Cannery Row

Cannery Row has never been like anywhere else.

For one thing, its people are different.

When the town died off most of them failed to notice.

Some say nobody would live here if they didn't have to.

But there are some, like The Seer,

who wouldn't live anywhere else

even if they could.

Of all the people on Cannery Row,

Doc is probably the best known.

He makes as good a living as he needs

by collecting marine animals and selling them

to colleges and museums.

Over the years, Doc became a pillar of the community

and its fountain of science and philosophy.

He had friends he didn't even know about.

And some he would never forget.

Friends like Mack and the boys.

Mack is the elder and leader

of a small group of men who have in common

no families, no money, and no ambition

beyond the time to discuss matters of interest

but little importance.

The youngest, and by far the strongest of the group

is Hazel.

A childhood illness was said to have left him

with slightly diminished mental capacity.

As a result, he had the mind of a small boy

grafted to the body of a bull.

Oh, come on, Hazel.

Don't be such a big scared y-cat.

Get in there.

Hey, Mack?

Oh, what is it, Hazel?

Uh, Mack, last night, uh,

you said you was gonna lead us in some exercise.

And you said we was getting all out of shape

by living this high on the hog.

- I said that? - Yeah, that's right.

- That's right, Mack. - Yeah. Yeah.

Jesus, I must've been drunk as hell.

Uh, well, come on, Mack, uh-huh, we waiting on you.

Here we go.

Come on, Mack.

I'm ready.

Okay, Mack.

Hey. Let's go.

All right, you ready?

- Yeah. - Let's get going.

Touch your toes!

Swing your hips!

Jumping jacks!

- Good. - Damn.

Hey, Mack?

Look, I gotta go to La Jolla for a couple a days.

Feed the mice for me, will you?

There's cold beer in the refrigerator if you want some.

Oh, don't worry about the mice, Doc.

Me and the boys will take care of it.

- Okay. - Have a nice trip, Doc.

Doc's a hell of a guy, you know.

Give you anything he's got.

A hell of a guy.

We ought to do something nice for him sometime.

Yet despite the esteem in which he was held,

Doc was not fully content.

Lately, he'd been afflicted with a gnawing restlessness.

A sense of something unfulfilled.

And so he planned a collecting trip hoping,

the way a man will,

to smother his unease with activity.

At first, he turned up very little.

But by the third day his luck began to change.

Under the boulders of the intertidal zone,

he found eight baby octopi.

It was a little bonanza for him, if he could keep them alive.

The next few days he dedicated himself

to building an octopus world

within walls of glass,

trying to anticipate every octopus need

and eliminate every octopus danger.

Uh, Doc...

I got something important

to talk to you about.

How much do you need, Mack?

Two bucks.

Here.

Take it out of that, Mack.

Just like that? Well, what about my story?

What story?

Well, I had this story about why I needed two bucks

but you didn't give me a chance to do it.

You don't need a story, Mack.

Well, the hell I don't!

I mean, you know, I worked all night on the damn thing.

You know, Hazel cried when I tried it on him.

You see, I got this aunt in Salinas.

She lost both husbands in the flood and...

I didn't know you had an aunt in Salinas, Mack.

I don't have an aunt in Salinas, for Christ sakes.

That's the Goddamn story.

Look, Doc, wh-wh-what is the matter with you?

I got a problem, Mack.

How in the hell am I going to light 'em?

Light what?

The octopi.

The octopi are afraid of light.

Now how in the hell am I gonna get enough light in there

without driving 'em under cover?

Why don't you just give up?

Oh, Mack, wait a minute, octopi are fascinating creatures.

You see, they have emotional states

that are roughly like our own.

They'll show fear, anger, excitement,

all by color changes in their bodies.

I'll be damned.

Unfortunately, I'm gonna need a wide-angle binocular scope.

- A what? - Binocular scope.

"Binocular scope.”

Even if I do get the light right, how am I gonna...

Doc, Doc, Doc. Look at me, Doc.

I... I... It's me, Mack, your friend.

Now, what's been wrong with you past couple of days?

This is the fifth time you've redone this tank.

Oh, I'm all right, Mack.

Really.

I just need to do something

different for a change.

- Something of value, maybe. - What the hell for?

You ain't done nothing up to now. Nobody's complaining.

Well, that's just the point, Mack.

A man oughta make a mark even if it's a scribble, shouldn't he?

Hell, every year, you know,

I go up to the Congress of Marine Biologists

in San Francisco.

Every year, I've got to listen to a bunch of Goddamn guys

reciting papers on all the dandy stuff they know.

Well, hell, this year they're gonna sit through

a paper of my own for a change.

I know these animals as well as anybody.

I ought to be able to find out something about them

that's worth knowing.

I think I'll call my paper...

"Symptoms...

in some Cephalopoda...

approximating apoplexy.”

Afternoon, angel. What can I get you?

Oh, nothing, I was wondering,

do you know of any work around here?

Not offhand. Hasn't been much since the canneries were closed.

They're not any of them running?

I mean, this is Cannery Row, isn't it?

Yeah, and we still got plenty of cans to prove it.

All we don't got is any sardines to put in 'em.

They all disappeared a couple years ago.

Well, what happened to 'em?

A lot of people like to know that.

Personally, I think they just fished 'em all out.

You know, I ain't the expert.

Now nothing much happens

until Mack and the boys from Fort Ord come over.

Do you think I can leave this suitcase here

for a while while I look around?

Sure. I'll put it back of the counter.

Thanks. Oh, what if you're off shift

by the time I get back?

Honey, I ain't never off shift.

Thanks.

- Bye! - Bye!

Would you like some salami with that?

I'm sorry, |-I didn't know this was your bag.

Oh, it's all right.

You're welcome to anything in it.

You've had a rotten day.

What makes you say that?

I can't help it. I'm a seer.

It's my business to know these things.

I live alone.

I listen to the sound of the waves at night.

I follow the moon through the pines

and in the depth of my solitude, I see visions.

Anyone would.

Is there anything I can help you with?

I guess you just expect me to believe all this?

Oh, I don't expect anything.

I don't need anything.

My friends above provide me with food and lodging.

After you've had something to eat, come on in for a swim.

It'll make you feel better.

No, thanks, I... I've gotta be going.

Besides, I don't even know how to swim.

I don't either.

I just go in up to my chest.

- So long. - So long.

Hi, I'd like to speak with the manager, please.

Sure. Come on in.

The oyster fork goes on the left

next to the salad fork.

- This way. - Like hell!

Fauna says it goes on the right,

between the cheese knife and the soup spoon.