Review of The Maltese Falcon (1941) by Cody B — 17 Aug 2011

The entire film noir genre can trace its roots back to this adaptation of Dashiell Hammett's signature hard-boiled detective story. Humphrey Bogart is a good fit for the morally ambiguous Sam Spade, whose own peculiar internal code of ethics motivates his pursuit of his partner's killer.

My feelings about this film are complicated; it's always more favorable on reflection than it is during a viewing, largely because of Spade's frequently glaring hypocrisies when it comes to Archer, his partner, and his suspect judgment where Mary Astor is concerned.

I'm sorry, but I've never understood Spade's obsession with Brigid O'Shaughnessy, an extremely bland-looking sociopath, from whom you could never expect more than a goodbye note on the coffee table at best, or at worst an icepick through the 3rd and 4th vertebrae.

John Huston's direction is first-rate, and set the bar for the rest of the genre to follow. Astor's fellow travelers Sydney Greenstreet and Peter Lorre are a hoot and you almost feel sorry for Elisha Cook Jr.

as he suffers repeated humiliation at the hands of Spade.