All Through The Night (1942)

All Through The Night (1942) is a comedic espionage hunted man anti-Nazi propaganda gambling and screwball influenced thriller directed by Vincent Sherman and starring an interestingly familiar film noir cast including Humphrey Bogart, Peter Lorrie, Kaaren Verne, Barton MacLane and Conrad Veidt, who played many a Nazi across the course of the 1940s espionage noir cycles of film.

Made before the bombing of Pearl Harbour and released after it, All Through The Night (1942) plays upon ideas of a simpler sort, funning up the World War a little, and a little too late in the day for comfort.

But as an archetypal hunted man anti-Nazi noir thriller, it is near perfect, a production driven notably to the odd side of the tracks, with its quickfire blend of screwball dialogue and film noir aspect. The two should not and do not often go together, but where screwball and film noir collide, we often stop to gawk in curiosity.

Screwball ain't a Bogart thing, and never was. A participant in this movie, Humphrey Bogart provides his character and presence, one of the most watchable figures of the forties. He is part straight man to the antic havoc of the rest of this ensemble monster of a movie, and at times he is the hardboiled noir type, even fighting and enacting other tough guy habits, at times.

The combination of Nazis and screwball is even more strained, but forties USA did always present the Nazis as guignol-esque teutonic mornonic evil doers, with no humour and some rather angular postures, salutes and intentions.

Dan Hodges argues that the iconic status of the private eye in film noir is overstated, particularly during the years 1940-1944. He points out that during World War II, the hunted man in film noirs is typically a private citizen, not a private detective. This shift is due to the nature of the plots during this period, which often involve puzzles and false accusations of murder. The private citizen, often aided by a working woman, is more suitable for these narratives as they work together to clear his name.



This screwball noir fare is something of a twist upon this twist, and All Through The Night (1942), although not having much in terms of classic noir merit, does appear to be rich in the tropes, styles and actors of the medium. Names not tagged in this article include:

Hodges notes that the private detective becomes more prominent after WWII but quickly fades from the genre. This decline is attributed to the rarity of puzzles in postwar film noir plots, where the hunted individuals are usually known to be guilty by both the audience and their pursuers. Consequently, the focus shifts to professional law enforcement, often federal or state, rather than local private eyes.

The absence of private detectives in early 1940s film noirs is explained by the appropriateness of private citizens as protagonists. These characters, falsely accused of murder, require allies to prove their innocence, often teaming up with women who help them identify the real killers. 



Peter Lorre in All Through The Night (1942)

This dynamic aligns with the political context of the time, where the U.S. was threatened by the Axis powers. The hunted man narrative promises that unaided individuals can triumph over large organizations and conspiracies, a message that resonates with democratic ideals.

During the war years, the threat to the hunted man in film noirs is often a prison sentence rather than a national threat. However, the political message that private citizens can triumph is strongly conveyed when the hunted man and a working-class woman clear his name and become a romantic couple. This narrative reflects the real-life efforts of private citizens in the armed forces and factories, contributing to the war effort.


Hodges emphasizes that during WWII, the hunted man's success is personal but also serves as a displacement for the promise of victory by civilians against the Axis. In this historical context, the private eye is not suitable as the hunted man, leading to their absence in film noir during nearly all of WWII. The private citizen, with their relatable struggles and triumphs, becomes the more appropriate protagonist for these wartime narratives.




Sop yes, indeed, Vincent Sherman’s film All Through The Night (1942) is an intriguing blend of comedy, noir, and wartime propaganda, featuring an impressive array of character actors and comedians. The movie stands out for its unique cast and fast-paced storyline, capturing a lively yet thrilling tone just before the historical backdrop of Pearl Harbor. 

Centered in New York City, the narrative follows Humphrey Bogart as Gloves Donahue, a small-time gangster with a soft spot for cheesecake and a knack for gambling. The tale kicks off when his favourite baker is found murdered, propelling Gloves and his colourful entourage into a web of espionage and danger.

More bizarre yet is the stacking of the unlikely upon these contingencies, and All Through The Night (1942) stacks up an impressive set of varied scenes, including one reminiscent of The 39 Steps trope in which the hunted man has to address a room impromptu, when Humphrey Bogart is at the 1 hour 30 mark mistaken for a Nazi and has to give a progress report on the Nazification of Chicago, and how the Reich is faring in taking over his wee quadrant of Liberty.

