By
Ed Garea
The
Maltese Falcon (aka Dangerous
Female WB, 1931) – Director: Roy Del Ruth,
Writers: Maude Fulton, Brown Homes (s/p), Lucien Hubbard
(uncredited), Dashiell Hammett (novel). Stars: Ricardo Cortez, Bebe
Daniels, Dudley Digges, Una Merkel, Robert Elliott, Thelma Todd, Otto
Matieson, Walter Long, Dwight Frye, J. Farrell MacDonald &
Agostino Borgato. B&W, 80 minutes.
Those
new to classic film are usually surprised to learn that not only was
there an earlier version of this iconic film, but also how much it’s
like the 1941 remake, which is considered by critics and film
historians to be the definitive version. Those of us who have spent
years watching classic films know that Warner Bros, frequently
recycled its films. In fact, the 1941 version was the second remake
of the 1931 original. In 1936 the studio remade the 1931 version
as Satan Met a Lady, with Warren William, Bette Davis and
Alison Skipworth in the Kasper Gutman role. (This version is so
different and so wretched it deserves its own review.)
Having
read the novel and seen the movie as a teenager, I was a big fan of
Hammett and his writings. I saw the 1931 version in college and
marveled at its faithfulness to the text. Over the years the love of
both these movies and the author never left me. And I spent many an
hour reading obscure articles on the author, the book and the movies.
The
main difference between the 1931 and 1941 versions is the
transcendent issue of care. In 1941 great care was taken to ensure a
good movie. The screenplay and the cast were chosen after careful
deliberation and the director, though a novice, went to great lengths
to ensure the movie’s quality.
For
anyone who has not seen the ’41 version or read the book, the plot
goes as follows: Sam Spade (Cortez) and Miles Archer (Long) are
private eyes hired by the attractive Ruth Wonderly (Daniels) to tail
a nefarious character named Thursby, suspected in her sister’s
disappearance. Archer opts to follow Thursby but is shot and killed
in doing so. The police are suspicious of Spade. Complicating things
is the fact that Spade was engaged in an affair with Archer’s wife,
Iva (Todd). The police then discover Thursby’s body, also shot to
death.
Spade
needs to clear himself. Wonderly hires him to protect her but is
evasive on the details. Spade discovers that she and three other
criminals named Cairo, Gutman and Wilmer are after a jewel-encrusted
falcon, yet no one admits to having it. What does the bird have to do
with deaths of Archer and Thursby? Will Spade find the real murderer
before the police pin rap on him? And is he falling for a client he
knows he can’t trust?
Both
’31 and ’41 versions adhere to this basic plot. The difference is
that Spade is shown to be much more of a womanizer than he is in the
’41 version. We first meet him as a woman is leaving his office. We
don’t see her face, but we do see her adjusting her stockings,
which spells out what was going on behind the closed doors. Right
after she leaves, Spade is kissing his secretary, Effie (Merkel) on
the neck and giving an admiring glance to her posterior before
cleaning up his office, which suggests it was in use as an adult
playpen.
The
relation between Spade and partner Miles Archer (Long) is much the
same as in the 1941 version. Spade is having an affair with Archer’s
wife, and we’re pretty sure Archer is aware of it, but doesn’t
care.
After
Spade is notified of Archer’s murder, he goes down to the scene of
the crime. Things follow as in the ‘41 version except for the fact
that, while leaving, Spade stops to chat in Chinese with a local
merchant. (this scene is not in the book, either.)
In
then ’31 version Ruth spends the night at Sam’s apartment and
while she sleeps he sneaks over to her flat and searches it, looking
for the falcon, convinced that she knows where it is. However, he
finds nothing.
The
introduction of Cairo, Gutman and Wilmer happen for the most part as
they do in the ’41 version, though in Huston’s version there is
more emphasis on Gutman, thanks to a wonderful performance by Sydney
Greenstreet. Gutman is accompanied by his right hand man, Wilmer
(Frye), who plays the role much like Elisha Cook does in the later
version.
The
’31 version now plays out like the later version, with Gutman
drugging Spade after Cairo tells him the falcon is due in on a boat
from China; the bird being dropped off at Spade’s office by Captain
Jacoby (Borgato) before he dies from gunshot wounds; and Spade
returning home after hiding the falcon to find Cairo, Gutman, Wilmer,
and later Ruth (who was hiding) waiting for him.
