Maltese Falcon
Considered by many to be one of the best products to come out of Old Hollywood in 1941, this revered classic which saw the directorial debut of John Huston and launched Humphrey Bogart into stardom, sadly does not hold up too well when viewed through the modern day perspective, tending to come across as way too talky and stagy. Certainly this was the first example of Bogart playing the āBogart Personaā, a character (or character type) he would play in many films to come, but here going by the name of Sam Spade, a detective whose partner is killed in the line of duty on a routine surveillance job, leading him down a path that involves a deceitful woman and a trio of (possibly homosexual) criminals all in pursuit of the title treasure. Itās certainly surprising to see how indifferent Spade is to his partnerās murder, but nonetheless decides to get to the bottom of it by virtue of the detectiveās code of honor, which Bogart gives an agonizingly long monologue about at the filmās conclusion. Indeed, the modern day twenty something viewer might find themselves VERY bored by the almost excessive amount of dialogue on display, not to mention the obvious soundstages where it seems every scene takes place and makes much of the enterprise seem more like a stage play put to film, and even THIS experienced viewer found himself nodding off several times when the explanations and expositions got just a little bit too thick. This is somewhat offset by the performances though, as Bogart to be expected inhabited these characters like a second skin, while Peter Lorre is suitably slimy, creepy, and yet charismatic as the foppish character who first approaches Bogart about retrieving the Falcon; Sydney Greenstreet (a legendary stage actor making his film debut here at age 60 and scoring an Oscar nomination) is full of robust arrogance and bluster as the āFat Manā, and overall rich fellow with the leading interest in the prize; and Elisha Cook Jr. deserves special mention for no doubt playing the wimpiest henchman in cinema history, carrying two guns but not intimidating Bogart for a second, and even welling up with tears after Bogart insults him and then disarms him (again) before knocking him out cold. Only Mary Astor as the femme fatale of this film noir falls quite flat performance wise, coming off as too old and hard-edged to be able to manipulate any man, or in Bogartās case, getting him to fall in love with her even though he knows sheās bad news. Even as the story moves at a brisk pace, it still suffers from plot holes (why do the bad guys bother drugging Bogart and just leave him at their place unattended? Why not kill him?) not to mention the infamous story device of a deux ex machina, where a mortally wounded sea captain (Walter Huston) shows up out of the blue at Bogartās office with the Falcon in hand, and thus suddenly gives his character the upper hand. The ending is also a bit overdone as well as anticlimactic, where Bogart and the villains talk out their differences whereupon they then leave his apartment and then his big heroic act is to immediately call the cops and rat them out! Overall, a film which should not so much be remembered as an undisputed classic but rather a product of its time which made an enormous impact on the art of cinema and screenwritingā¦
5/10