Review for Crooks In Cloisters

Introduction

There was a time in my life that Crooks in Cloisters was the bane of my existence, that and The Iron Maiden. I very rarely got sick as a child, and even if I had the sniffles I was made to go to school. It was a rare occasion when I was sick enough to take the day off, and invariably it would end up with hot tomato soup and a slice of bread for lunch, followed by whatever may be on TV that afternoon as a 'treat', then bed. After my mum had watched Pebble Mill at One, I'd get to watch the afternoon movie on Thames TV, and fate somehow always conspired that the afternoon film on the days that I would fall sick, would either be Crooks in Cloisters, or The Iron Maiden. Between the ages of four and ten, I must have seen Crooks in Cloisters some twenty times. But this is over thirty years ago now, and I'm rather chagrined to admit that I can't recall a single moment of it. As soon as I saw StudioCanal had announced a restored DVD release to celebrate star Barbara Windsor's 75th Birthday, nostalgia had rang a bell in my head, and like a punch drunk boxer, I had requested the check disc before I even realised. Sometimes nostalgia should be ignored.


Scotland Yard has been cracking down on organised crime in a big way, and Little Walter's gang of crooks is the last left at large. Rather than go head to head with their arch nemesis Superintendent Mungo, Walter Dodds decides that they should all lie low for a while. He's put some of their ill-gotten gains to use and bought an island off the Cornwall coast. He and his gang will don the habits of monks and adopt a more ascetic life, lying low until the heat dies down. But for the likes of Dodds, wide boy Squirts McGinty, Specs, Lorenzo, and Poet Willy, forgoing the easy life and pretending to be monks may turn out to be next to impossible. That's nothing compared to how hard it will be for Walter's girlfriend, Bikini.

The Disc

I had only ever experienced Crooks in Cloisters in 4:3, and I was pretty shocked to see that it was actually shot in a 2.35:1 original aspect ratio. It's a print that looks pretty good for the most part, free of damage and stable throughout. The only flaw is in the lack of dark detail, and some moments where the darker scenes fade in intensity. The focus can be a little variable at times, and the anamorphic lens used does distort at the edge of the screen in some scenes. But this is a film replete in sixties colour, and it really does come alive on the screen. It's really a high quality effort for a budget British film of the era. The audio comes in DD 2.0 mono, the dialogue is clear throughout, and the music suits the film well. I'd forgotten how shrill Barbara Windsor could be at times, and had to nudge the volume down a tad. To my eternal shame, I had to use the subtitles, as I realised I had no idea what some of the slang used was. This is a barebones disc, which presents the film with a static menu screen.

Conclusion

After watching Crooks in Cloisters, I've come to the realisation that I would have loved this film as a child. It's full of bright, primary colours, a daft story, simple characters, goofy, over the top performances and an overall childishness that is perfect for viewers of single-digit ages. The trouble with this is that Crooks in Cloisters clearly isn't a children's film, rather a broad comedy meant to appeal to all ages. Certainly no one today would commission a tale of a band of small time villains trying to evade the law as suitable kids' material, and the obvious sex-kitten role of Brother Bikini, designed to show off Barbara Windsor's inimitable assets is aimed at an adult audience. The trouble is that Crooks in Cloisters is just too childish to hold the attention of grown-ups for long, and as a result falls flat far too often.


That's despite a veritable who's who of British comedy in the cast, including Bernard Cribbins, Melvyn Hayes, and Wilfred Brambell. Ronald Fraser leads the cast as Walter Dodds, and he overdoes it more than a bit, laying on the wise crook persona thickly to the point of mugging. Bernard Cribbins' lecherous Squirts McGinty is just as monotone, Barbara Windsor is shrill, and it's really only Melvyn Hayes who elicits some sympathy for his character. Everyone else is just a single note caricature.


Despite this, the story is an appealing one, that of a bunch of larcenous crooks deciding to go back to nature, hide behind a habit of piety to lie low from the police. Used to the bright lights of the city, they are initially overwhelmed by nature, but slowly manage to come to terms with, and even enjoy their new lives, learning much in the process. The trouble is that they can't let go of their criminal sides, so even while they are getting back to basics, and learning how to live 'straight' they can't help but indulge in the odd bit of villainy on the side. When it comes time to quit the habit, and get back to their old lives, they find that they are reluctant to do so, having fallen in love with the simple life. But this being a comedy film about villains, they do have to get their comeuppance in the end, to promote the message that right always prevails, and so it is that their villainy comes back to haunt them.


We get crooks, pretending rather poorly to be monks, with the expediency of doing so by merely adding a Brother in front of their names. Father Superior Walter, and Brothers Willy and Lorenzo get away with this, but not so much Brother Squirts and Brother Specs, and the less said about Brother Bikini the better. And so we get crooked monks having to deal with livestock, with cooking, with farming, with tourists, with villagers, and with real monks, and herein the comedy lies. And I find that it's so unsophisticated and unsubtle that it really isn't all that funny at all. Crooks in Cloisters was fun when I was five, and if you can access your inner-five year-old, you may enjoy it still.