René Clément vividly chronicled the mood of dejected realism left by World War Two, becoming one of the most important filmmakers of the postwar period. The Walls of Malapaga has something of the existential clarity of La Bataille du rail (The Battle of the Rails, 1946) as well as the uncanny insights into a child's world that characterized Jeux Interdits (Forbidden Games, 1952). A Franco-Italian production set in the Genoa backwash, it tells of the brief attachment between a cynical and weary Frenchman on the run (Jean Gabin) and a waitress in a cheap trattoria (Isa Miranda). The latter's sensitive young daughter (Vera Talchi) becomes the center and soul of the film, trapped between feelings of love and jealousy just as the adults are trapped in loneliness. The action develops rapidly within a short span of time, tension deriving less from the narrative than from the way Clément penetrates the facades of characters and objects to reveal their very essence. The script is lean and literary, the resolution stark and bitter.