Film Pairings — The Maltese Falcon And The Maltese Falcon Plus One More

The Maltese Falcon film most of us know and love is unquestionably the best.  But there was more than one American version.   There were three.

The Maltese Falcon (1931) – After seeing the 1941 version (several times), it is difficult to imagine other actors, or other approaches. However, for old film buffs (or is that simply buffs for old films?), this is an enjoyable movie, but falls well short of its now obvious potential.  This earliest version had Sam Spade as a shallow, well-dressed, smooth-talking, money-grubbing ladies’ man.  The pre-code era film played up the sex angle in this production, and the homosexual attraction between two of the crooks was not repressed as it was in the later version. The film starred an obnoxiously leering sexual predator — as we see it now — Ricardo Cortez as Spade and Bebe Daniels as the sexy, double-crossing vamp.

Satan Met A Lady (1936)  — This little curiosity was filmed in between the original film and the classic. It starred Bette Davis, who was reportedly having a tough time in her career and Warren William in the Bogart part.  It’s pure speculation on my part, but after the incredible film success of Dashiell Hammett’s The Thin Man in 1934, the studio wanted to remake the original Falcon in the fashion of the successful light-hearted Thin Man comedy mystery.  It didn't’ work on so many levels it’s hard to count. They added nightclub scenes so that a dapper Sam Spade could be seen as a worldly Nick Charles. The writers traded wise guy barbs for an attempt at witty banter and had a smarmy Warren William struggle with William Powell’s copyrighted combination of smart and silly, resulting in a difficult to take dandified version of Sam Spade. Warren William is no Powell and legendary as she is, Bette Davis is no Myrna Loy. The best fun here is seeing the delightful Marie Wilson and a young Arthur Treacher in supporting roles. Though entertaining in retrospect, Satan bombed and didn't help Davis resuscitate her career.

The Maltese Falcon (1941) — and while the first Falcon is entertaining, the second attempt a failure, the third won the championship. I cannot possibly know what was in Hammett’s head, but I always thought he succeeded in creating two classic but different literary characters in Sam Spade and Nick Charles.  I also suspect they are created from the extremes of his own personality.  Spade was a reflection of Hammett’s early career as a detective for Pinkerton and Charles a reflection of his high-living, carefree aspiration. The Maltese mystery as it was recreated in 1941 was the tale of a  tough, steet-wise character who, despite temptation, was true to his convictions. Yet the end was tragic — the noir formula missing from the other two versions. Another lesson that comes with looking at these films side by side is how important supporting roles can be. The 1941 film is solid all the way through. We not only appreciate Humphrey Bogart and Mary Astor in this one, we are enamored of the secondary characters as well, the subtly menacing crooks played by Peter Lorre, Sydney Greenstreet and Elisha Cook. Ward Bond also appeared as did Walter Huston who directed.

Drinks for the evening? These aren’t gritty crime films for the most part.  Drink something civilized for heaven’s sake, martinis, sherry, even champagne.  For the non-drinker, a spritzer without the alcohol.

Film Pairings — Espionage Light, Some Early Hitchcock

Espionage is in the air.  I suspect the folks hanging around Hollywood are in a spirited development mood as they work on surveillance and spy stories to pick up on the national, if not international mood — not that there aren’t some classics in the archives.  An evening not so long ago I revisited some Hitchcock films made before he packed his British bags and headed for the colonies, where in my amateur assessment, he did most of his best films.

However in Secret Agent (1936) and The Lady Vanishes (1938) we clearly see what made Hitchcock Hitchcock — suspense pleasantly undermined by humor or humor slightly spiced by suspense. 

In Secret Agent, we have mostly a Noel Coward-styled, bantering dialogue with super actors John Gielgud and Madeleine Carroll as well as scene-stealing Peter Lorre and a surprisingly dashing Robert Young.  The film was based on stories by W. Somerset Maugham, one of the most popular novelists of the day and often credited with being one of the masters of the spy novel, along with Graham Greene and Eric Ambler.

