The Man I Killed (Paramount) is an extraordinary picture for several reasons. One is that the emotion with which it is mainly concerned—contrition—has generally been considered too vague or too rare for cinemaddicts to appreciate, except in its most blatant and trivial forms. Taken from a play by Maurice Rostand, The Man I Kitted presents the case of a hypersensitive French soldier who, when the War is over, is tortured by remembering a young German whom he stabbed to death in the trenches. Just how this...
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