Okay, Shroder doesn't look twelve, but pretty close. That isn't the problem. The film has a kind of shoddy look to it, mainly due to the photography and wardrobe. Ricky Shroder is a nice guy but not the most convincing of actors. The scenes on the battleship were shot aboard the North Carolina, a relic moored on the Cape Fear River.
Some of the performances are quite good, particularly my own as the hobo snoring on the stairs who must be stepped over by Shroder and his friend. I thought my imitation of waking up was superb. As with too many true stories though, this one doesn't follow a tight enough narrative line. It's not linear, not "fictional" enough. There are three main narrative threads -- Calvin's dysfunctional family life, his unlawful enlistment in the Navy, and his abuse in the brig -- and they don't always mesh together as well as they might.
In real life, Calvin's service to his country was acknowledged finally, long after the events themselves took place. But, as with all autobiographical material, the story as we see it depends largely on his description of what happened. Was he really raped in the brig? Jailhouse rape was a shocker thirty years ago when situational homosexuality in prison was first acknowledged, but by now we've come to expect scenes like that. A shipmate of mine once spent some time in the Marine Brig. Unless brigs have changed a great deal, inmates didn't get raped in the 1940s. It's not like Sing Sing! They can very easily get beaten up and subject to other verbal and physical abuse, but not raped.
Be that as it may, this script could have used a bit of tightening. It rambles around, rather slowly at times, and doesn't exactly enthrall the viewer, except for the performers playing the hobos. One of them is simply sublime.