711 Ocean Drive

Synopsis: A telephone repairman in Los Angeles uses his knowledge of electronics to help a bookie set up a betting operation. When the bookie is murdered, the greedy technician takes over his business. He ruthlessly climbs his way to the top of the local crime syndicate, but then gangsters from a big East Coast mob show up wanting a piece of his action.
Director(s): Joseph M. Newman
Production: Columbia Pictures Corporation
 
IMDB:
6.9
APPROVED
Year:
1950
102 min
231 Views


GANGSTER SQUAD:

We'll be at the airport

in about twenty minutes.

That'll put us in Las Vegas about 2:30.

We're going after Granger,

aren't we, lieutenant?

That's right.

What's the charge?

Murder.

What happens to a guy

like Granger?

I don't know.

Too much ambition maybe.

Too many brains working

in the wrong direction.

Or maybe it's glandular.

Step on it. We're late.

Carter wanted to talk.

But what could I tell him

about the real Mal Granger?

And I knew him better than most.

He was in the racing wire

service racket.

But he started out

just like anybody else.

He wasn't a criminal.

He was just a guy working

for the telephone company.

I just wish I could lay my hands on

Don Ameche for a while.

I'd teach him to invent the telephone.

I've always had a secret desire

to cross up some of these wires.

Get all the wrong people

talking to each other.

Might be interesting at that.

Oh, lady, lady.

What are you so quiet about?

Bessie's sick again.

Every time we get almost caught up,

one of the kids gets sick.

Kaplooey.

I don't see how you do it.

Take care of a wife and a couple of kids

on our dough.

I can't even handle myself

on that chicken feed.

It's tough, Mal.

If it wasn't for a couple of bets

now and then, I'd never make it.

Here.

There's twenty bucks that's not working.

No thanks, Mal. If I need it at the end

of the week, I'll let you know.

By the end of the week I may not

have it. You better take it now.

Gee, thanks, Mal.

Tessie's gonna love you for this.

Yeah? My bookie's gonna hate me.

See you at lunch.

-Right.

Forget about those daily doubles, bud.

Thanks.

Say, how about mine?

-Hello, Bill.

Six forty and twelve thirty.

Eighteen seventy I owe you.

Well, finally.

Stick with me, kid, you get nothing

but winners.

Ah, that was yesterday.

Hi Jack.

-Hi Chippie. 22.

Ought to start breaking for you soon.

A guy can't play tough luck all the time

I'll believe it when you

begin to pay off.

It'll be a pleasure. Here.

Scratch sheet on the house.

Something in there might really pay off.

Hi Chippie.

-Hi Mal.

How's the banking business?

-Fine.

All right, how much do I owe you?

And slug me gently, will you?

Forty even.

You ought to start playing

some chalk horses.

Too many of those long shots run out.

I don't get any bang out of those

even money payoffs.

For me, it's boxcars or nothing.

'Course this week it's nothing.

But, if you can carry me

till Saturday, little man.

Sure, Mal, anytime.

You know me, Chippie.

I don't see why a guy like you

should always be broke.

Why, if I had your...

Hey.

How about having a cup of coffee

with me?

Well, you're buying I hope.

Sure.

-All right.

Two coffees.

Right.

Say uh...

You wouldn't want to carry me

for another five, would you?

I like Big Day in the sixth at Aubrey.

Big Day?

-Yeah.

10 to 1, huh?

-Yeah.

It ain't the money, Mal, it's just that

he don't look so good.

All I can lose is five bucks

and if it wins, I break even.

How about it, Chippie?

Five straight on Big Day.

You know the only good thing

about putting bets on these?

I don't get indigestion swallowing them

every time a cop walks in.

You know, kid, if I were you,

I'd lay off the races.

That's the sucker's end of the racket.

All right, so maybe I'm losing

a customer.

But you're the kind of guy that's always

on the prowl for a fast buck.

