At an isolated, seaside greasy-spoon cafe live George, the sarcastic owner; Slob, the potentially violent cook; and Kotty, the sexy waitress all the men lust after. Plus an occasional ... See full summary »
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At an isolated, seaside greasy-spoon cafe live George, the sarcastic owner; Slob, the potentially violent cook; and Kotty, the sexy waitress all the men lust after. Plus an occasional customer, including "Professor Sam", Kotty's boyfriend from a nearby research facility. And something's going on under the potentially explosive surface emotions...nuclear secrets being smuggled out of the country. Written by
Rod Crawford <firstname.lastname@example.org>
The most important thing about this amazing piece is that despite its limitations from the buck fifty budget to the sledgehammered propagandist overtones to the all-over-the-place acting, this is a highly entertaining and enigmatic movie-going experience. That is not to say that it makes a lick of sense. But when you are treated to as much tear stained laughs and anvil-forged he-man dialogue, does it matter? I didn't even intend to see this one but a revival house ran it as the second feature here in Hollywood a few years back and I sat and watched and was blown away. I can't recall what the top billed film was but I sure recall this quintessential (yet almost unknown) tough guy movie. Screw all the proto-Nietzchean questions of Man and Superman, existential angst and jingoistic integrity discussion. This is pure lusty FUN... the story of good girls gone bad and bad men gone worse!
For starters, here's an object lesson on how someone with screen charisma can overcome incredible problems, including a spotty on-the-nose script and zero production values. In this case, young Lee Marvin (SLOB) absolutely obliterates, yanking all our attention away from whatever else is happening (generally not much) in any given scene. This IS a compliment. His infectiously sullen scowl and alienated bad boy 'tude is so blinding that even Keenan Wynn, quite the smouldering hambone of hate himself, is superseded. I can't really recall all the ins and outs of the thinly veiled communist parablizing (something about smuggled nuclear secrets), but I sure recall Marvin hitting up a very comely Terry Moore and that the sparks fly. Truly, there is as much iconoclastic rebellious poseuring here as in Brando's much more famous (but no better) THE WILD ONE or any three Clint Eastwood movies. There may not have been any visible plot but the dialogue is diamond hard and I promise the blisteringly melodramatic interactions will have you laughing harder than you will at anything Adam Sandler puts out.
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