We're No Angels (1955)

We're No Angels (1955) is a Michael Curtiz Humphrey Bogart and Peter Ustinov and Aldo Ray Christmas themed inappropriate island based prison break comedy in full studio colour as the trio fun and blunder through some uncanny voyeuristic crapulent more than semi-sexist kind of misery as comedy experience as they play three escapees from Devil's Island, the penal colony of Cayenne (French: Bagne de Cayenne), commonly known as Île du Diable, which was a French penal colony that operated for 100 years, from 1852 to 1952, and officially closed in 1953, in the Salvation Islands of French Guiana.

Which year this Christmas bundle was supposed to have been rollin is a thing we know exactly, it was Christmas Eve 1895, and based on a play, and obviously it was an incredible night at the theatre to see three men crowding a sky light in a stage flat, just a looking through and spying on the women, and the men of course too, there is a bit of men spying on men too.

Great effect on the stage, you can picture it, you can picture how good it is because they re created it for a film, this film, the film that is based on a play, and you can take a look at the play.

It's all much loved of the Films Set on Devil's Island Wikipedia page as well, answering the question, what is funny about Devil's Island, and in 1895? And are there any efforts beyond the men's names to make them French, or sound French and especially not to pronounce French, beyond having French names, I think that is well worth investigating with a film like this.

Michael Curtiz’s 1955 comedy, We're No Angels, occupies a curious yet charming position within the broader scope of American cinema, skillfully blending comedic elements with the darker sensibilities of film noir. Originating from a French stage play, Curtiz’s adaptation remains theatrical, though meticulously paced to heighten intrigue and anticipation. This theatrical heritage emerges clearly through its confined setting and dialogue-driven narrative, yet Curtiz manages to transform these potential constraints into cinematic strengths, crafting a film rich with wit and understated satire.

At its core, the film is anchored by the performances of Humphrey Bogart, Peter Ustinov, and Aldo Ray, a trio of convicts who escape Devil’s Island shortly before Christmas. The convicts, initially motivated by theft, inadvertently become guardian angels to a struggling middle-class family, led by the hapless Felix Ducotel (Leo G. Carroll). Each convict is vividly characterized, yet their interactions transcend individual performances, creating a harmonious ensemble wherein each actor elevates the other's performance. Bogart, in particular, delivers a career-defining turn, subtly parodying his well-established tough-guy persona while maintaining a compelling screen presence.

Humphrey Bogart's willingness to subvert his own image underscores his artistic integrity and daring. Known primarily for gritty, serious roles in films like The Maltese Falcon (1941) and Casablanca (1942), Bogart, by delivering absurdist lines such as, "We'll bash their skulls, gouge their eyes, then slit their throats, but first we'll do the dishes," humorously challenges his established screen identity. This deliberate shift in persona reflects an actor secure enough to risk audience expectations for artistic experimentation, thereby enriching his cinematic legacy.

Peter Ustinov's idiosyncratic and delightfully nuanced performance further illuminates the film's charm. Despite his then-relative obscurity, Ustinov confidently holds his ground opposite Bogart, displaying an intricate repertoire of subtle physical comedy and rapid-fire wit. Such casting risks, sadly rare in contemporary cinema, were essential to the vibrant dynamism of 1950s Hollywood, reflecting a cultural landscape more receptive to innovation.

The narrative's critique of class and capitalist exploitation aligns with mid-1950s American socio-political anxieties. The characters Andre and Paul, wealthy and morally corrupt, represent broader societal critiques of the wealthy elite’s exploitation of middle-class vulnerability. 

The biting satire portrays capitalist systems as fundamentally rigged, embodied vividly in the convicts' mock tribunal against these affluent oppressors. This kangaroo court sequence underscores the moral hypocrisy inherent in post-war American society, a reflection on the anxieties around economic disparity prevalent in the postwar era.

The never to be examined without horror in this case feminist analytical lens, however, looking at it when it is never meant to be looked at We're No Angels offers a problematic depiction of its female characters in one sense but why blame the women, the problematics are of course male.

