March Review: The Maltese Falcon (1941) (Patreon)

Some films are iconic because they're unique, others remain in memory due to their sheer craft, and others yet linger in our cinematic consciousness because they exemplify a genre, a moment. The Maltese Falcon (1941) is a clear member of that final category, becoming a textbook example of not only the noir genre, but storytelling tropes that persist in filmmaking today. Is it any good as a movie, and not as a case study?

Noir cinema is best known for its crime stories, and most remembered as the blinds-lit detective's office the femme fatale inevitably saunters into, but that's not necessarily all the key features of the genre. Noir filmmaking was tight, fast, and stark. It forwent establishing shots in favor of simply cutting from location to location, no need to linger on our heroes. This relentless pace helps place many of the stories contained in the genre. Mysteries can unfold with a myriad of clues when the fat is trimmed off, your gangsters and grifters can get right to their morally dubious business, and your femme fatales can enter right at the start of the screenplay. All these stories are about tension, and noir choses to manufacture that tension not through slow growing dread and tense reveals, but by a persistent, unrelenting forward progress. This tight pacing, when augmented with stark, motivated lighting making full advantage of black-and-white filmmaking, is what make noir instantly recognizable. Dramatic, moody, and a little seedy, that's film noir.

You can reread the above paragraph to understand noir, or, much more easily, you could watch The Maltese Falcon (1041).

So how does a film end up as genre-defining? Is it enough to simply execute all the elements of cinematography and story in line with convention? Nope! Plenty of films feature moody lighting, crime stories, and quick edits, but The Maltese Falcon (1941) reigns supreme in cinematic memory because it not only embodies the noir filmmaking philosophy but adeptly elevates all aspects of production to create a genuinely good movie.

Sam Spade (Humphrey Bogart) and the mysterious trail of the priceless Maltese Falcon are perfectly placed in the world of film noir. The private eye is as quick and sharp as the cuts from scene to scene. The dialogue never lingers overlong, and Same pieces together the plot as it unfolds, no faster or sooner. Bogart is synonymous with the hard-boiled detective, and with his performance in The Maltese Falcon (1941), it's easy to see how he would get that reputation. He's joined by a cast of character performers who could only exist in a black-and-white world, all performing their roles with deadpan charm. Some stand-outs include the witty receptionist Effie Perine (Lee Patrick) and femme fatale who simply can't stop lying Brigid O'Shaughnessy (Mary Astor). The boys are good too, but the ladies steal the show.

The Maltese Falcon (1941) was rigorously storyboarded and planned, largely by freshman director John Huston, and it shows in the structure of its shots. While the transitions are the quick cuts and fades into action emblematic of film noir, within any given scene are meticulously blocked long tracking shots, foregrounds framing backgrounds, and exactly the right low angle to convey the feeling of a character. The Maltese Falcon (1941) never rests on a simple two-shot, it always asks what is the most interesting view of a scene. On a first viewing, it creates such a seamless experience you barely notice the cinematography, but stop to smell the camera angles and you'll never be disappointed.

Great performances, direction, and cinematography, how's the story? over the hour thirty a complicated web unfolds, as Sam Spade is pulled deeper and deeper into the search for the Maltese Falcon. While not as flashy as a modern crime thriller, the plot of The Maltese Falcon (1941) invites you to join Sam in his descent into his case, and this is one invitation you won't want to refuse. Of course, we know the secret of the McGuffin of all McGuffins, the titular Falcon, but Sam doesn't, and so watching all these players attempt to make their complex gambits still retains tension and enjoyment. It's classic, twisty, and feels almost wrong to enjoy.

So to answer the initial question, how did The Maltese Falcon (1941) come to be synonymous with Film Noir? By making a damn good movie. From career-defining performances to advanced cinematography and an early swing at crime fiction, The Maltese Falcon (1941) doesn't just define a genre, but elevates it. Some things are classic for a reason, and this is one bird who really is worth as much as they say.

8 out of 10 drugged glasses of brandy