A couple of things jumped out at me while watching Secret Agent.  I had just seen Gielgud in a 1994 episode of the “Alleyn Mysteries” a few days earlier. He played an elderly gentleman, which of course he was.  But he seemed almost elderly in 1936 as well.  That means he had to have been 35 when he was born. The second shock was how beautiful and talented Madeleine Carroll was.  Where had she been all my life? I don’t remember her from my teen years watching all those late night movies on the hulking Zenith TV from the springy discomfort of the Hide-A-Bed in the living room after everyone else went to sleep. The third surprise was a handsome, debonair Robert Young. This was an actor as far from Jim Anderson in “Father Knows Best” or “Dr. Marcus Welby,” as could be.  It was easy to see Hitchcock locking on to an actor who promised to be Cary Grant. 

In the film, Gielgud and Carroll are hired to find and dispose of a German agent out to harm the allies. And they have psychopath Lorre to “help” them. It’s a wonder we won the war.

The Lady Vanishes is cut from the same cloth as Secret Agent and perhaps both, in terms of style, owe a great deal to The Thin Man, a popular American film that preceded both of them by a couple of years.  A little silliness, some outright slapstick and a flirtatious duel between Margaret Lockwood and Michael Redgrave, reminiscent of Nick and Nora.  Maybe this similarity merely reflects the style of the times.

Dame May Whitty steals the show, for me, as the lady in the title.  It takes a few minutes, more than it should, I think, for the story to take off. Once they get out of the hotel and onto the train, it’s a great ride. And we pick up more early evidence of Hitchcock’s fascination with cool blondes and fast trains. The film was based on the novel, The Wheel Spins, by Ethyl Lina White, a popular British crime writer of the era.

An accompaniment to the evening? Gin and tonic, possibly with a slice of cucumber. Hide your smart phones. Get comfy in your upholstered chairs and give in to espionage with twists of Brit wit and whimsy.  This is late 1939, remember.  Not a lot of blood and car chases.

Film Pairings — Crime That Will Tickle Your Funny Bone

Let’s take a break from those tough guy movies. Skip the cars tumbling in slow motion, the nail-biting suspense, the sly, nasty twist at the end, the blood-splattering shootout.  Let’s get silly. Crime can be fun and funny.  How about an evening of murder and crazy old ladies?

Arsenic and Old Lace.  No groans, now.  When was the last time you saw it? Mortimer Brewster (Cary Grant) and his childhood sweetheart and new wife, played by Priscilla Lane, visit Brewster’s crazy relatives.  The grave digging brother and the geezer-killing aunts — they meant well — there is an entourage of great character actors from the era — Peter Lorre, Jack Carson, Raymond Massey, James Gleason and Edward Everett Horton — playing cops and ominous visitors.  This is clearly a farce, full of coincidences, near discoveries, missing bodies, doors opening and shutting just in time as well as clever lines. The movie no doubt benefited from the play it was based upon, which had a long and successful run on Broadway before making it to the silver screen.  Grant throws himself into his comedic role in this highly-rated vintage comedy, still popular among contemporary viewers. Arsenic and Old Lace will lighten your mood and make you suspicious of your kindly old aunt who makes her own wine.

Then if you want to do more silly, let’s call in the British.  They know silly.  Even dark silly.  Eleven years after Arsenic and Old Lace was released, The Ladykillers came out. It met with immediate success and, like its American cousin, remains a popular rental today. British actress Katie Johnson is an eccentric elderly woman — the theme of the evening — who runs a boarding house in London and is a constant pest at the local police station. But instead of her being a crazy old murderess, she is the surprisingly resilient, clearly batty, intended victim.  Seems as if a gang of thugs rent a room from her, ostensibly for their string quintet to rehearse.  String quintet, smingquintet.  The real reason we have Alec Guinness, Peter Sellers and a cast of incredibly fine British actors meeting in at the boarding house is that there is a bank to be robbed and they need a place to plot out their strategy.  The robbery is successful, but that’s only the beginning.  Greed and paranoia take over. Misunderstandings, double-crosses and accidents abound, much to our guilty pleasure.

You might want to avoid Elderberry wine this evening, but why not go for something light and fun anyway.  Celebrate with some spritzers — even you are a serious oenophile — especially if it is a warm summer night. Tonight is not the night for a furrowed brow.

