Those were the days, working with what was called "break hold cargo," loading and unloading sacks and crates from ships. Now everything is pre-packed and sealed in a container that a crane lifts neatly from the hold and sits down gently on the trailer of an eighteen wheeler. No fuss, no muss, no jobs. It's why San Francisco is no longer a port, having lost its business to the more modernized Oakland across the bay. When I was a kid I used to wander the docks on New York's waterfront and pick up oddments like rolls of cinnamon from Sumatra (or so I imagined) or shards of twisted cork from Portugal.
In 1951, the period of this movie, a stevedore's job may have been hard to come by but the corruption was all over the place. The basic story is that of "On the Waterfront" except simpler and more careless. Instead of Marlon Brando discovering he has a conscience, we have gruff Broderick Crawford doing his job as an undercover cop, slugging and getting slugged. Among the bad guys who are ripping off the union are John Marley, Ernest Borgnine, and Neville Brand -- a real group of merry men. There are some women involved too, but not to any great extent.
I realize other have found this more entertaining than I did. I thought it achieved the routine. Crawford is such a slob, he never looks right in a suit -- and a pretty blond tells him he's "cute", twice. And he growls like a German shepherd when he speaks, even when he's trying to be pleasant.
Richard Kiley isn't too convincing as a waterfront working stiff. He sounds educated and looks it too. He once did a PBS special in which he did nothing much but read and enact poems that are high school standards, like "Richard Corey" and "Mr. Flood's Party." Can I quote the last stanza?
"There was not much that was ahead of him, And there was nothing in the town below— Where strangers would have shut the many doors That many friends had opened long ago."
What a portrait of desolation, and Kiley turned it into one of the most moving recitations I've ever heard. I love the guy but he seems miscast here.
The art direction is pedestrian and the milieu is one of those unnamed cities. Unnamed because it describes miscreance in high place. The dialog, though, has little sparkles sprinkled throughout. Not Edwin Arlington Robinson but dismissible and neat exchanges. "Tell me all about yourself," says a a pretty blond gangster's moll to the drunk and disheveled Crawford. "I come from a typical family. My father was an oil executive and my mother was a socialite." The jealous Kiley asks: "Did they ever marry?"
Well, if it's not exceptional for most of the movie, it livens up towards the end. It's not bad in any way but except for a few performances and the capacity shown by the dialog to insinuate its way out of the humdrum, it's just what you'd expect.
In 1951, the period of this movie, a stevedore's job may have been hard to come by but the corruption was all over the place. The basic story is that of "On the Waterfront" except simpler and more careless. Instead of Marlon Brando discovering he has a conscience, we have gruff Broderick Crawford doing his job as an undercover cop, slugging and getting slugged. Among the bad guys who are ripping off the union are John Marley, Ernest Borgnine, and Neville Brand -- a real group of merry men. There are some women involved too, but not to any great extent.
I realize other have found this more entertaining than I did. I thought it achieved the routine. Crawford is such a slob, he never looks right in a suit -- and a pretty blond tells him he's "cute", twice. And he growls like a German shepherd when he speaks, even when he's trying to be pleasant.
Richard Kiley isn't too convincing as a waterfront working stiff. He sounds educated and looks it too. He once did a PBS special in which he did nothing much but read and enact poems that are high school standards, like "Richard Corey" and "Mr. Flood's Party." Can I quote the last stanza?
"There was not much that was ahead of him, And there was nothing in the town below— Where strangers would have shut the many doors That many friends had opened long ago."
What a portrait of desolation, and Kiley turned it into one of the most moving recitations I've ever heard. I love the guy but he seems miscast here.
The art direction is pedestrian and the milieu is one of those unnamed cities. Unnamed because it describes miscreance in high place. The dialog, though, has little sparkles sprinkled throughout. Not Edwin Arlington Robinson but dismissible and neat exchanges. "Tell me all about yourself," says a a pretty blond gangster's moll to the drunk and disheveled Crawford. "I come from a typical family. My father was an oil executive and my mother was a socialite." The jealous Kiley asks: "Did they ever marry?"
Well, if it's not exceptional for most of the movie, it livens up towards the end. It's not bad in any way but except for a few performances and the capacity shown by the dialog to insinuate its way out of the humdrum, it's just what you'd expect.