Every time the viewer finds himself sucked into the suspenseful storyline expertly crafted by Greene (Brighton Rock, The Power and the Glory), or sinking into the inky, rain-slicked nightscape spun like a spell by Robert Krasker's photography; every time we fix on costar Alida Valli's enchantingly defiant gaze, or strain to keep up with the villainous Lime's rapid, mesmerizing, Nietzschean monologues about the Borgias; every time we follow Holly down another bleak alleyway . . . every single time, that darn zither kicks in - and kicks us - repeating that same silly leitmotif.