Film Pairing — Nazis, Criminals, Casinos and the Women the Tough Guys Wanted to Forget

When the love of your life breaks your heart, you never want to see her again. You become cynical, tough — nothing to lose because you already lost the most valuable thing in your life. So you either open a casino or go work in one, right? That’s what Humphrey Bogart does in Casablanca. It’s also what Glenn Ford does in Gilda.

The women, Ingrid Bergman as Ilsa and Rita Hayworth as Gilda, inadvertently happen upon the nightclubs of the guys they jilted. More bad luck, so do Nazis. Danger lurks in Casablanca where Bogart and Bergman fight against their impulses. It also lurks in Buenos Aires, where Ford and Hayworth try to hate each other.

I couldn’t help being a little flippant here; but of course, we’re dealing with a genuine classic with Casablanca (1942). Bogart is accompanied by his Maltese Falcon mates from a year earlier — Peter Lorre and Sydney Greenstreet. He is also sharing the big black and white screen with Claude Rains and Paul Henreid. With Bergman, this is a first-rate cast. The movie, directed by Michael Curtiz, is a tight and cinematically elegant story set against the advancing Nazis. The chances are that you know all of this. There are few people left who haven’t seen the movie at least once. And it’s likely to be on just about everyone’s ten best list.

Lesser known is Gilda (1948), but only slightly. Like Casablanca, the cinematography is . . . well . . . stunning. Though Glenn Ford does a great, cocky tough guy, Rita Hayworth is Gilda and pretty much the movie. She is not at all like Ilsa who suffers in silence. Gilda hides her suffering as well, but is hardly quiet about it. She pretends to be a brazen, brassy (use another “b” word here). This big budget (for its time) film was directed by Charles Vidor. It must have knocked post-war audiences out of their seats.

Paul Henreid and Ingrid Bergman drink a lot of champagne at Café Americain in Morrocco. They also drink Cointreau, Brandy and Cognac. If you are leaning toward Gilda, the Argentinians make great wine. Cheers. And thanks to Baby Dave for the tip.

Film Pairing — Take Two, Dark, Foggy, Hilly and Dangerous Trips to San Francisco With Mr. Bogart and See Me in the Morning

Themes we are embark-ing upon — 1940s Noir Classics, Humphrey

Bogart and the City by the Bay. All right, there’s nothing novel about a double feature with The Maltese Falcon (1941) and Dark Passage (1947) but we’re creating a mood here and we’re doing it in San Francisco.

The Maltese Falcon is often regarded as one of the best films ever made, usually after Casablanca, Citizen Cane and The Third Man. And it may very well be: A plot that twists, a clever protagonist, and an end that goes against the standard Hollywood formula. Surely I’m not going to spoil anything by saying the girl, the love interest, comes to a bad end.

There is a quick intro featuring San Francisco landmarks in The Maltese Falcon. However, once the film begins, its clear the movie could have been filmed anywhere. In Dark Passage San Francisco plays a significant role. Anyone who lives here knows what Bogart’s character, post surgery, felt like climbing and climbing and climbing these damned beautiful hills. Overall, the cinematography in Passage may actually be better than in its more famous counterpart. The innovative first-person cinematography as the film opens is odd, but effective. Bogart’s grit and Lauren Bacall’s elegance create more heat, light and magic than Bogart and Mary Astor. Another plus for Dark Passage.

In my mind though, while these are both excellent films the nod goes to the Maltese Falcon because Sam Spade has more formidable opposition in this one. Sydney Greenstreet is a superb heavy, pardon the play on words, and Peter Lorre seems to steal every scene he’s in. It is their challenge — as actors and characters — that elevates Bogart’s classic portrayal of a cynical private eye and therefore his bittersweet victory.

They are both must-sees. I’m not quite sure what the Fat Man offers Spade that knocks him out. I suspect that whatever drug he used was slipped into a glass of Brandy — not a bad choice on a foggy San Francisco night. Just skip the Mickey Finn part. And if you are not in San Francisco, pretend you are for a few foggy hours.