloud corners a guy, and the framing is so tight you can see the sweat on the actor's nose. It feels claustrophobic. It’s not art, but it’s definitely effective.
Lola Parker is supposed to be this torch singer everyone is losing their minds over. Honestly? She’s just tired. You can see it in her eyes during the song numbers. She’s stuck between a guy who commits crimes and a guy who probably should be committing them.
George Perry, the crook, is just sort of... there. He’s the obstacle. The movie treats him like a prop more than a person, which is weirdly honest for a film this old.
It’s not as polished as The Rainbow Trail, but it has this nasty, sharp edge to it. I’m not sure I’d call it good, but it certainly isn't boring. It’s just blunt. Sometimes, you just want a movie to be a blunt object. 🚬
Anyway, McCloud gets his man in the end. He also gets the girl. It feels earned in the most cynical way possible. You walk away feeling like you need to wash your hands, but maybe that’s the point.