Thank you very much, RickB.
Regardless of what this reviewer (1953) thought, it did get awards.
http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpag...B6678388649EDE
LITTLE FUGITIVE By BOSLEY CROWTHER. Published: October 7, 1953
Little Fugitive, a shoestring film production, which opened at the Normandie yesterday under the auspices of Joseph Burstyn, dealer in cinema gems, might best be described as a candid study of a seven-year-old Brooklyn kid, done with a motion picture camera in Coney Island and points adjacent thereto. As such, it gives a wondrous illustration of the eccentricities of a small boy, adrift on his own resources in a tinny and tawdry mob playground. And its subject—a tad named Richie Andrusco—is so abounding in little-boy charm that his random adventures in the picture suggest more substance than is actually there.
For the simple fact is that this small item, which was put together by a group of young folks whose previous experience had been as still photographers and freelance journalists, is essentially a documentation of juvenile fancy and caprice, hung upon a mere situation, with slight dramatic conflict and form. And what there is of the latter is so unskillfully performed that it does not bear criticism as a finished professional job.
The heart and the body of the picture are the views of this little boy as he rambles around Coney Island, cut loose from his family and quite alone. His older brother and the latter's playmates have pulled a mean trick on him: they have made him think he has murdered his brother, and in terror he has fled.
But his terror is not long-lasting. Once at large on "the island's" teeming range, he abandons himself to the luxury of indulging his boyish whims. He stuffs himself with hot dogs, rides on the merry-go-round (because of his passion for cowboys), and tries various throwing and batting games. Then he discovers the big thrill—the two-for-a-quarter pony ride. Only now he has run out of money and has to collect pop-bottle "empties" to pay his way.
All of this is observed in charming detail through the clever and watchful cameras of Morris Engel, Ray Ashley, and Ruth Orkin, who wrote, produced, directed, and sold the thing. The alertness and style of their photography are clearly reflective of the demands of the picture-magazine layout. And that is what they've mobilized in this film.
We are not criticizing that, mind you. A day at Coney Island with a small boy, torn between curiosity and survival, can be—and is—a lot of fun. And the small boy in this instance is so expressive and unconcerned, thanks to the obvious toil of his photographers, that it is a treat to be with him. Thanks, also, to a musical soundtrack, which Lester Troeb has conceived and supervised with a harmonica as the sole instrument, the frolic has a light, informal mood.
But the limits must be perceived and mentioned—there is little conception of drama in this trick, and the mere repetition of adventures tends eventually to grow dull. The little boy, while natural and instinctive, portrays no problem of youth. If anything, he is a blissfully commonplace little animal. And his brother, played by Rickie Brewster, is an equally commonplace kid. The issue is purely fortuitous. Their anxieties are as mild as the summer rain, which pelts the beach and the boardwalk for a climactic moment in the film.
All hail to Little Fugitive and to those who made it. But count it a photographer's triumph with a limited theme.
LITTLE FUGITIVE (MOVIE)
Written and directed by Ray Ashley, Morris Engel, and Ruth Orkin; cinematographer, Mr. Engel; edited by Ms. Orkin and Lester Troeb; music by Eddy Manson; produced by Mr. Engel and Mr. Ashley; released by Joseph Burstyn Inc. Black and white. Running time: 75 minutes.
With: Richie Andrusco (Joey), Rickie Brewster (Lennie), Winnifred Cushing (The Mother), Jay Williams (Pony Ride Man), Will Lee (Photographer), Charlie Moss (Harry), and Tommy De Canio (Charlie).