The Maltese Falcon (1941)
– As well as a directorial debut and a book-to-screen adaptation, The Maltese Falcon is the curious case
of the remake that’s better than the original (is it the only one?). Director John Huston takes the Dashiell
Hammett book of the same name and films it virtually word-for-word, casting
Humphrey Bogart in a star-making role as private eye Sam Spade. It’s your classic MacGuffin film, where the
object of pursuit is less important than the characters who pursue it, and here
The Maltese Falcon shines with an
amazingly engaging set of protagonists and antagonists who are all in it for
themselves – even if it means double-crossing each other to get there. Spade gets embroiled in a search for the
fabled “Black Bird,” though he’s not sure who really wants it or why; in hot
pursuit of the jeweled statue, Spade becomes embroiled in a sundry cast of
characters including a charismatic pathological liar (Mary Astor), an effete
but well-mannered criminal (Peter Lorre), and a garrulous gentleman (Sydney
Greenstreet) whose vocabulary is matched only by his girth. The
Maltese Falcon is perfect on a number of levels – perfect cast, perfect
direction (which practically reinvents noir before your eyes), perfect script
that wastes not a single shot in relentless pursuit of the plot. Huston has made something really remarkable
film here, almost the noir version of Seinfeld,
in which essentially nothing happens while four ostensible allies scramble over
each other to come out on top. On first
watch, the pursuit is all; on second watch, you’ll be able to appreciate the
performances now that you know who’s after what at which point. On third watch? You’ll be saying the dialogue along with
them. The Maltese Falcon is that perfect crystallization of earnestness
and infectiousness, a movie instantly rewatchable time and again.
That does it for this week’s edition of “Monday at the Movies.” We’ll see you here next week!
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