4/10
On the Waterfront On Seventh Avenue.
13 May 2009
Warning: Spoilers
Something of a disappointment. Lee J. Cobb is the anti-union head of Roxton Garments in New York. His partner in the business is killed when an elevator is unleashed and plunges twenty-seven floors to the bottom of the shaft, in the scariest scene in the film.

Cobb doesn't know it, or doesn't let himself realize it, but the man behind the killing is Richard Boone, who protects the business from union organizers.

Then Cobb's son, Kerwin Mathews, returns from Europe determined to learn the business and join his father in running a clean shop. He's shocked -- shocked! -- to learn that Boone has been clobbering the union members and killing a few who have become irretrievably irritating.

Robert Loggia is one of the organizers who is killed by a couple of Boone's goons, led by Wesley Addy. Loggia leaves behind a widow, Gia Scala, with whom Mathews, understandably and decorously, takes up.

In the end, Cobb pays for his self deception, Addy and Boone get their just desserts, and Mathews winds up with the succulent Scala, after whom an opera house is named.

There isn't a sparkle in any line of dialog. A couple of lines are stolen verbatim from "On the Waterfront" -- "pistoleros", "you'll talk yourself right into the grave." The plot is schematic and holds absolutely no surprises. Vincent Sherman's direction is pedestrian. The photography is flat an uninspired, though there are a couple of nice shots of New York streets.

Lee J. Cobb can act. In this case, it must have been easy for him because he replays Johnny Friendly from "On the Waterfront," only this time with a soft heart. Richard Boone can act too. Joseph Wiseman, in a minor part, does a good job. Gia Scala hits her marks, says what the script demands, and does what the director tells her to. A stunning woman, her life soured early on. The director and photographer do a good job on Wesley Addy. He has white hair, a blanched face, eyes the color of a glacial lake, and he's sometimes shot through a wide-angle lens than turns his surprisingly fleshy lips into those of some kind of parasitic fish. I don't see him as a low-tier muscle man though. He and Boone should have switched roles. Harold J. Stone is his reliable self, although he's forced to be more "Italian", as Tony, than comes naturally to him. Nobody else in anything resembling a major part is more than mediocre, and some performers don't clear even that bar. Kerwin Mathews may be a nice guy in real life, but he's blandly sterile and belongs in domestic dramas on afternoon television.

Great title, suggestive of intrigue and shadows. Some good people in the cast. A potentially explosive expose of a business nobody knows much about but which deals in megabucks.

And it all comes out like this.
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