Adam Olah
The Maltese Falcon” wasn't expected to be much of a success; it was simply given to screenwriter John Huston as a chance to make his directorial debut. But thanks to Huston's meticulous preparations, his clear vision of Dashiell Hammett's world and its bold implementation on the screen, this movie became an instant success that hasn't lost its edge since 1941. This detective story, considered the first major film noir, is dark, cynical and shameless, just as we like it in the 21th century, but with the original style and grandeur of the 1940's.
The plot is supposed to revolve around an invaluable falcon statuette that several characters are trying to acquire. However, the item is really irrelevant even in terms of the story – except for its supposed monetary value – and even the plot itself wouldn't be much to remember on its own, not for several decades anyway. The fight over the statuette is merely an excuse for the film's grandiose characters to clash, unite and betray in the most amusing ways. The movie is mostly driven by the ambiguous relationship of private eye Sam Spade (Humphrey Bogart) and his client Ms. O'Shaughnessy (Mary Astor), who are already quite ambiguous figures on their own.
Astor plays an incredibly bold liar about whom you can never tell if she's lying compulsively or she's so proficient that she can profit from lying again and again even after being exposed – because she does that and still succeeds most of the time. You probably could find out her fake “schoolgirl act” even in the first scene, but it's performed delicately enough that even when “we mere men should have known better” already, you could still fall for it again. Sam Spade is no easier to figure out either. Bogart's detective is as hard boiled as it gets; no wonder he became the archetype of this kind of role. His actions are calculated, he won't shy away from verbal and physical aggression, and he doesn't exactly respect law enforcement, but it's still hard to find out which of his acts are supposed to be sincere and which aren't. Is he genuinely angry with the “Fat Man” or just puts up a performance by throwing his glass and shouting? We see his signature grin in the corridor when he leaves, but his hand is also shaking. He is a character – so much so that we don't mind Greenstreet repeating it over and over again. We just agree entirely.
Sydney Greenstreet gives a fantastic performance as Gutman, aka. the “Fat Man”. It was his first performance on screen, but everything he brings from the theatre is pure gold. He acts mannered in a very plausible and natural way, and it works amazingly well for the eccentric British character, while his mannerisms, facial expressions and resonant laughter also emphasize his excessive nature (which is already expressed by Greenstreet's proportions). His exotic, atypical British accent adds a lot to his performance, and is put to good use by Huston. The same goes for Peter Lorre's accent which is, again, paired with peculiar mannerisms that are quite enjoyable even if we don't realize that they're supposed to reflect his character's homosexuality.
Elisha Cook Jr., Hollywood's most notable “fall guy” and almost 40 at the time, plays the young gunman plausibly, and contributes a lot to his character. He's naive, goofy and makes a perfect target for Sam's abuse, but he still appears dangerous and determined. Wilmer's final stand against Sam – “I've taken all the riding from you I'm gonna take” – is magnificent even if he gets ridiculed for it ruthlessly; there's no place for romanticism in this cynical story. The detectives (Barton MacLane and Ward Bond) and the district attorney (John Hamilton) are not as helpless and obvious targets of Sam's abuse, but they’re likewise forced to illustrate Sam's surreal ability to have things his way – much like all the other characters, except for Effie (Lee Patrick), the only person whom with Sam is genuinely kind, and of course, Ms. O'Shaughnessy, who, as the femme fatale, proves to be a worthy opponent.
A good deal of the movie is shot with low-key lighting that plays well with the dubious moral attitude of the characters. Most of the scenes are shot in moderate low-angle shots that aren't very noticeable at first (except some shots of the “Fat Man”), but certainly contribute a lot to the apparent grandeur of the characters. There's also a lot of impressive, smooth camera movements that allows flexibility for several scenes, and often help us to stay with Spade's point of view. The music is also something that works almost unnoticed here: it adjusts the mood and adds tension here and there, and as much as neatly it’s done, you probably won’t remember much of it.
Huston was boldly innovative in different ways making “The Maltese Falcon”, and several of those innovations are preventing this movie from getting “old”. Maybe the most important factor in this regard is the movie's full-blown cynicism that is so natural in the 21th century. It's further enhanced by an ending that perfectly complies with the production code, but it still manages to retain a lack of positive morality. The production code got bent on other matters: Sam Spade mockingly calls both Lt. Dundy and Wilmer gay, and also has an affair with his partner’s wife (Gladys George), with very little consequence. Huston's superiors also weren't exactly happy about the inordinate amount of drinking and smoking going on, but he managed to preserve Hammett's world as it was. Thanks to these circumstances, “The Maltese Falcon” exhibits the virtues of classic hardboiled fiction and film noir; you get the real deal straight from the 1940's, but without any of the era's naiveté that could make it look silly.