We're No Angels has a promising cast. Humphrey Bogart is back as a criminal, but a much nicer one than he played in The Desperate Hours the year before. Aldo Ray was considered a hot item at the time, and Peter Ustinov tended to brighten any role he was given. Favorites Joan Bennett and Leo G. Carroll are on board along with favorite villain Basil Rathbone. And from the Paramount contract list came Gloria Talbott, a promising fresh face. We're No Angels would seem the kind of foolproof comedy that anybody could make into a great picture. So why is it such a middling performer, with only a couple of laughs?

The answer is the direction, which is too slow and too lazy. Michael Curtiz was once the kind of director who could make any drama exciting, and is the undisputed master of intrigue, romance and action in films as different as The Sea Hawk, Mystery of the Wax Museum, Casablanca and Mildred Pierce. He also did his share of funny comedies, but We're No Angels just has problems. The leisurely pace lets us think too much about the stagebound sets, while the 'stand back and watch' camerawork seems to be following good actors around during a dress rehearsal.

We're far ahead of the story and realize almost immediately that the three supposed killers are really soft-hearted creampuffs, there to help the Ducotel family have a nice Christmas and get rid of their tyrannical relative. There's never any doubt that this will happen, so no suspense or comic tension develops. As the play is clearly written to be a pleasant trifle that's fine, but the criminals are so harmless that an engaging conflict never gets started.

So the movie tries to get by on charm, and ultimately fails even though all the actors have our total approval. There is no real French atmosphere, no period atmosphere and no sense of the Ducotel family's situation being any more poignant than a setup in a W.C. Fields movie. The idea of the 'Angels' learning the family's problem from above while tarring the roof doesn't come off as whimsical or particularly clever. The Christmas Eve charm is labored, with the possible exception of Gloria Talbott's scenes hoping for her big romance to arrive. Albert is clearly supposed to be attracted to her, but the script and direction set that issue aside. Angels and crooks don't have the luxury of getting personally involved.

Perhaps Humphrey Bogart set the tone, wanting to make his forger and book-cooker into a genteel softie. Without sharp direction or sharper wit in the many jokes and asides about dangerous criminals being such gentlemen, the comedy tension just sits there. To work as a black comedy like The Ladykillers, there needs to be at least a hint that Joseph, Albert and Jules might actually turn and cut someone's throat.

Frankly, considering the flatness of most of the comedy, one can almost see the Three Stooges doing a better job. At least it would make comedy sense (slapstick burlesque sense) when nobody seems to notice their moronic antics. There's a comedy disconnect in We're No Angels -- we keep waiting for the Big Joke or some crazy twist, or perhaps for the movie to break out into musical numbers.

A few cute moments in We're No Angels will amuse fans of the stars, mostly Peter Ustinov. Most of the time he's off to one side trying not to mug and take attention away from Bogie, but he has several bits -- opening lockboxes and safes, chuckling to himself -- that inspire genuine mirth. The glorious Joan Bennett is mostly wasted; she and Basil Rathbone were on a steady downward career slide due to the influx of flashier, newer 50s talent. The unkillable Leo G. Carroll would soon begin a second life as a television actor, helped by his showy role in Hitchcock's North by NorthWest. Poor Gloria Talbott's career timing was off. She'd soon disappear into the depths of Allied Artists Z-pix like The Daughter of Dr Jekyll and The Cyclops. Her biggest claim to fame is as the heroic pre-feminist lead in the Science Fiction film I Married a Monster from Outer Space. Those kinds of titles on a resumé weren't considered a good sign in the late 1950s.

The movie ends fairly flatly, never fully coming to terms with our Angels' use of a deadly snake to 'help out' the Ducotels. The lack of a satisfying conclusion makes us wonder if the Ducotels will be charged with murder, simply because the two accidental snakebite victims were so convenient for them. And we just aren't prepared for the thoughtless way the Angels decide not to escape back to France after all. The movie just doesn't operate on that whimsical level. We're No Angels remains a cute, curious diversion and not much else.

Paramount's DVD of We're No Angels is a fine enhanced transfer with great color and a sharp image. The widescreen formatting really helps focus the action, although with so many wide shots it's recommended the movie be seen on the largest monitor possible. In keeping with Paramount policy for budget-priced discs, there are no extras.

On a scale of Excellent, Good, Fair, and Poor, We're No Angels rates:
Movie: Good or better, or worse depending on one's tolerance for tepid comedy
Video: Excellent
Sound: Excellent
Supplements: none
Packaging: Keep case
Reviewed: September 21, 2005