Tuesday, 5 November 2024

Noirvember: The Mob (1951)

Let’s start at the end with this one. If you somehow caught the final scene of this film when it was on TV then you could be forgiven for thinking it was an episode of Police Squad. It ends on a light note that I could easily see being played out by Leslie Nielsen and company while some major perp figured out that they could escape as everyone stayed in a freeze-frame position. That’s quite a difference when compared to how it all starts, but I feel that it’s only fair to warn people who may want their film noirs to be hard-boiled from start to finish.

Based on a novel, Waterfront, by Ferguson Findley, this is the tale of a tough cop (Johnny Damico, played by Broderick Crawford) who is tasked with going undercover to gain entry to, and climb, the criminal underworld career ladder. Damico needs to get to the top man, but that might only happen if he stays alive long enough.

One of the earlier films to be directed by Robert Parrish, who wore a number of hats during his time in the movie business, The Mob is a serviceable screenplay from William Bowers that is elevated by some choice cast members doing their bit to help everything move along quickly and entertainingly enough.

Crawford may not be the best lead, but he definitely has the attitude for the role. He convinces as someone tough and fearless enough to do what he has been asked to do, and there’s never any doubt about him keeping his moral compass pointing in the right direction. A couple of the main heavies are played by Neville Brand and Ernest Borgnine, both fantastic in their roles, and the latter having the added bonus of just having that Borgnine presence (of course). Betty Buehler, Lynn Baggett, and Jean Alexander portray a variety of women who are slightly connected to a couple of the main characters, and Richard Kiley, Otto Hulett, and Matt Crowley play important roles in guiding the fate of our lead.

There are enough good moments throughout to make this worth a viewing, but the teeth of the film are filed down more when they should be getting sharper. The third act feels far too safe and tame, and also slightly rushed when the very last scenes start to play out, despite the 87-minute runtime that should be more than enough for this kind of thing.

Good enough for crime film fans, but far from essential viewing. At least you can keep your eyes peeled for that briefest appearance of a young Charles Bronson though. That’s a small bonus.

6/10

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