SING YOUR LIFE: Recently watched Kiss of Death, a bleak and sometimes grimy little noir about a small-time robber who eventually gives in to the cops and turns state’s evidence so that he can go home to his daughters. The story sets out to tug your heartstrings and succeeds (the guy was only robbing jewels at the start of the movie because no one would give a legit job to an ex-con, and his kids needed Christmas presents!); it’s much better at portraying misery than joy. The nuns who take in the two little girls are stock characters from the Cath-symp era of Hollywood described in Ross Douthat’s new book, and the romance feels very standard-issue as well. What stands out are the casual cruelties–the district attorney and his employees mock their prisoner for being a stool pigeon, even as they’re urging him to sing!–and the truly scary performance of Richard Widmark as a Joker-grinning sociopath.