the Maltese FalconSam Spade. The name is a legend, and so, too, is Humphrey Bogart as the smooth and sly detective, as is the legend of The Maltese Falcon. But even legends have humble beginnings. The Maltese Falcon was a film of firsts: it was the first film for first-time director John Huston, it was the first on-screen performance of character actor Sydney Greenstreet, and it was the first time Bogart would become synonymous with the cool, gritty hero-type, having been relegated to gangster parts and other lower-rung roles until then. Lastly, The Maltese Falcon also represents the earliest example of a film noir.
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The film was adapted from the hard-boiled detective novel of the same name by Dashiell Hammett, and carries the persistent feel of a living, breathing pulp read, with vivid characters engaged in crime and deception, loaded with punchy dialogue and questionable morals. Sam Spade is partner to Miles Archer (Jerome Cowan), and our story begins with the dame who walked through the door: Ruth Wonderly (Mary Astor)...it is "Wonderly", isn't it? No, that would be too easy. "Wonderly" is actually Brigid O'Shaughnessy (maybe) and Sam has her number right from the start. But that is really Sam's greatest asset--he either has a keen grasp on the tells and giveaways of liars and gives them just enough rope, or he really is just that fast on his feet, and his reactionary skills to the various verbal (and sometimes pugilistic) duels he finds himself in give him the upper hand. In a way, Sam is that tough hero we all want to be, always ready with just the right retort when the cops start trying to push him into submission, or when O'Shaughnessy keeps pouring on lies like syrup, he knows the score and keeps his cool--for the most part. He's swift to disarm the young, inexperienced gunsel Wilmer (Elisha Cook, Jr.) with both his wit and agility, and push around the effete slimeball Joel Cairo (Peter Lorre) and his partner-in-crime, the erudite (yet corpulent) Kasper Gutman (Greenstreet) in their frenzied pursuit for the quintessential MacGuffin, the Maltese Falcon.
It's hard to believe that The Maltese Falcon was John Huston's first film, because it is so staggeringly polished and sharp, like the edge of a switchblade. There's nary a moment that isn't chock full of rich dialogue and bold direction, action and suspense, danger and tension lurking behind every door. John Huston's skill at adapting the story for the screen is keen, indeed, with several key directorial flourishes which have become iconic in it's wake. One of the more often cited strokes is during Sam's second confrontation with Gutman, who after the harsh parting of their previous encounter, offers Sam a drink. No great affair is made of the gesture, nor is any exceptional attention given to the drink or Gutman's reactions. But like "The Purloined Letter" by the oft-regarded inventor of the detective story, Edgar Allen Poe, the danger lurks in plain sight, and like Sam, we are oblivious to it...until it's too late. I've always enjoyed the interplay between Bogart and Astor in The Maltese Falcon; Sam is a good guy who pretends to be bad, Brigid (although she is always addressed by her last name) is a bad girl who pretends to be good. Theirs is a tug-of-war of scruples, although there's no real suggestion that Sam is trying to "reform" her--no, you have to wonder just how much Sam knows about her and at what point. Maybe there's a part of him that does really feel something for her, maybe it's a part of him that gets a thrill out of her repeated attempts to deceive him that excites his keen deductive mind. There's that hint of temptation there, but Sam--whether he likes it or not--has a code, and is a man who may be forced to charm the snakes and roll with the rogues, but is himself "not as crooked as he's supposed to be".
Recommended for: Fans of an exciting, tightly-wound crime story with pulpy dialogue, a knotted and layered plot, spurious, conniving thieves and con-men, and the steely detective who has to sort it all out...in short, the stuff that dreams are made of.
It's hard to believe that The Maltese Falcon was John Huston's first film, because it is so staggeringly polished and sharp, like the edge of a switchblade. There's nary a moment that isn't chock full of rich dialogue and bold direction, action and suspense, danger and tension lurking behind every door. John Huston's skill at adapting the story for the screen is keen, indeed, with several key directorial flourishes which have become iconic in it's wake. One of the more often cited strokes is during Sam's second confrontation with Gutman, who after the harsh parting of their previous encounter, offers Sam a drink. No great affair is made of the gesture, nor is any exceptional attention given to the drink or Gutman's reactions. But like "The Purloined Letter" by the oft-regarded inventor of the detective story, Edgar Allen Poe, the danger lurks in plain sight, and like Sam, we are oblivious to it...until it's too late. I've always enjoyed the interplay between Bogart and Astor in The Maltese Falcon; Sam is a good guy who pretends to be bad, Brigid (although she is always addressed by her last name) is a bad girl who pretends to be good. Theirs is a tug-of-war of scruples, although there's no real suggestion that Sam is trying to "reform" her--no, you have to wonder just how much Sam knows about her and at what point. Maybe there's a part of him that does really feel something for her, maybe it's a part of him that gets a thrill out of her repeated attempts to deceive him that excites his keen deductive mind. There's that hint of temptation there, but Sam--whether he likes it or not--has a code, and is a man who may be forced to charm the snakes and roll with the rogues, but is himself "not as crooked as he's supposed to be".
Recommended for: Fans of an exciting, tightly-wound crime story with pulpy dialogue, a knotted and layered plot, spurious, conniving thieves and con-men, and the steely detective who has to sort it all out...in short, the stuff that dreams are made of.