Joan Bennett and Gloria Talbott, playing Ducotel’s wife and daughter respectively, are largely passive figures whose narrative arcs depend predominantly on male intervention. The daughter’s frequent fainting and objectification by Aldo Ray’s character highlight troubling aspects of mid-century gender norms, where women are rendered as delicate objects requiring rescue, reinforcing patriarchal ideals.

Yet, despite these gendered limitations, the film successfully blends sharp comedic dialogue with darkly comic elements characteristic of film noir traditions. Its thematic exploration of morality, guilt, and redemption, alongside its noir-esque use of moral ambiguity, situates it squarely within noir’s expansive boundaries. The presence of moral transgressors as protagonists, complex ethical landscapes, and the underlying threat of violence all echo classic noir tropes, effectively interwoven with comedic relief, illustrating noir's versatility and adaptability.

These noir and not noir rave silver screeners are the apogee hits best once and for all although entirely negotiable subject to research listing of the massive and best Christmas movies of the 1940s:

Beyond Tomorrow (1940)

The Blue Bird (1940)

Remember the Night (1940)

The Shop Around The Corner (1940)

Meet John Doe (1941)

Holiday Inn (1942)

The Man Who Came to Dinner (1942)

Christmas Holiday (1944)

Going My Way (1944)

I'll Be Seeing You (1944)

Meet Me in St. Louis (1944)

The Miracle of Morgan's Creek (1944)

The Bells of St. Mary's (1945)

Christmas in Connecticut (1945)

The Cheaters (1945)

It's a Wonderful Life (1946)

Never Say Goodbye (1946)

Christmas Eve (1947)

It Happened on 5th Avenue (1947)

Lady in the Lake (1947)

Miracle on 34th Street (1947)

The Bishop's Wife (1947)

3 Godfathers (1948)

Good Sam (1948)

Cover Up (1949)

Holiday Affair (1949)

Mr. Soft Touch (1949)

Historically contextualized, and then contextualised historically, 1955 was marked by significant sociopolitical shifts in the United States, with post-war prosperity juxtaposed against Cold War anxieties. This film’s subtle satire and ethical complexity resonate deeply with the contradictions of American life in this period, reflecting tensions between consumerist optimism and lingering societal inequities.

Released in the same year as notable civil rights movements, such as the Montgomery Bus Boycott, We're No Angels subtly addresses ethical justice and critiques structural inequalities, albeit cloaked in comedic storytelling.

Furthermore, the film exemplifies the broader American cinematic tradition of employing humor and satire to critique societal norms. Its comedic presentation masks deeper interrogations of morality, class exploitation, and societal corruption, traits frequently employed by American filmmakers to explore complex issues without alienating mainstream audiences.

Flashing in your laughing face in the lobby to stretch the comedic credibility and indeed credulity was the following teaser tagline:

A strangler... A swindler... A safecracker... Yet you'll love them!

The inclusion of Basil Rathbone, famously associated with the character Sherlock Holmes, further enriches the film’s subversive qualities. Rathbone, cast as the morally bankrupt business magnate Andre Trochard, contrasts sharply with his usual heroic roles. His villainous portrayal cleverly satirizes corporate greed, evoking Charles Dickens’s Scrooge, thereby enhancing the film's thematic complexity.

Moreover, the Christmas setting offers a symbolic backdrop reinforcing themes of redemption and moral awakening. Like the biblical Three Wise Men, Bogart, Ustinov, and Ray bestow metaphorical gifts upon the Ducotel family, providing salvation from economic ruin. The inversion of traditional Christmas narratives underscores the film’s satirical edge, portraying societal outsiders as morally superior to their supposedly respectable counterparts.

Curtiz’s cinematic techniques, particularly his dynamic staging and adept handling of comedic timing, significantly contribute to the film's enduring charm. Scenes in the bustling port town are visually vibrant, highlighting Curtiz's ability to render stage-bound narratives into visually compelling cinema. This transformative direction, coupled with deft comedic performances, ensures sustained narrative momentum.

