Larceny, Inc. (1942)

User Rating:

7.4/10   

Director:

Lloyd Bacon

Writers:

Laura Perelman (play) and
S.J. Perelman (play) ...

Release Date:

2 May 1942 (USA)

Genre:

Comedy | Crime | Drama

Plot:

Three ex-cons buy a luggage shop to tunnel into the bank vault next door. But despite all they can do, the shop prospers...

Plot Keywords:

Luggage | Sing Sing | Bank Robbery | Con Artist | Automobile Accident

Cast

Edward G. Robinson	...	J. Chalmers 'Pressure' Maxwell
Jane Wyman	...	Denny Costello
Broderick Crawford	...	Jug Martin
Jack Carson	...	Jeff Randolph
Anthony Quinn	...	Leo Dexter
Edward Brophy	...	Weepy Davis
Harry Davenport	...	Homer Bigelow
John Qualen	...	Sam Bachrach
Barbara Jo Allen	...	Mademoiselle Gloria
Grant Mitchell	...	Mr. Aspinwall, a banker
Jackie Gleason	...	Hobart (as Jackie C. Gleason)
Andrew Tombes	...	Oscar Engelhart, a merchant
Joe Downing	...	Smitty, a convict (as Joseph Downing)
George Meeker	...	Mr. Jackson, a merchant
Fortunio Bonanova	...	Anton Copoulos, a barber

Runtime:

95 min

Country:

USA

Language:

English

Color:

Black and White

Aspect Ratio:

1.37 : 1

Sound Mix:

Mono (RCA Sound System)

Certification:

Sweden:(Banned) | USA:Approved (PCA #7928)

Company:

Warner Bros. Pictures

Trivia:

The play opened in New York City, New York, USA on 10 April 1941 and closed 27 April 1941 after 22 performances. The opening cast included Shelley Winters.

Goofs:

Continuity: Charles Sullivan hits a fly ball in the baseball game, but you see the pitcher field a ground ball.

Quotes:

Jug Martin: The situation calls for strategy.

Movie Connections:

Remade as Small Time Crooks (2000)

Soundtrack:

Silent Night, Holy Night

Inept Crooks

S. J. Perelman, on whose play this is based, would sometimes use the nom de plume Sidney Namelrep, a silly, devil-may-care joke that is perfectly in tune with his sense of humor. He wrote some of the most outrageously funny pieces ever to appear in the New Yorker. His comedy is filled with whimsy, non sequiturs, twisted cliches, notions that seem to emerge recklessly from nowhere, scarcely masked libidinous allusions, ridiculously transparent self justifications -- the kind of humor associated with the Marx Brothers. And in fact he wrote some of their best lines in (if I remember correctly) "Monkey Business" -- "Hurry, my dear, my regiment leaves at dawn." His wit still can be seen through the screen of the more strict narrative line seen in this movie but because the characters need to seem reasonably sane, their range is a bit restricted. ("Mmm. Did you concoct these little tidbits?") The story itself, fortunately, is so absurd that it rolls right along, in the same league as Warners' "All Through The Night." It's a pretty ancient tale. Thieves getting into a store next to a bank in order to break through the wall into the vault. The first time I remember coming across it was in a Sherlock Holmes tale, "The Red Headed League," and I doubt it was original with Conan-Doyle. This is the earliest movie about such a caper that I'm aware of. But later there was "Big Deal on Madonna Street" and most recently Woody Allan's "Small Time Crooks," which duplicated some of the incidents as well as the general idea. (The thieves break open a water pipe while digging the tunnel; the original plan fizzles out when the phony business upstairs becomes an economic bonanza.) It's a well-done and highly entertaining comedy with the usual roster of Warners' stalwarts at their best. The kind of movie about which you can truly say, "They don't make 'em like that anymore." I don't know how long it took to shoot. Not long, I imagine. New York City is nothing more than a street on the back lot and a handful of interiors. Loyd Bacon, whom no one ever proclaimed a genius, knows how to shoot a film efficienctly, the way a good car mechanic knows his business, moving the bodies around with careless ease. There isn't a wasted motion. Every step, every opening of a door, every snarl and stutter, serves a purpose. Robinson breezes through the whole business. Jane Wyman looks cute. Broderick Crawford is dumb beyond belief. And every item of luggage in the store is "Nine seventy-five." It's all pretty amusing.