The Seventies version features lost, terrorized kids being saved by the actions of an adult search party. The Thirties version is a kid saving himself and his sweetheart, through his own ingenuity, because there are no adults are there to save him.
The character of Joe Valachi was a big part of what kept me from enjoying the film. As a mobster, Valachi's not very successful. He's just a boss's driver, with a pair of legit side businesses, kind of passive and, ultimately, boring. He's not clever. He's not charismatic. He often comes across as bizarrely naive, at times, almost child-like.
It's not a film I watch very often, but when I do, it's not because I'm feeling miserable and seek to compound that misery by viewing the film as a presciently bleak political statement.
Late Nineties Crap Noir. Very anti-audience. Oliver Stone riffs on John Dahl, a la psilocybin mushrooms.
The commercialization of political hysteria is nothing new, nor is it exclusive to the left side of the aisle.
How's this for an odd piece of movie trivia?
I can't think of a single Sam Peckinpah feature I've thought less of than this one. Convoy was more fulfilling.