Ranald MacDougall (Mildred Pierce) adapted the Ernest Hemingway novel, which at the time was probably unfilmable, but it's still a tough little film, transposed for some reason from the east coast to the west (California and Mexico). John Garfield sounds the right note as a desperately struggling boat captain who is ripped off and gets in with the wrong crowd, represented by crooked lawyer Wallace Ford. The bunch of criminals who end up on his boat are a nasty lot indeed. I don't really know of them who's who, but his loyal wife is Phyllis Thaxter and the blonde maneater is Patricia Neal (good), with Juano Hernandez the ill-fated skipper's mate, Victor Sen Yung as a people trafficker.
Tense, and excitingly directed by Curtiz and crisply filmed by Ted McCord, with his usual attention to background lighting, for Warner Brothers.
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