In the 1950s the government went on a witch hunt. Instead of looking for broom-toting women who drink from bubbling cauldrons, it sought Communist sympathizers.

This real-life hunt is the focus of "Guilty by Suspicion," starring Robert De Niro.

The creative community of '50s Hollywood fell victim to the patriotism gone awry in the House Un-American Activities Committee. Screenwriters, directors and other Hollywood craftspeople were branded "Communist," as the Committee began its reign of terror and censorship of the film industry.

In Irwin Winkler's "Guilty by Suspicion," De Niro delivers a powerhouse performance as David Merrill, a larger-than-life director who becomes a target of HUAC's inquiry. Unfortunately, the film lacks the punch that would match De Niro's incredibly strong performance.

With De Niro, everything in this film is right. He looks as handsome as he ever has onscreen, creates David Merrill as a thoroughly sympathetic character and possesses just the right amount of fire without falling into the hysterics of his opponents, the members of the House Committee.

Other than De Niro and Annette Bening, who plays Merrill's ex-wife Ruth, no characters in "Guilty by Suspicion" emerge as sympathetic. Perhaps that is the biggest problem with the film.

The most unsympathetic character is Dorothy Nolan (Patricia Wettig of "thirtysomething"), an actress whose husband cracks under HUAC's pressure. An alcoholic wench, she snaps out of her selfish world after a HUAC trial incriminates her and causes her to lose custody of her child. It is very hard to feel sorry for Dorothy when she commits suicide, because she spends her screen time overacting and making herself detestable.

David's best friend Bunny (George Wendt of TV's "Cheers") also does little to endear himself to audience hearts. At first he seems close to the Merrills, but as the film goes on he loses his loyalty. Redeeming himself at the film's conclusion seems too little, too late.

The story itself has the potential to be incredibly tense and suspenseful, but under Winkler's direction it seems to fizzle, with De Niro left to carry the film along. The anticlimactic end, with titles explaining the outcome of the trials, seemed hardly worth the effort of showing the trial scene at all.

Despite its problems, however, "Guilty by Suspicion" is more appealing than typical Hollywood fluff. Sharp dialogue supports De Niro's stunning performance, allowing him to play the powerful director without losing warmth.

Another small and terrific touch is Martin Scorsese's bit part as Joe, a fellow director of David's who flees the watchful eye of HUAC by leaving for Europe. The irony of seeing him as an onscreen director is a treat, and his gleeful way of speaking makes it seem that he is having fun with the small role. The irony is played up in a small scene in which Joe gives the end of his film to David to finish, as he leaves for Europe. "You always did have problems with your endings," jokes David.

Another irony is Winkler's selection of songs to play against the action onscreen. During David's downfall, he goes to different studios and tries to gain admittance to talk to some of the producers. He is turned away at each gate, and experiences a similar rejection on the phone to dozens of studio heads. Over this depressing scene, a bluesy song, "Just a Lucky So-and-So" wails. Touches like this lift the film from mediocrity.

The film also has a lush look, thanks to faithful recreation of the '50s and beautiful cinematography from Michael Ballhaus, who most notably collaborated with Martin Scorsese on most of his films, including the technically astounding "The Last Temptation of Christ." The gloomy streets of New York echo the dreariness David experiences, the cinematography matching the mood throughout the film.

Despite an unexciting handling of the potentially tense material and a few characters developed unsympathetically, "Guilty by Suspicion" rises above this slumpish Hollywood season on the shoulders of Robert De Niro.