We should treasure this moment but we don't. Humphrey Bogart is as good as comedy as the next actor, and the comedy bar is not so high in the fast moving screwball forties, and all he needs to do is humiliate the super-serious and threatening Nazis a bit, which he does with all-American candour. 



Simply one of the most supreme of the Hollywood industry's comedic tropes, as the idiot herd of fascists can be fooled easily into thinking these obvious clowns are their own. It's a great scene.

One of the recurring comedic elements is the Running Gag of Barney complaining about being kept from returning home to his wife, humorously highlighting his perpetual frustration. The film also employs False Reassurance for dark comedic effect, such as when Sunshine casually informs Gloves that his friend, who had his skull cracked, is "fine"—because he’s dead.

Physical comedy is another hallmark of the film, as seen in The Glasses Come Off. When Sunshine and a waiter (Phil Silvers) nearly fight, the waiter removes his glasses but immediately becomes disoriented, exclaiming, “Where is everybody?” The plot also includes moments of intuition, such as Gloves' mother’s Gut Feeling that Leda knows something suspicious, prompting her to follow Leda to the nightclub—a sentiment the film validates as crucial to the unfolding events.






Character transformations, such as Madame’s Heel–Face Turn after Ebbing slaps her, deepen the narrative by introducing redemption. The film also features classic suspense tactics, like Holding the Floor, where Gloves impersonates another character at Ebbing’s meeting, stalling with double-talk until reinforcements arrive. 

Finally, Gloves delivers a quintessential line of self-awareness when he tells Mrs. Donahue, “I’m a promoter, Ma, not J. Edgar Hoover,” humorously addressing the absurdity of his current predicament.

December 7, 1941. The day peace shattered into the chaos of war. Bombs whistled from the sky, and terror exploded over Pearl Harbor. Witnesses painted the scene in vivid dread: flames licking the heavens, men screaming as they flew through the fire, swallowed by smoke and never seen again. It was the day America woke up to a war that had already consumed the world.

The ripple effects hit every corner of life. Paul Fussell later remarked that the war didn’t just destroy bodies and cities; it crushed intellect, irony, and individuality. Privacy and wit were casualties too. It was a cultural gut-punch that mirrored what French critics found so unnervingly familiar in American film noir. 


Life under war’s shadow wasn’t just ration books and shortages. It was a psychological grind—fear, violence, and the gnawing uncertainty that colored every aspect of daily existence.

The war’s fingerprints were everywhere. Economically, socially, culturally—nothing escaped. American industry shifted gears, churning out weapons and ammunition with an efficiency born of desperation. Millions of men marched off to fight, while women flooded factories to keep the war machine humming. 

The result? A surge of military personnel and a grim statistic: nearly 300,000 American dead, with twice as many wounded. William Styron captured the carnage when he wrote of his college peers dying like ants in Normandy, their Phi Beta Kappa keys clutched alongside the rifle triggers that failed to save them.


And then there was Raymond Chandler, soaking in Los Angeles like whiskey on cracked ice. Writing Farewell, My Lovely during the war years, he confessed that the effort to escape thoughts of the battlefield left him mentally frayed. 

“The distant flashes of insect wings in a clouded sunlight” was all he could cling to. Chandler described California as a land of contradictions—a harsh, sage-scented paradise that left him both in love and out of place. Man, the West Coast goes dark.


Los Angeles, glittering heart of Hollywood, dimmed to black in the aftermath of Pearl Harbor. Panic spread like wildfire. Talk of Japanese attacks on the West Coast stirred hysteria, and suddenly the city that never slept was plunged into silence and darkness. Blackouts gripped the Pacific coastline, sirens screamed through the night, and anti-aircraft guns fired blindly at imagined threats. Cop-turned-mayor Tom Bradley recalled the chaos: “No enemy in sight, but someone thought they saw one. They were shooting at random.”

On December 11, 1941, the Los Angeles Times captured the mood with a front-page headline: “LOS ANGELES BLACKED OUT.” A ghostly photo showed a city swallowed in darkness, Broadway reduced to streaks of faint car lights and faintly glowing shop signs that hadn’t yet been extinguished. 
The report declared, “This is not a practice blackout.” The fear was real, the confusion palpable.


