John Bromfield, unknown to me, plays Joe, a drunken veteran who becomes the chief suspect in a series of murders plaguing his home town. The nominal back story implies that he was a once-promising golden boy gone a little bad; still, it seems implausible that everyone would so quickly be willing to turn against one of their own and assume him to be the guilty party on the flimsy evidence the police collect from the crime scene. That evidence consists almost entirely of a school ring, so everyone immediately assumes that the killer must be someone from Joe's graduating class -- apparently the idea of planting evidence never occurred to anyone. Indeed, this plot point becomes an unintentional joke, as suspect after suspect is asked "Where's your ring?" and if they're able to produce it, or merely say they still have it, everyone assumes they can't possibly be the murderer. That's some cracker jack detective work.
"Crime Against Joe" has no discernible directing style and no apparent reason for existing other than as a program filler. The screenplay is just too weak, and there's not enough style in the filmmaking to compensate for the story's failings. Julie London is the film's best asset, though mostly because she's so pretty, not because her character, that of Joe's reluctant love interest, generates much interest.
There's also a bizarre and somewhat inexplicable story line about a sleepwalking girl and her father's efforts to cover up his daughter's affliction, and how this cover up affects the case against Joe. Was sleepwalking something to be that ashamed of back in 1956?
Grade: C
