The Maltese Falcon

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A 1941 film-noir classic based on the 1929 novel by Dashiell Hammett, starring one of my absolute favorite actors- legend Humphrey Bogart- the Maltese Falcon presents the story of Private Dick Sam Slade, and a missing persons case he and his partner take from a prospective client (Astor). Things, however, are not as they seem, as the case begins to spiral out of control for Sam, as fatal complications and an insurgence of self-interested characters begin showing up at Sam's doorstep while also piling onto the snowballing plot.

This story doesn't allow me to say much more if I'm to keep things fresh for you guys. I'll say this before diverging on a tangent of more personal reflection on the film than I usually take. The Maltese Falcon is easily one of the best film noir classics you could ever experience. While in this golden era of film, many scenes were set-pieces, and mainly utilized static shots without much pan or dynamics in-frame, this film sucks you in and you are so distracted by the web weaved within the repartee between Sam and his clients, you don't worry about fanciful editing or cinematography. The story sells itself, and it's wonderful.

I had the humbling pleasure to view this on the big screen in March 2016 for it's local 75th anniversary celebration re-release. I went to see it with one of my best friends, and fellow writer and film buff, for the first time we have had the chance to hang out outside work in years. Both hardcore Bogy and classic film fans, we decided that since we haven't hung out in forever, we were determined to make a day out of the event. He hadn't seen Deadpool yet, and (yes, it is completely possible to love classics like the Maltese Falcon AND love superhero satires like Deadpool) we planned to watch the Maltese Falcon prior to a showing of Deadpool.

To say the least, it was some intense culture shock in terms of a 75-years time span between the two, and the juxtaposition of cinematic anti-heroism was indeed jarring, though far from unappreciable. We spoke a great deal about film censorship of the past, most notably Peter Lorre's slightly suggestive homosexual undertones (there is even more in the novel) in how he was directed to handle his cane in certain scenes, and how, seventy-five years later, we have evolved to a point where censorship is dwindling and blissfully nearly non-existent, and even the onslaught of Deadpool's low-brow dick jokes at every turn, is allowed to let a character be represented on screen without borders or boundaries.

To retro-actively counter that- Boggart's Sam Slade needs not for pop-culture references nor masturbation humor. Sam Slade has one of the most useful of all tropes in terms of protagonist builds- the ability to read every other character like most people read a stop sign. He has no need for bullshit, and he can see through it like polished glass. Easily one of my favorite Bogy roles right up there with Rick in Casablanca.

I love this movie. I hope you'll watch it if you can appreciate classic film noir, because it's really good. At every turn it slaps you in the face with twists you do, and don't see coming.

And when you're slapped, you'll take it and like it.

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