Robert J. Maxwell 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.

Spikeopath The Mob is directed by Robert Parish and adapted to screenplay by William Bowers from the novel written by Ferguson Findley. It stars Broderick Crawford, Betty Buehler, Richard Kiley, Otto Hulett, Matt Crowley, Neville Brand, Ernest Borgnine and Jean Alexander. Music is by George Duning and cinematography by Joseph Walker.Cop Johnny Damico (Crawford) is fooled by a mob killer during the slaying of a witness and is chastised by his superiors. Sent undercover to infiltrate the waterfront organisation to flush out the killer, Damico faces danger at every turn.He's a cop who is hell bent on atoning for what could basically be a career ruining error. It's this core essence that really oils the pistons of this tough and under seen slice of crime cinema. Awash with characters so shifty it's hard to locate a moral compass in the mix, director Robert Parrish (Cry Danger) takes a standard under cover plot and elevates it to a riveting tale of corruption, paranoia and the search for redemption at any cost.William Bowers' script positively pings with the sort of dialogue you could cut a joint of beef with, with most of it spat from the mouth of the excellent Crawford. No matter what the situation, what the danger, Damico has a quip or a put down to always exude a calm and carefree menace, he literally is a sardonic miserablist who is unflappable. It's a wonderful characterisation that's helped enormously by a screenplay that contains some surprises, with a nifty plot line standing out that sees Damico hired by the mob to enact a hit on himself! Wonderful.Parrish keeps the atmosphere side of things on the boil, always ensuring that Damico could be snuffed out at any moment, while Walker's (The Velvet Touch) photography is tight to the plotting. Around Crawford are a raft of familiar faces from film noir, with the villain roll call considerably boosted by Borgine and Brand. From the quite excellent opening murder played out in the nighttime rain, story unfolds in a whirl of sarcasm, set-ups, machismo, stand-offs and mobster machinations. The Mob, under seen and under valued, add it to your "to see lists", especially if you be a fan of Brod Crawford. 8/10

dougdoepke Get "Mr. Big"-- that was the target of a lot of crime dramas back when the Kefauver Commission on Organized Crime was headlines. Here, Mr Big is Backie Clegg, the mysterious crime boss of an ocean-front city. Crawford's assigned to go undercover to get Clegg, and he better because he's already screwed-up on an underworld killing (the movie's opening scene). Crawford gets a lot of good snappy lines and a brutal knock-down-drag- out with thuggish Neville Brand, but his best scene is in a station house. There, the hefty Crawford does a finger push while leaning into a wall—not exactly standard interrogation procedure for the cops, and I'm still hurting from that one.Nonetheless, the results are too uneven overall to reach the front rank. Following drips on a city street with a special light makes for suspenseful viewing, but what cops would really use such an undependable tracking method. Also, the mysterious Clegg is a theatrical device that doesn't mix well with the tough, realistic scenes along the waterfront. It's like someone in charge couldn't decide on a consistent approach. Still, it's a great chance to see up-and-comers in supporting roles (Bronson, Brand, and Borgnine). Then too, there's Crawford, not exactly your standard leading man. I kept thinking he and the handsome Kiley were supposed to switch roles. Yet it's Crawford's homely looks that make the movie somewhat memorable, along with a machine gun delivery that really spits out snappy lines. Anyway, be sure to catch the very last scene— from the way everybody's behaving, I don't think it was in the script.

boblipton The title of this review says it all. In 1951, who knew who Ernest Borgnine, Richard Kiley and Charles Buchinsky were? But in this Columbia noir, made after Broderick Crawford became an unlikely star because of ALL THE KING'S MEN has the lead going undercover to investigate racketeering on the docks, we see how good actors can overcome a basically decent script overloaded with 'snappy' dialog, cheap sets and unexceptional directing. The actors are, frankly, amazing and this is as good as a movie can get with a major flaw like this -- ace DP Joseph Walker can't do much with the studio sets and back projection, but he makes a good effort with a highly mobile camera.