False reports of bombings turned into real sightings of Japanese submarines patrolling just miles from California’s coast. Shots were fired, fishing boats targeted, oil refineries shelled. A Santa Barbara refinery burned, and bombs floated ashore, igniting forest fires. The public was gripped by paranoia, and xenophobia spread like a virus. Japanese Americans and residents were rounded up, victims of a nation consumed by fear.


The war left its mark on Tinseltown too. Hollywood went dark, its bright lights snuffed out by wartime precautions. Blackouts and air-raid drills became the new normal. The fear of spies and saboteurs added to the anxiety, fueling a palpable tension in a city accustomed to projecting fantasy, not living in fear. Films reflected this undercurrent, feeding audiences a mix of propaganda and noir, shadowed by the realities of a world at war.


Raymond Chandler’s words captured the unease that had settled like smog over Los Angeles. The desert harshness, the ever-present tension—it all bled into the city’s creative output. The glamorous glow of the silver screen dimmed, replaced by the stark chiaroscuro of film noir, where heroes stumbled in the dark and morality was as slippery as the shadows that swallowed them. 

If war was a crucible, Hollywood became its dark mirror, reflecting the fractured psyche of a nation bracing itself for the unknown.



All Through The Night (1942)

All of which rolled up to the smoke filled theaters of excitement, romance and comedy noir with the following ultimate teaser tags and taunts of challenge to ticket-purchase:

What Excitement! Gangdom's toughest killer leads his mob against the most murderous mugs of all!

All Bogey wants is a little peace. And a large piece of cheesecake.

HE'S GUNNING AFTER THE GESTAPO! Man,what a brawl! As the Underworld's Trigger-Men Gang Up on the Gestapo! 

GANGDOM GANGS UP ON THE GESTAPO! 



KILLER BOGART Better than ever before! 

A HEART-TO-HEART BATTLE...of brawn and...beauty! 

Gangdom vs. the Gestapo It's a shooting-battle royal with thrills flying as fast as bullets! Boy what a brawl! 

Killer Bogart takes the Gestapo for a ride!

Gangdom turns its gats on the Gestapo

Gloves, brilliantly portrayed by Bogart, is joined by a remarkable supporting cast. Among them are Jackie Gleason, William Demarest, Phil Silvers, and Frank McHugh. Their chemistry brings a Runyon-esque charm to the screen, imbuing the film with humor and camaraderie. The interplay between these actors is a testament to their comedic prowess, adding a layer of entertainment even as the plot delves into serious wartime themes.


Despite its many flaws, the studio system allowed talent cultivation and assembling impressive casts, as seen in this Warner Bros. picture starring Humphrey Bogart. After finding initial success in "The Petrified Forest," Bogart struggled in bizarre roles such as in "Swing Your Lady" and "The Return of Doctor X." 

However, his career skyrocketed with leading roles in "High Sierra," "The Maltese Falcon," and "Casablanca." Released in 1942, "All Through the Night" fits snugly into this period of Bogart's ascension.

The film boasts an outstanding supporting cast, including Conrad Veidt, who escaped Nazi Germany to become a star in the English-speaking world, notably starring opposite Bogart in "Casablanca." Peter Lorre, another escapee from the Nazi regime, became a Hollywood star after starting his career in Fritz Lang’s "M" and working with Alfred Hitchcock in "The Man Who Knew Too Much." 



Lorre's role here adds to the film's weight, given his established stature in American cinema.

Kaaren Verne, the film's leading lady, also escaped Nazi Europe and found success in Hollywood, performing in anti-Nazi films like "Sky Murder" and "Underground," both precursors to "All Through the Night." The film also features familiar Warner Bros. faces like Frank McHugh, Barton MacLane, Edward Brophy, and Judith Anderson, along with William Demarest and Sam McDaniel.

Notably, the film includes Phil Silvers and Jackie Gleason, then relatively unknown comics, adding to the film's eclectic and robust cast. This blend of talent underscores the studio system’s ability to bring together remarkable actors, despite its many shortcomings.







The murder of the baker, a seemingly trivial event, unravels into a complex spy story. It leads Gloves to a sinister ring of Nazi operatives, headed by the menacing Conrad Veidt. Veidt’s portrayal of the Nazi antagonist is chillingly effective, particularly given his own history of fleeing from Nazi Germany. 

