December 14 movie: Dangerous Female. The first film version of The Maltese Falcon. I've seen this before, and it isn't a bad movie. I would have considered it a pretty good movie if it hadn't been followed by a spectacular movie made from the same source material. Georg and I decided that there were two main differences between these two versions.* First, the acting. This version starred Ricardo Cortez -- who was not Spanish or Latino, but was given that stage name in hope that he would become the next Valentino. Unfortunately he was the kind of actor who conveys emotion by making a frowny face when something sad is happening.
Second, the script. Huston's script was so much more, what's the word. Elliptical? The Dangerous Female script is riddled with as you know Bob dialogue. (Many, many thanks to Nellorat for that wonderful and useful phrase.) The Maltese Falcon puts the information out there much less intrusively, and lets the viewer connect the dots. There is a somewhat explainy scene at the end, as I recall, but for the most part you have to pay attention to keep up. Whereas in Dangerous Female there's always a scene coming up where the main characters will explain everything to each other, and to you.
The differing quality of the scripts is most painfully clear at the ending. Dangerous Female goes on and on with an epilogue that might have come from the book, and probably worked well there, but drained the life right out of the movie. Unlike the Huston version, which ends with so much impact.
For me at least, the main value of Dangerous Female was that it made The Maltese Falcon shine more brilliantly in comparison. Which made it worth watching, twice, but probably not a third time. At least not for awhile.
*There's a third version of The Maltese Falcon, called Satan Met a Lady, which I'm pretty sure I haven't seen. I put it in my Netflix queue.
Might have come from the book? Have you read it?
I'm asking, because if you haven't, I recommend it. Hammett's great. For me, his best book is Red Harvest, which is a wonderful, harrowing and unromantic account of a case in which the no-nonsense Continental Op ends up getting a little blood simple himself. The short stories are also incredibly good. He's like the flip side of Chandler: analytic where Chandler is emotional. Where Chandler tells you how he feels about something, Hammett describes everything so well you know without being told. (No slam on Chandler. I re-read both all the time.)
The radio version, with Edward G. Robinson as Spade, is pretty good, too, and I see what looks like a half-hour Bogart version as well.
It's really interesting to compare the 31 and 41 film versions of this story. You can tell that Dangerous Female is pre-code. First off the scene where Ruth Wonderly is forced to strip out of her clothes. Also the relationship between Gutman and Wilmer is made much more explicit -- at one point Spade derisively refers to Wilmer as "your boyfriend." And you can really see how the noir style had started to develop its conventions. Everyone (well, except for Greenstreet) is just a lot more bitter and cynical and jaded in the 1941 version.