The lasting appeal of We're No Angels is evidenced by its continued cultural resonance, demonstrated by its periodic revival and reinterpretation in various forms, including a significantly less successful 1989 remake. The original film's precise balance of humor, social critique, and noir elements explains its sustained status as a beloved classic, offering audiences an enduringly witty and insightful commentary on human nature and social ethics.

We're No Angels occupies a distinctive position within the American cinematic tradition, representing a sophisticated interplay of comedy, noir sensibilities, and subtle social critique. Through daring casting choices, intelligent satire, and a meticulous balance of genre conventions, Curtiz crafted a timelessly engaging film. Its enduring popularity serves as testament to the potency of intelligent comedy as both entertainment and social commentary, ensuring its place as a valued artifact within the broader history of American cinema.

Whoever claimed that Humphrey Bogart lacked the ability for comedic roles had clearly overlooked Michael Curtiz's delightful 1955 film, We're No Angels. Positioned uniquely in Bogart's illustrious career, typically dominated by gritty, tough-guy roles in films like High Sierra and The Maltese Falcon, this lighthearted yet subversive comedy portrays a surprising, whimsical Bogart. 

The film follows Joseph (Bogart), Albert (Aldo Ray), and Jules (Peter Ustinov)—three convicts who have fled the notorious Devil’s Island penitentiary. Initially planning to rob and perhaps even murder the Ducotel family who run a modest general store, the trio unexpectedly evolves into guardian figures, compelled by their growing fondness for the family’s genuine kindness and warmth.

Welcoming you to the show in the usual manner was the flasher of a striking corker of a teaser tag

Bogart’s Joseph is especially fascinating, allowing the actor to break from his established mold, offering dry wit and a subtle comedic charisma. His chemistry with Peter Ustinov’s mild-mannered Jules serves as a cornerstone for much of the film’s humour. Ustinov, known widely for his role in Quo Vadis (1951) and later in crime mysteries, is remarkably adept at comedic timing, bringing a gentleness that offsets Bogart's rough exterior. 

Their banter, often acerbic yet tender beneath the surface, creates enduringly humorous scenarios, memorably demonstrated in Bogart's amusingly incongruous donning of a pink apron. Such comedic inversions cleverly subvert Bogart’s masculine image, enriching the film’s appeal.

Aldo Ray, the least effective among the leads, admittedly struggles to match the veteran presence of Bogart and Ustinov. His character, however, does provide the essential narrative device—Adolphe, the poisonous snake—which acts as an ironic symbol of the trio's underlying threat. Basil Rathbone, famed for his portrayal of Sherlock Holmes, is lamentably underutilized in the role of Cousin Andre, the true antagonist whose villainy serves primarily as a narrative pivot rather than offering Rathbone a substantial characterization.

Indeed what about prison films of the 1940s, this can barely be a complete list of the prison films so-called purported at least of the 1940s:

Boys in Brown (1949)

Brute Force (1947)

Canon City (1948)

City Without Men (1943)

Gallant Lady (1942)

Kiss of Death (1947)

Now Barabbas (1949)

Within These Walls (1945)

Women Without Names (1940)

You Can't Beat the Law (1943)

Historically situated in 1955, the film emerges in the context of postwar America, an era marked by burgeoning suburban comfort yet shadowed by the anxieties of the Cold War. The themes of redemption, kindness, and human compassion in We're No Angels subtly parallel America's optimistic yet cautious mood. 

The convicts' moral transformations resonate with a society itself grappling with shifting notions of good and evil amid a backdrop of geopolitical tension. Furthermore, Curtiz, an immigrant filmmaker best known for directing Casablanca (1942), harnesses his European sensibility to craft humor that blends American optimism with a slightly darker European irony, fitting neatly into the broader narrative of American cinematic history during a transformative decade.

