Anchored by Humphrey Bogart's now legendary performance as Sam Spade, this seminal film is a moment of distinct change in Hollywood, launching not only Huston, one of the great auteurs, and his career, it signaled a change in cinematic thinking, directing Hollywood into a period that would become increasingly dominated by cynical, world weary filmmaking. With the output of the 1930's centered on escapist fantasies, designed to provide reprieve to Americans to the harsh realities of the Great Depression, Huston's adaptation must have seemed particularly shocking. Morally, it’s ambiguous at best and often times Spade, the film's hero, portrays a me first attitude that would become a touchstone of the anti-heroes that inhabit the dark corridors of noir. Bogart, as Spade, is brilliant, imbuing his character with a intoxicating charisma that allows the audience to look beyond Spade's obvious faults to end up rooting for him, even when he is double crossing his partner or his lover.
Where Bogart was a burgeoning star prior to The Maltese Falcon, it was with Huston's vision that allowed him to shoot to super stardom and begin a 10 year period in which he would make classic after classic, including Casablanca, To Have and Have Not, The Big Sleep, The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, Key Largo and The African Queen, many of which he would star under Huston's capable direction. Bogart tears through his lines with a determined ferocity and my oh my, what lines there are. Huston's screenplay is blistering, one of the pinnacles of the craft, with his dialogue perfectly recreating the machine gun prose of Hammett's literature. Peter Lorre, one of the great character actors of the classic film, is superb here, as the shifty, conniving Joel Cairo, walking the line between dangerous and hapless perfectly. The audience is never quite sure what to make of
Arthur Edeson, one of the underrated DP's in the Studio Era, fills the screen with one memorable image after another, foreshadowing, by almost 5 years, the expressionist lighting that would separate Noir from it counterparts. When one looks at late 30's, early 40's American filmmaking, there are four films that stand out as being genuinely visually innovative, Ford's Stagecoach, Welles' Citizen Kane, Huston's The Maltese Falcon and Curtiz's Casablanca, all of which were released within a couple years or so of each other (Edeson is responsible for Falcon and Casablanca, Bert Glennon for Stagecoach, Gregg Toland for Kane). Huston's camera moves stealthily through the sets, crafting epic shots with ease and fluidity that makes many of them invisible, even to the discerning eye. Even in 1941, at a point when Hollywood was reaching the peak of the studio system, refining the process in which classic after classic was being pumped out of the backlots across town, The Maltese Falcon stands out as a stunning achievement, a film so ahead of its time, only films like the ones mentioned above (actually excluding Casablanca, which while a fine film, it is more of a perfect combination of proven elements than a necessarily groundbreaking accomplishment) stand on the same level as Huston's film.
Much like Kane, The Maltese Falcon came as a complete shock to the town, a film so well put together, so different, so fresh and exciting, all done with a debut director and one not quite star. These films were far ahead of their time and even today, are timeless creations that have lost nothing in the past 65 years. Now take a minute and stop to think about that number. This is a work of art, roughly triple my age that, if released today, would dwarf everything being put out today. Technically, narratively, emotionally and mentally dwarf every last film (Ok, maybe not every film but there are an extreme few, say 2 or 3 that can hold a candle to Falcon). A staggering achievement from a collection of people who would soon be known as undeniable geniuses, The Maltese Falcon is a dark trip into the heart of a city, one teeming with greed, violence and sex and its a trip that this writer would gladly take over and over and over again.
*****
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