Judith Anderson, alongside her dachshund Hansel and the enigmatic Peter Lorre, further adds to the film’s dark and suspenseful atmosphere. Lorre’s dual role as a pianist and a spy provides an intriguing twist, enhancing the narrative’s depth.

Despite its noir and espionage undertones, “All Through the Night” manages to infuse humor throughout. One memorable scene has Bogart and Demarest masquerading as Nazis, a moment that highlights the film’s satirical edge. 

The film cleverly critiques Nazi ambitions, suggesting their threat extends far beyond a few European countries. As a piece of wartime propaganda, it skillfully balances its message with entertainment, ensuring it resonates with its audience while maintaining a lighthearted tone.

The film’s effectiveness lies not only in its engaging plot and stellar cast but also in its ability to deliver serious messages with a sense of fun. Sherman’s direction ensures that the narrative never feels too heavy, despite the looming threat of war. 

The comedic timing and interactions among the characters keep the audience entertained, making the film more palatable as a propaganda piece.

Bogart’s performance is particularly noteworthy. He brings a no-nonsense charm to Gloves, capturing both the character’s toughness and his underlying decency. His interactions with McHugh, Gleason, and Demarest are delightful, showcasing his versatility in handling both comedic and dramatic scenes. The film also provides a glimpse of a young, slender Jackie Gleason, adding a touch of nostalgia for contemporary viewers.






"All Through the Night" was filmed before the attack on Pearl Harbor, reflecting a different American attitude toward the Nazis. Rather than a serious confrontation, the film takes a comedic approach, with scenes like Gloves and Sunshine, played by Humphrey Bogart and William Demarest, beating up Nazi saboteurs and infiltrating a secret Nazi meeting. The humor peaks when Gloves is asked to deliver a report on mines, resulting in a farcical exchange with "Heil!" as a recurring punchline.

Despite the comedic tone, the characters do take their mission seriously. As they dig deeper into their amateur investigation, they uncover more about German duplicity, leading to an awakening. This is highlighted by a character urging Gloves to focus on significant issues rather than trivial ones. 

The film culminates OBVIOUSLY in Gloves delivering a passionate speech to fellow gamblers, warning them about the Nazis' plans to take over the country and control every aspect of their lives, from what they eat to the morning paper they read. The response, "That’s unconstitutional," adds a layer of irony to the situation.

Bosley Crowther, in his review for The New York Times, criticized the film's far-fetched plot, questioning how such an elaborate enemy scheme could be overlooked by the FBI and left to a semi-gangster to resolve. However, the film isn't about the FBI but rather about New Yorkers stepping up to defend their city. This sentiment is echoed in another Bogart film, "Casablanca," where Rick Blaine dismisses the idea of Nazis invading New York with a witty remark.


Overall, "All Through the Night" uses humor and a light-hearted approach to deliver its anti-Nazi message. While it may not be a classic, the film's comedic elements, combined with its star-studded cast and spirited dialogue, make it an enjoyable watch. The portrayal of ordinary New Yorkers taking on Nazi spies adds a unique twist to the wartime narrative, reflecting the era's blend of seriousness and levity.

The interplay between Veidt and Anderson is another highlight. Their scenes exude a film noir quality, adding a layer of sophistication to the film’s villainy. Veidt’s commitment to his roles, despite his personal disdain for the characters he portrayed, adds authenticity to his performance. Anderson’s presence further elevates these moments, her commanding screen presence making her a formidable counterpart to Veidt.


All Through the Night, a super satisfying comedy film noir adventure is a captivating blend of comedy, noir, and wartime propaganda. Its preposterous plot elements, such as English-written notes found in a Nazi’s desk, add to its charm rather than detract from it. 

The film succeeds in delivering a serious message about the Nazi threat while ensuring that audiences are thoroughly entertained. Bogart’s stellar performance, along with the excellent supporting cast, makes this film a standout piece from the era, resonating with viewers even today.

All Through the Night (1942)

Directed by Vincent Sherman

Genres - Action-Adventure, Comedy, Crime, Drama, Thriller  |   Sub-Genres - Comedy Thriller  |   Release Date - Jan 10, 1942  |   Run Time - 107 min.