Shack Out on 101

SHACK OUT ON 101, Edward Dein's 1955 minimalist masterpiece of Cold War weirdness remains, over 50 years later, one of Hollywood's strangest concoctions.

A dilapidated seaside beanery just north of San Diego is the setting for this outré noir tale about a group of disparate folks who become either directly or peripherally involved with Commie spies and stolen microfilm. The unforgettable cast includes Keenan Wynn as the diner's proprietor, a man obsessed with his "pecs" and always at odds with Lee Marvin as Slob, the animalistic short-order cook who's obsessed with va-va-voom Terry Moore who drives all the guys wild as the put-upon waitress who seems to only have eyes for Frank Lovejoy, "the professor" (of what we're not exactly sure) and Whit Bissell as the annoyingly chatty salesman who wanders in and out of the picture whenever a couple of uninterrupted minutes of bizarre banter is required.

This is not a normal film in any true sense of the word. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense and, apart from aligning itself with the then current trend of pseudo patriotic, anti- communist espionage films, it isn't easy to guess what was really on the minds of those who produced this delirious little oddity. At times hilarious (possibly intentional, possibly not) and grimly somber, SHACK OUT ON 101 defies rational description and should most definitely be experienced at least once, or in the case with some of us, as often as humanly possible.

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.

Lee Marvin's "Slob" character alone makes this worth viewing, although the espionage film is a bit talky and stagy. Still, Marvin is a real hoot, right from the beginning, and provides a few neat surprises near the end. "Slob" is the name of his character, and it fits.

Otherwise, the film is an insult-fest with everyone trading barbs at one another. Some of them are pretty funny. Keenan Wynn as "George," the diner owner, is involved in many of the put-downs but Terry Moore has a lot of good lines, too. They reminded me some good film noir dialog.

Moore plays the blonde bimbo, "Kotty," a self-proclaimed "hash-slinger" who has good looks and figure and isn't as dumb as she sounds. The guys all call her "tomato" during the story, a popular slang term for babes back in the '50s. All the guys in here are hot for Kotty, and you can't blame them.

Several characters in here aren't who they appear to be, beginning with Frank Lovejoy's professor role, so the movie does keep you guessing.

This is an odd film, a B-atmosphere with an "A" cast. It includes some strange scenes such as the goofy weight workout at the diner with Marvin and Cobb, and later a dry-land snorkel-thon between Cobb and Whit Bissell. Speaking of the latter, Bissell is a familiar face. He did a ton of TV shows in the 1950s through the 1970s. I saw him on a number of Lone Rangers episodes but he also had multiple appearances of Wagon Train, Peyton Place, The Virginian, Perry Mason, World Of Disney, The Rifleman and many, many more shows.

This is one of those strange films where overall, it sucks - let's face it, but many individual scenes make you just laugh out loud, meaning it had enough entertainment to have made my (and others here) time watching it worthwhile......barely.

The shack out on Highway 101 just north of San Diego is an oceanside greasy-spoon hung with nautical bric-a-brac like a Red Lobster franchise. It's also the regional headquarters for an subversive spy ring and the claustrophobic setting for one of the oddest fish spawned during the Red Scare paranoia of the post-war years.

Keenan Wynn owns the joint, with short-order cook Lee Marvin and waitress Terry Moore as his live-in help, an arrangement as uncomfortable for Moore as it is convenient for Marvin, who can't keep his hands or lips off her. Regulars include Frank Lovejoy (as an unspecified 'professor' romancing Moore), salesman Whit Bissell, an old fisherman making 'deliveries' right off the boat, and a couple of drivers for theAcme Poultry Company who come in for coffee and cherry pie. In this entrepôt big wads of cash get traded for tiny slivers of microfilm. And operatives losing their nerve or asking too many questions get dead.

Few of those movies which the studios felt constrained to issue in testimony to their rock-solid Americanism were much good (and audiences shunned them like week-old mackerel). But they shared an utter lack of humor and a suffocating tone of moral urgency. This one is more perplexing. The prevailing tone remains light, at times veering toward farce, to an extent that the very real possibility presents itself that the whole thing is a very sly put-on.

One morning when Wynn and Marvin, stripped to their waists, engage in some weight-lifting, Wynn insists that his chest muscles be referred to as 'pecs.' Marvin retorts 'I'm very happy with my pecs,' whereupon they call in Moore to judge which of them has the better legs. In another scene, Moore, lighted through the holes of a hanging colander, looks like she contracted some exotic contagion. But then the movie shifts abruptly into cloak-and-dagger episodes right out of B-movies of the international intrigue genre. Towards the end, the heart sinks as it becomes clear that the movie means us to take it seriously. But serious about what? Never is the word 'Communist' uttered.

I find it tremendously rewarding to see all these enthusiastic comments about this movie here on the IMDb. This is a film that no-one ever seems to have heard of, and it's a guilty pleasure in every way. It makes NO sense, it is essentially claustrophobically confined to one cheap set within which a stream of unlikely characters played by great quirky actors parades by. There is no narrative structure at all, and you're not even sure what the point is by the end, but thanks especially to Lee Marvin and Keenan Wynn, you're fascinated all along the way.

I haven't seen it in years now (something happened to my videotape of it, recorded off of TNT many years ago), but I'd consider it one of my favorite movies on the basis of the fact that I could watch it over and over and always find it satisfying.

It's hard to recommend it for any rational reason, and yet I'd urge any film buff with even a tiny sense of the absurd to watch it some time before you die. You'll never see anything remotely like it, for good reason. But it gives you faith in the concept that just about anything can get produced, if you only believe strongly enough.....