A movie I remember loving, from long ago, is Fritz Lang's "Scarlet Street." I wasn't around when it popped up on the scene; it's from the Golden Era of film noir, an era that spanned some portion of the 1940s and 1950s. But I happened to see it during a solo trip to Miami, at a nerdy little Film Forum-ish theater, and it was an unplanned treat. A plot unfolds when one character tries to manipulate another character (usually via covert means). In "Scarlet Street," Edward G. Robinson goes on a journey. He is a meek cashier, trapped in a loveless marriage, and he believes he sees something that he actually isn't seeing. What he thinks he sees: A strange man attacking a woman. What he is, in fact, seeing: A quarrel between lovers. Robinson drives the man away, and he mistakenly believes he is rescuing the woman. The two get drinks nearby, and Robinson, smitten, allows the young lady to believe that he is a successful painter. Now both the gentleman a...