All Through the Night

Can I tell you that my first knowledge of 1942's ALL THROUGH THE NIGHT was courtesy of The Love Boat? It's true.  I watched that show quite a bit in my youth and always noticed the film's poster on the wall in Gopher's cabin.  It was prominent in several scenes, and always caught my attention.  I never could get a really clear look at Humphrey Bogart's mug, though.  It looked more like Frankenstein, advertising some B horror pic.  Then I forgot about it until I found a Bogart DVD box set in the former home of my mother in law's deceased neighbor, Harry, who left behind a treasure trove that I've been working through for over a decade.

This is a lesser Bogie, for certain.  A Warner Bros. WW II era programmer that tries to be current and relevant and entertaining, and generally succeeds on all accounts. The acting icon plays a well scrubbed hood nicknamed "Gloves", who runs a gambling operation in NYC.  He's an amiable fella, quick with retorts, as is everyone in this picture.  And he loves the cheesecake made Mr. Miller (Ludwig Stossel) the baker, who unfortunately turns up dead one afternoon.  Who would bump off such a nice man? And why did that young lady, who upon learning the bad news, bolt so quickly when she stopped by the bakery?

Gloves traces the girl - who is named Leda (Kaaren Verne) - to a night club, quickly learning she is connected to murderous (yet of course well dressed, wasn't everyone in this era?) thugs.  When one of them shoots another of their own, Gloves gets the rap and sets off to find the girl (again) and clear his name.  During a lengthy visit to an auction house and its back rooms, Gloves and his associates discover a nest of Nazi fifth Columnists, apparently planning something sinister in the City.  Is Leda one of them? Or there against her will?

It all sounds like a dark and shadowy spy thriller, and those elements are certainly there.  But the screenplay by Leonard Spigelgass and Edwin Gilbert and director Vincent Sherman are more interested in comedy than thrills and derring do.  I was quite surprised at how funny and even downright silly ALL THROUGH THE NIGHT often is.  All that fast talking, an almost dizzying verbosity.  Slapstick.  Goofball characters.  How does Bogart acquit himself in this mess? Pretty well, thank you very much.  He is surprisingly deft with humor, and his scene with compadre Sunshine (William Demarest) during the Nazi meeting is a small classic of doublespeak, almost approaching something the Marx Brothers (or even Abbott and Costello) might've used.  It could've been embarrassing, but I found it very funny.

Look for small, early roles by Phil Silvers and Jackie Gleason!