Subtle spoof of adventure thrillers that - on the surface at least - appears very much an example of the movie genre being spoofed.
Once you realise, however, that the movie has no real hero nor heroine, you can sit back and enjoy the first-rate actors pretending to be characters whom are pretending to be otherwise than they are. (This makes it also something of a satire on the Hollywood film-production system and its combative egos, sexual perversion & illegal-drug abuse.)
Frivolous comedy-adventure which seems to imagine that Humphrey Bogart joined the gang from The Maltese Falcon and spent the last dozen years on the road working elaborate scams. Robert Morley plays the fat man and we even get Peter Lorre, now also carrying a few kilos. Obviously they all operate under new names...
Brigid O'Shaughnessy must still be inside! Or dead. Now the lies are provided by a blonde Jennifer Jones as a ditzy kook. Bogart is married to Gina Lollobrigida and the glamour is more exposed than in the early days of film noir. It's a very bright, sunny film, mostly set in a touristic Italy, which maybe would have suited Technicolor.
There are no ominous shadows; this is film blanc. And it's just great fun. Everyone is trying to get to Africa to claim uranium rights... John Huston co-writes (with Truman Capote) and directs the Anglo-Italian production supported by an amazing British crew and a wonderful cast playing a gallery of untrustworthy crooks.
The screwball comedy fizzes for an hour though goes a little flat once they leave the picturesque Amalfi Coast. It's an engaging escapade with a dry, English sense of humour. It's utterly inconsequential and the conspiracy feels like it was made up on the set. It's minor Huston but actually triggers a new genre, the comedy caper.