If the line “You wouldn’t have something to lubricate an old sailor’s gizzard, would you father? I’ve got a tongue like an aborigine’s nightshirt, doesn’t raise even the slightest titter from you then you probably won’t enjoy Crooks in Cloisters. But if, like me, you have a soft spot for cosily outdated British post-war comedy films then you’ll probably find yourself gently amused.
Crooks in Cloisters is one of those British comedies (see also Go to Blazes, Two Way Stretch) that was produced in the interesting period after Ealing had made the last of their quaint but deceptively clever and satirical comedies with Barnacle Bill in 1957, but before the whole notion of “Swinging London had taken hold and the strange new idea of “cool comedy emerged with films like Bedazzled and The Italian Job. Crooks in Cloisters isn’t particularly clever and is emphatically not cool.
It tells the story of a group of lovably buffoonish London career criminals led by not-as-smart-as-he-thinks-he-is Little Walter (Ronald Fraser) and including hopeless gambling addict Squirts McGinty (Bernard Cribbins) and shrieking bee-hived nightmare Bikini (Barbara Windsor), who after a bungled train robbery are forced to go into hiding. Obviously, the most practical solution is to buy an abandoned island monastery off the Cornish coast and to live there as monks for a year, so this is what they do. The crooks are then forced to blend in as real men of God with the local community but, as old habits die hard, they eventually end up running a counterfeit operation from the monastery with the assistance of a local ex-smuggler played by Wilfred Brambell of Steptoe & Son fame.
Its inconsequential stuff, utterly predictable with end-of-the-pier performances and most of the jokes wouldn’t be out of the place in the Beano but, as with a lot of other comedies from the same era, it’s so quaintly harmless that it’s easy to forgive its flaws and go along for the ride. It doesn’t have any of the smutty innuendo of the Carry On films, which were being produced at the same time and has a streak of sweetly amusing innocence running through it. Having said that it’s also a film that’s easy to laugh at as well as with, not least for its casual sexism. For example the criminals all learn serious life lessons during their stay at the monastery, which will make them better people. Except for Bikini who learns how to cook so she can make a decent wife for someone.
Overall Verdict: Depending on your point-of-view it’s either hideously dated or endearingly old-fashioned. But for those who can look past its obvious flaws there are far worse ways to spend 90 minutes.
Special Features:
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Reviewer: Adam Pidgeon