And you're not going to make it

off the ponies.

How do you know? I might hit a streak.

Other guys have.

You're still taking the odds, Mal.

You ought to be able to turn a buck on

the side if you really need money.

Lend me a nickel, will you?

Here you are working for peanuts.

When you got something up there

that's worth a million bucks.

Yeah?

Anytime you figure a way I can

put it in the bank, I'll believe it.

You could be rolling in dough.

You got a know-how with

telephones and electronics

that's worth plenty to the right guy.

Dames, clothes, automobiles,

You could have anything you want, kid,

if you knew the right guy.

You said that before.

I know the right guy, Mal.

He needs help.

So why shouldn't you be the guy

that makes the buck?

His name is Vince Wallace.

He runs the Tri-State Press.

I'll give you a run down on him

in a minute.

I want to get your bet in

before post time.

Hello, Moe?

Chippie.

What's the last post

for the sixth at Aubrey?

4:
20?

Five to win on Big Day for Mal G.

Yeah, that's all.

Well, now that I owe you another fin,

I guess I have to listen to you.

All right, what is it that I've got that

this Wallace can't leave alone?

This Tri-State is a wire service.

It furnishes bookmakers with

all the dope for every race.

Direct from the track.

Would you like to see how

the other half lives?

Yeah.

Hey.

Are they kidding?

BE FREE:

OF WORRY:

Hello, Jake.

-Hi.

Got a man for the golden furnace.

-OK.

I tell you the wire broke down.

Can I help it if we were late

with the prices?

Nothing but beefs.

Half the time they're so drunk

you don't know what race is going.

What can I do for you, Chippie?

-Nothing.

We're gonna do something for you.

This is Mal Granger, Vince Wallace.

-How are you?

Mal's with the telephone company.

He's smart and knows electronics.

Telephone company, huh?

-Yeah.

I'm glad to know you Granger.

Can I buy you a drink?

-No thanks. I don't drink in the daytime

I get into enough trouble without it.

Don't let him kid you.

Aside from liking the ponies,

Mal's a steady citizen.

I'm glad you came, Granger.

Ever seen a layout like this before?

-No.

I'll show you around.

A bookmaker can't exist

without race results.

Right now the only wire service in town

is my outfit.

You see that telegraph key?

That's the backbone of the whole racket.

You see, my wire service is legitimate.

There's no law against selling

this information to anybody.

Those guys are talking to

bookmakers right now.

That's live dope.

We charge them plenty.

They get a running description

of everything

that's taking place at all the tracks.

The last odds, jockey changes,

scratches, post and off time,

the actual running of the race

and the results.

All with split second timing.

Of course, some of the tracks

don't help us any but...

We've got ways of getting

the information out

whether they like it or not.

I get it.

But if it was my outfit, I wouldn't want

to rely on a one lung setup like this.

Too many things can go wrong.

You're telling me.

Come on back to the office a minute.

Close the door, Chippie.

What I want to do is expand.

That's where the real gravy lies.

Let me show you something.

Right now, there isn't a bigger outfit

in the whole state.

So, the first guy that comes along

and gives bang up results

is gonna make a hat full.

There are hundreds of bookmakers

in every one of these towns.

Los Angeles, San Francisco, Oakland,

Sacramento, Stockton, Fresno, San Diego.

Are you really hep to electronics?

I know what I'm doing.

What I need is a way to

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Richard English

Richard Ludlow English, (born 1963) is a historian from Northern Ireland. He was born in Belfast. His father, Donald English (1930–1998) was a prominent Methodist preacher. He studied as an undergraduate at Keble College, Oxford, and subsequently at Keele University, where he was awarded a PhD in History. He was first employed by the Politics Department at Queen's University Belfast in 1990 and became a professor in 1999. He briefly left Queen's University Belfast for the University of St Andrews, but returned as Pro-Vice Chancellor for Internationalisation and Engagement in 2016. more…

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