Reelin' In The Years -- The Maltese Falcon (1941), directed by John Huston

The Trailer

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The Appropriate Tune: "Something I Dreamed Last Night", by John Coltrane

       1941 is a year that will live in infamy, cinematically at least. The year that everything changed, or so film historians would have you believe. I’m talking of course about the release of Citizen Kane, a story of lost innocence, political and moral corruption, and some not that subtle digs at a certain newspaper magnate who may have helped manufacture consent for the Spanish-American War. The film that not only established Orson Welles as one of the great creative minds of the medium but has since gone on to be recognized as one of the greatest films ever made, right alongside Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo. Whether that title still holds up or if it’s just lip-service people make to sound cultured, the fact is when you think of ‘big’ movies, when you think of ‘important’ movies, Citizen Kane is one of those first names that come up. Even if you’ve never seen the movie, which is a distinct possibility in this day & age, chances are you still know the name Citizen Kane. Know it in the same way you know Star Wars, or Jaws, or King Kong.

So it would seem that Citizen Kane would be the natural choice for today’s stop, but I had actually already seen Citizen Kane some years ago and while I’ve recently been breaking with tradition and looking into reviewing movies that I’m familiar with, trying something new always takes priority. What to choose then? 1941 saw the release of two films by Alfred Hitchcock, Suspicion and Mr. & Mrs. Smith, and Hitchcock films are always in contention. Universal released The Wolf Man, which would go on to become one of the premier names of the Universal Monsters line despite never transitioning into a proper franchise like Frankenstein or even The Creature from the Black Lagoon. Disney dropped Dumbo in 1941, but considering the current political climate covering a movie where a bunch of crows talk jive didn’t seem the correct move. Similar thinking went into the decision to pass on Kenji Mizoguchi’s The 47 Ronin; I’m going to be covering a Japanese film in this series, but you’ll have to wait until the postwar period to get it. No no no, it’s the 40s, so how about a little film noir? How about one of the most famous film noir movies ever made? That’ll work out just fine.

       Released in 1941 through Warner Bros., written and directed by John Huston in his directorial debut, The Maltese Falcon was actually the second film adaptation of the Dashiell Hammett story of the same name, the first having come out a decade prior directed by Roy Del Ruth and starring Ricardo Cotez and Bebe Daniels. Humphrey Bogart stars as Sam Spade, a private detective working in San Francisco with his partner Miles Archer. One day Spade is approached by a beautiful woman named Ruth Wonderly, looking to hire them to locate her sister Corinne, lured away from their home by a man named Floyd Thursby. They take the case, but what started out as a simple tailing job soon turns to tragedy when Archer is shot and killed by an unknown assailant, and then mystery when Thursby is murdered not too long afterwards. The cops suspect Spade, he had a job related to Thursby and a relationship related to Archer’s wife that places him at the top of the suspect list, but what is the truth? Who killed Archer and Thursby? Who is Ruth Wonderly, really? And what of the talk of this mysterious black bird, and the mysterious trail of death that seems to follow it wherever it goes? Where is the Maltese Falcon?

       Film noir, much like the Southern Gothic literature of William Faulkner and Tennessee Williams, marks what I believe can be seen now as a maturation of the medium in the United States. Optimism and sentimentalism stripped away to reveal the underbelly of humanity; Gangsters, thug cops, femme fatales and hardboiled detectives. So it is here in The Maltese Falcon: Sam Spade is our protagonist but he is not a noble or heroic figure. He’s cynical, condescending philanderer who has no problem manipulating people to get what he wants, but because he has a certain set of ethics he operates under he stands aparts from the antagonists, thus drawing the support of the audience. We may not like him as a person, but we respect his search for the truth.

       Yet another feather in the cap for Humphrey Bogart, who was only a year away from blowing up Hollywood with Casablanca, who really exemplifies that sort of duality that I implied in the above paragraph. Handsome but haggard, charismatic but acerbic, you can tell pretty easily why Bogart was once considered one of the coolest men in Hollywood. He’s helped by a damn good supporting cast; Mary Astor as the duplicitous damsel in distress Ruth Wonderly, long-time Bogart bud Peter Lorre as the shady Joel Cairo (I don’t know if Lorre has ever played a character that wasn’t shady), and Sydney Greenstreet as the boisterous and dastardly Kasper Gutman in not only his film debut, but the role which granted him his sole Academy Award nomination in his all-too-short career (he lost, like so many others, to the horror that was How Green Was My Valley). Four very distinct people with four very distinct personalities that play off each other well, and really elevate what is already great writing. A lot could be learned about characterization from this film, both literal and visual.

       As mentioned before this is the directorial debut of John Huston, who had been a screenwriter since 1930 and would go on to write, direct and act in such films as The Treasure of Sierra Madre, Moby Dick and The Man Who Would Be King until his death in 1987. Up until this point I had never seen a film by John Huston, so I can’t speak to any stylistic choices that would place him amongst the auteurs, although since he wrote/co-wrote and directed a whole bunch of his films I think he’d be considered an auteur either way. I will say that The Maltese Falcon is directed well, moves along quickly but the mystery has a good build and the film never feels rushed. Not very adventurous in terms of cinematography, although there is one shot at the end that I like, but with the writing and the acting it doesn’t really need it.

       The only thing about The Maltese Falcon that rubs me the wrong way is the score. Now I’ve been around film noir enough to know that the genre’s connection to jazz music is far less prevalent than pop culture would have you believe, but the orchestral score used here feels off to me. Too peppy at times, even downright goofy. Half the time you aren’t sure whether you’re watching a highlight of Hollywood’s Golden Age or an episode of Leave It to Beaver. The Maltese Falcon is less overtly violent than other film noir so they can kind of get away with it, but there are definitely scenes where the music is very noticeable. Scenes that would normally have a light degree of levity suddenly threaten whimsy, and I don’t know if Bogart can pull off whimsy.

       The Maltese Falcon is not only a good movie, it’s a pioneer for the hundreds of films, books, comics, cartoons that followed in the years hence. Where Citizen Kane’s elephantine reputation might scare some modern moviegoers away, or at least cause them to put it off for special occasions, The Maltese Falcon is supremely watchable; Put it on wherever, whenever, and you’re probably going to have a good time. It gets the recommendation. Next time on our tour, I guess we’ll take a look at that whole World War II thing everyone’s talking about. We’re not doing Casablanca though, so don’t even ask.