Importantly, the film exists within the broader tradition of film noir, albeit subtly. Although We're No Angels lacks the overt stylistic cues associated with noir, such as shadowy urban landscapes or morally ambiguous protagonists seen in classics like Double Indemnity or Out of the Past, its central premise—escaped convicts navigating their redemption—shares thematic resonance. The film noir tradition often examines characters confined by moral ambiguity, attempting futile escapes from their pasts, and in this sense, Curtiz’s comedic narrative cleverly appropriates noir elements, crafting a playful yet poignant inversion.

Feminist critiques of We're No Angels offer valuable insight, particularly regarding the characterization of female roles, which unfortunately reflect prevalent stereotypes of the period. Isabelle, portrayed by Gloria Talbott, embodies an excessively delicate femininity, often fainting and demonstrating a dependency on male assistance. 

Such portrayals reinforce traditional gender roles by positioning women as passive recipients of male protection and decision-making. Contrastingly, Amelie Ducotel, played by Joan Bennett, though slightly more developed, still primarily occupies a conventional maternal position, her role often relegated to domestic responsibilities and emotional support, reflecting the limited perspectives afforded to women characters in this era.

Beyond these criticisms, however, We're No Angels remains significant within the larger tapestry of American cinema. It reveals an industry in transition, exploring new genres, characters, and stories in the postwar cultural milieu. 

The film’s embrace of humor and redemption against a backdrop of societal anxieties highlights America's broader cultural shift towards complexity and nuance in storytelling, where even traditionally villainous figures are depicted as possessing a capacity for kindness and humanity.

Bogart’s comedic performance in We're No Angels notably broadens perceptions of his acting capabilities, disrupting the stereotypical view of his talents. The film benefits from Curtiz's direction, which adeptly balances the script’s potential sentimentality with sharp wit and situational humor, creating enduring charm. Unlike Bogart’s earlier serious works, such as The African Queen or The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, this film reveals an actor comfortable stepping outside his established persona, ultimately delivering an engaging performance in a genre he seldom explored.

Moreover, the film’s sophisticated interplay among the leads exemplifies classic ensemble acting, suggesting that its appeal lies significantly in the performances rather than its admittedly simple narrative. The narrative simplicity enhances rather than detracts, providing ample room for character-driven humor. Indeed, the film’s enduring popularity as a holiday favorite underscores its emotional resonance and enduring warmth, despite the occasional weaknesses in pacing or minor missteps in casting.

Finally, the broader historical context of We're No Angels situates the film as reflective of a postwar America that cherished narratives of redemption and human goodness, even when presented humorously. In a country reshaped by war, societal expectations, and shifting demographics, films like Curtiz's comedy offer not merely escapism but subtly hopeful visions of humanity's potential for good, regardless of past transgressions. Its understated yet meaningful exploration of moral transformation resonates deeply within American cultural values, explaining its enduring charm and continued relevance.

So in this show of shows of Christmas games, most gaudy of course, find it here, in We're No Angels which is an intelligently humorous film, with Bogart trying it hard and it working well, distinguished by its skilled performances, clever writing, and subtle engagement with serious themes masked beneath comedic elements. 

While not devoid of limitations—particularly in the characterization of women and certain casting decisions—it successfully showcases Humphrey Bogart’s versatility and enriches the comedic canon within American cinema, maintaining a lasting and beloved presence in film history.

We're No Angels (1955)

Directed by Michael Curtiz

Genres - Comedy, Crime, Family, Romance  |   Sub-Genres - Christmas Film  |   Release Date - Jul 7, 1955  |   Run Time - 106 min.  |  

Joseph: We came here to rob them and that's what we're gonna do - beat their heads in, gouge their eyes out, cut their throats. Soon as we wash the dishes.

Albert: If crime showed on a man's face, there wouldn't be any mirrors.

Albert: I read someplace that when a lady faints, you should loosen her clothing.

Joseph: [Sarcastically] It's that kind of reading that got you into trouble.

Albert: What if she knows his handwriting?

Joseph: If you got a beautiful note like this, would you bother comparing signatures?

Albert: No. It'd have to be signed by a girl, though.

Albert: [looking at the Navy officer in full dress whites] I think he looks like a glass of milk.

Joseph: I'll say one thing about prison. You meet a better class of people.