While the original 1932 version, with Preston Foster, was good, there's no remake more worthy than this 1959 one, or more impossible to find anywhere, just as I strongly suspect Mickey Rooney to have had something to do with that. Never could a mere performance have ever been so masterfully brilliant, or a script more thought-provoking, as well as an improvement upon the original. Many years after the last of my several viewings of this film, in 1970, I read an article in which Mickey Rooney was recounting a visit he'd made to death row, and which had apparently very drastically eliminated whatever sense of personal identification he'd felt with people in similar circumstances. The article was about as short as the main character here, and didn't cover much, other than the extent to which his extreme disillusionment with the quality of the inmates themselves had been emphasized, even in language I would not care to explicitly quote here. . . . . One of my main problems with capital punishment is that, of course, it is not evenly, impartially applied, just as many innocent people are far-too-carelessly, thus unnecessarily sent to meet this particular fate. Another problem I have with it is that it is not applied swiftly enough, or, for that matter, even publicly enough! The bible makes a special point, in such cases, about one of the more important purposes of such, as a deterrent, being ineffectually obscured, minus, not only a public viewing, but also the direct participation of all! As for those who claim to prove, statistically, that such is not an effective deterrent? In addition to having a problem about the reliability of their data, I have little if any objectively disprovable doubt many are behind bars now due to the extent that such a deterrent is lacking. However, I do have a problem about the fact that Robert Duvall, in The Apostle, had been punished at all, for his particular "crime," or that the only hope of leniency for one such as he would have to be based on a "temporary insanity" defense, as though that would serve as the only acceptable excuse in his kind of case. . . . In addition to various other questions concerning the motives of Mickey Rooney for that particular visit he'd recounted, and about the answers to which I can only try to speculate, I suspect the main one had been of a decidedly religious nature. I don't know exactly when he'd become the professing Christian he now makes it a special point, whenever possible, to emphasize that he is; but, as anybody should be well-aware, this particular category of people tends to be the most vehemently out for blood, when it comes to extracting an eye for an eye. However, I have no particular bone of contention concerning that, per se, just as there's no doubt, scripturally speaking, that not all, and perhaps not even most, shall be spared the same ultimate fate, at the hands of the Lord Himself, as a result of His sacrifice on the cross. However, there is a problem, for me, about the spirit or attitude with which most professing Christians emphasize their enthusiasm for capital punishment; for, contrary to the Lord Himself, who would love to see everybody saved (Ezekiel 18:32) (II Peter 3:9), they seem to go vindictively out of their way to find reasons to condemn! . . . What most people, on either side of this superlatively ever-burning issue, cannot appear to sufficiently appreciate, is that the Lord is as dynamically and elusively soft in nature as He is hard. The two sides of His nature appear to be so inherently incompatible as to render Him mentally deranged, at least by any strictly human reckoning. Yet, regardless of how harrowingly ungraspable this miraculously dynamic blending of the water and oil in His nature surely is, there can be no doubt that anything short of it, or anything fanatically and characteristically on either one side or the other of this equation, falls inadequately and unacceptably short of the entire judicial truth. Indeed, I've seen the most blood-curdling thirst for the same come out, self-contradictorily enough, on far-too-many occasions, whenever the categorically anti-death penalty advocates are confronted, even in the most rationally well-balanced ways, with the fact that, although the Lord died for everybody, not all are thereby going to be saved. After-all, in order to receive absolution, one must, to repeat the same term, reach out and receive it, that is, repent (Luke 13:3-5). Could anything make more sense? . . . But, then, what about the Lord's command to forgive, even in the case of one's enemies, of those who despise and persecute you without a just cause or provocation? One of the far-too-prevailing difficulties with this kind of sentimentality, as popularly misinterpreted, is the way it obscuringly over-simplifies the real meaning of forgiveness. The act of forgiveness does not, in itself, mean the same thing as unconditionally excusing the one being forgiven. When one takes a clearly sober, rationally well-balanced view here, from the perspective of God's own attitude, all it actually amounts to is a fervent wish that the one forgiven will ultimately succeed at finding his way, seeing the light, and being granted mercy. This attitude is, of course, the very opposite of, say, that of Jonah, who actually resented it when God told him that his preaching to the people of Nineveh would result in their repentance. Jonah didn't want them to repent, but vindictively desired that they be destroyed. How self-righteously, cold-bloodedly like unto most professing Christians he was, save that even his reasons were undoubtedly better than most! I envy Jonah almost as much as he would me! However, minus the repentance of the one being forgiven, any forgiveness he may receive from a genuine Christian is not going to do him any good. In such a case, the only one to benefit is the real Christian himself!