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Its main draw is Sam Fuller's direction – he is, without a doubt, one of the most skillful American directors to have ever lived. You have to see some of the brilliant long takes in Park Row to believe them. The flowing shots make the rather brilliant moves in Alfred Hitchcock's Rope look trite (which is no dump on Hitch, mind you; Park Row is just that impressive). Unfortunately, Fuller's screenwriting ability is quite a bit below his directorial prowess. You've got to admire any director who was working in Hollywood at the time and was also able to write his own scripts. There is only the smallest handful of writer/directors at the time. But, man, can Sam Fuller be overbearing at times. Fortunately, the sillier pieces of the script, as well as bad bits of dialogue, fuel the madness of it all in Park Row. I found myself utterly entertained by the larger than life situations and the hamfisted attempts at symbolism. I laughed quite hard at a scene where Phineas Mitchell, the film's protagonist, attacks a hired thug from the rival newspaper and pounds him repeatedly against the statue of Ben Franklin. I also loved the overwrought symbolism of the scene where Phineas hangs the final issue of his paper on a hook labeled `Deaths.' Or how about the ridiculously over-the-top editorial that Davenport writes near the end? And you've just got to love the final scene, with the word `THIRTY' boldly replacing `THE END'. You'll understand what that means if you see the picture. The only piece of the film that should really have been subtracted is the horribly clunky romance; it seems like an afterthought developed to capture a greater number of female moviegoers and it doesn't work a lick. 9/10.
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