This is going to be my most controversial film review ever.
I confirm to be aware that The Maltese Falcon is considered one of the greatest films of all time, that it is preserved in the Library of Congress and that Humphrey Bogart is a legend adored by all the modern-day PUAs (pick-up artists), but I don’t give a damn.
My Feelings
A sense of irritation invaded me since the first frame, when the opening solemnly announced:
“In 1539 the Knight Templars of Malta, paid tribute to Charles V of Spain, by sending him a Golden Falcon encrusted from beak to claw with rarest jewels — but pirates seized the galley carrying this priceless token and the fate of the Maltese Falcon remains a mystery to this day.”
Well, the Knights of Malta were NOT the Templars! The two orders have nothing to do with each other! Jeez! “OK, calm down! It’s just a movie…”, I told myself. Yeah it’s just a movie, but it has been in my watch list due to my close link with Malta…
The film opens with a femme fatale looking desperate for Bogart’s help and attention. She accomplishes both goals very well. Here you can find the classiest Bogart you can expect. A charismatic man surrounded by a smokey aura held up by an unshakable confidence. A fine dealer, capable of negotiating coldly even before a gun. A private investigator who’s greedy, but not enough to deny a discount to a charming lady already falling for him since the first glance. But may you not be fooled. Detective Spade won’t let Ms O’Shaughnessy use him. A real alpha male never lets women use him. He uses them!
If Humphrey Bogart’s demeanour is the cliche of masculinity, The Maltese Falcon is the archetype of all the noir genre cliches. You have the double sided femme fatale who tells nothing but lies. You have the poor fool who’s killed in the first 5 minutes while he was hoping to have a chance with the femme fatale. You have the two cops who are always duped by the protagonist. You have the villains who are foolish enough to challenge the antihero, but smart enough to side with him when the tables turn against them.
However, this film has also some original moments, and my favourite is when Mr Cairo enters Spade’s office to search for The Maltese Falcon. Now, the plot doesn’t explain why a statue belonging to the Knights of Malta should be in the office of a random private investigator in San Fransisco, but whatever. The funny part is that Spade manages to disarm the intruder with an easiness worth of James Bond. Once unarmed, Mr Cairo is forced to explain what he’s up to, but after the explanation is provided, what does Spades do? He gives the gun back to the man, and the man demands again to search the office threatening Spade again with his gun! Wow… Spade laughs just as the viewer laughs! Theatrical nonsense…
The Acting
If the plot is shallow and the directing seems even amateur at times, the acting performances are top-notch. Humphrey Bogart doesn’t need any introduction. He is the prototype of Sean Connery.
Mary Astor delivers the most realistic performance. You never know what’s going on in Ms Wonderly/O’Shaughnessy’s mind and she flips from innocent victim to manipulative criminal mastermind seamlessly. Astor’s performance is pivotal because in a true noir, you cannot trust anybody!
And a special praise goes to Sydney Greenstreet in his movie debut! Can you imagine debuting in movies at 61 and delivering the best performance beside icons like Humphrey Bogart and Mary Astor? To give you an idea, it is like your grandpa performs today in a movie beside Brad Pitt and Margot Robbie and he steals the scene! Greenstreet portrays an enjoyable villain who could be described like having The Penguin’s looks and demeanour mixed with the fine culture of an Indiana Jones villain, spiced up by a soften “s” a la Gollum. It’s weird, definitely something never seen before or after.
Conclusion
The Maltese Falcon was surely an original work when it came out in 1941. It paved the way to the noir genre that I adore, but unlike other classics of that period, this one didn’t age well. After 70 years of noir, we saw way better, more structured, and compelling plots. The genre has been blessed by the finest directing possible in the likes of Tarantino or his fella Rodriguez. Maybe it’s because I’m used to them, I couldn’t digest John Huston’s rough style.
Maybe I’ve perceived the twists in the film as cliches, when cliches were not at all in 1941. Maybe, I couldn’t really follow the non-stop slang the characters exchange so fast, sounding as if they speak another language, so different from today’s English. Maybe that language sounds even more alien and irritating every time Spade addresses his women as “angel”, or “sweetheart”.
I don’t know, but I know I didn’t enjoy this screening and though it’s a classic, The Maltese Falcon won’t find any special place in my heart.
My rating: 3/10