Sam
insists that he will deliver the statue as soon as they agree on a
fall guy in order to clear him with the police and Gutman reluctantly
agrees to hand Wilmer over. When Effie delivers the statue to Sam at
his apartment, they discover it is valueless. Wilmer uses the
opportunity to escape through the kitchen window, while Gutman and
Cairo stick up Spade and demand all of the money they’ve given him
returned.
Wilmer
later kills Gutman and Cairo while Sam accuses Ruth of killing Miles.
Though he has fallen in love with her, he turns her over to the
police. In a departure from the book, we see Ruth at her trial, where
she is identified by an eyewitness from Chinatown – the same one
who was talking with Spade on the night Miles was murdered. Ruth is
convicted and sent to prison, with Sam receiving a political
appointment as a reward.
The
differences between the ’31 and ’41 versions have everything to
do with the economic climate of the times. In 1931, Hollywood was
holding on by a thread, weathering the effects of a depression that
seems to be getting deeper rather than tapering off as other
depressions and panics had in the past.
The
philosophy of Warner Bros. in 1931 was to make movies, make them
fast, and then get on to the next one. The novel, about a crew of
low-life characters in pursuit of a legendary jewel-encrusted bird,
seemed perfectly suited to be filmed.
As
in the book, Sam Spade has well-deserved reputation as a ladies’
man, seducing female clients and even having an affair with his
partner's wife. As in the book, Cairo, Gutman and Wilmer are
homosexuals. Gutman, refers to Wilmer, as his "gunsel,"
which is prison slang for both a hired gun and a passive homosexual.
Director
Roy Del Ruth staged the film to emphasize its sexual mystique. Ruth
Wonderly spends the night in his apartment, Spade tells her he’ll
sleep on the couch, but when she awakes the next morning, there’s
an obvious indentation in the pillow she's not using to suggest where
he really slept. (It seems as if the writers added the line about Sam
sleeping on the couch to put off the censors.) There was also a scene
added during the confrontation at Spade’s apartment. Sam,
suspecting Ruth of stealing $1000, confronts her in the kitchen and
makes her strip to prove she didn’t steal the money. Although she
undresses out of camera range, Spade has a few articles of her
clothing thrown in his face. When the censors later objected to the
scene, studio production chief Darryl Zanuck tried to assuage them by
saying that because she didn’t throw her underwear at Spade, the
audience knew she wasn't naked.
Although
the film's gay element is somewhat subdued, it was far more apparent
than in the ’41 version. For instance, at Spade’s apartment,
Gutman fondles Wilmer's cheek while setting him up to be the fall
guy.
As
in the ’41 version, Cairo, Gutman and Wilmer meet their demise off
screen, del Ruth leaving it too the imagination of the audience.
Huston merely has Spade telling then police about Cairo and Gutman
about too leave town and warns them about Wilmer.
The
final confrontation between Spade and Ruth occurs as in the ’41
version, the main difference being that Bogart’s Sam Spade is not
as indifferent as Cortez is in the Pre-Code version. For instance,
Ruth cries, “Then you’ve been pretending. You don’t
care. You don’t love me!” To which Spade can only reply, “Oh,
I think I do. But what of it?” Bogart’s Spade doesn’t
pussyfoot around, telling her that he can’t be sure of her loyalty,
that someday, when it suits her, she’ll kill him. (“All we’ve
got is that maybe you love men and maybe I love you.”) He also
brings in a detective’s code about having to take action when one’s
partner is killed; it doesn’t matter what you may have thought of
him. And the final denouement is the epitome of the noir
relationship: “I won’t because all of me wants to.”
The
fatal flaw in the 1931 version is its complete lack of tension. We
really don’t get the feeling that Cairo and Gutman are going to
pose much of a threat to Sam Spade. This, I think, has much to do
with the quality of the acting. Cortez, as Spade, grins and mugs his
way through the film, and Dudley Digges and Otto Matieson are nowhere
near the menace level of Peter Lorre and Sydney Greenstreet, who
almost steals the ’41 version from Bogart. The only performance
with noting in the 1931 version is Bebe Daniels, who is excellent as
Ruth Wonderly, although she has nowhere near the acting chops of Mary
Astor. Thelma Todd and Una Merkel aren’t around that much to make a
proper impression; more’s the pity.
In
the final analysis, the Pre-Code version is a wonder when first
viewed, but repeated viewings bring out its weaknesses in comparison
to the 1941 classic. However, it’s far more worth the time than the
1936 version, Satan Met a Lady, which was so wretched
that its star, Bette Davis, fled to England to get out from under her
contract to Warner Bros.
