Film Review: The Maltese Falcon (1941)
MacGuffin
MacยทGufยทfin
/mษหษกษfin/
noun BRITISH
a plot device in the form of some goal, desired object, or another motivator that the protagonist pursues, often with little or no narrative explanation. The MacGuffin’s importance to the plot is not the object itself, but rather its effect on the characters and their motivations.
Has there ever been a more tried and true plot device than the MacGuffin? Iโll spare you the history of the term other than to say that its use stretches from medieval tales of Arthurโs Holy Grail to Marcellus Wallaceโs briefcase in Pulp Fiction. To put it simply, itโs an object that everyone wantsโand it doesnโt matter in the slightest what it is or what it does. Characters, good and bad, fight over it. They lie, murder, backstab and double-cross to get it. They form uneasy partnerships that end badly for almost everyone, even the true of heart. Alfred Hitchcock is credited with popularizing the term in the 1930s and was perhaps its greatest practitioner, but in 1941 he got a run for his money. In John Hustonโs film (based on Dashiell Hammettโs 1930 novel), the MacGuffin is a jewel-encrusted bird known simply as โThe Maltese Falconโโand cold hearts and hot hands alike will stop at nothing to possess it.
The four parties after this rare and valuable statuette are so used to duplicity they hardly get upset when they themselves are the victim of it. Itโs all part of the gameโno sense getting upset, just pick up your pieces and keep playing. The trickery is constant, with one side playing the other, off the other, off the other, right up until the very end.
The Maltese Falcon is more than a good movieโsome call it the first Film Noir. On a formal level, it doesnโt share a lot with what the genre would come to be known for in the coming years (stark contrast, angular shadows, etc.), but thematically, weโre talking textbook Noir at its finest. There isnโt an honest or decent character in the whole movie. Even the so-called protagonistโhard-boiled, hard-drinking, and hard talking Sam Spade (Humphrey Bogart, in a career-changing role)โis just a hair shy of miscreant. He wears his cynicism fashionably on his sleeve and gleefully shows it off whenever possible.ย Bogartโs role and portrayal is the archetype for just about every private eye to hit the screen for decades to come.
Sam Spade is cold-blooded, possibly more so than the criminals he consorts with. Heโs a man of action, but of words too. Heโs capable of talking himself out of jams with the police, and of throwing punches with gun-toting hoods. Heโs smart, but when love is on the line, heโs even smarterโand possibly at his coldest. Listen to him cleverly get around the Hayeโs Code censors with half-hidden insults and allusions to his rivalโs masculinity (in a modern movie, heโd likely be the villain). This tough demeanor is quintessentially Noir, and itโs been reworked, retooled, mimicked, ripped off, and straight-up copied time and time again in the last seventy-five years โ some with success, some without, but Sam Spade and Humphrey Bogart are originals.
The rest of the cast is one of the finest ever assembled. With only four main players (five if you count Elisha Cook Jrโs Wilmerโpoor, poor Wilmer), theyโd all better be good. First, Mary Astorโs Brigid (or is it Ruth?) is delightfully deceptive. Spade may know telling the truth isnโt her strong suit, but heโll be damned if heโs not impressed by her guile. Even she may not know the truth anymore. Then, the ultimate pair: Sydney Greenstreet and Peter Lorre. If a more villainous and enjoyable duo as Kaspar Gutman and Joel Cairo has ever been captured on film, Iโd like to know what it is. Greenstreet, who was a 61-year-old stage veteran, made his film debut in The Maltese Falcon. His presence is undeniable, with his performance to become the model for rich, thrill-seeking underworld figures whoโll stop at nothing to get what they want. Lorre had already made a name for himself by 1941, but really turned it on and relished in his role as Cairo. These two, along with Bogart, would star in another little movie a few years later called Casablanca.
The Maltese Falcon was Sydney Greenstreetโs screen debut, but it was John Hustonโs directorial debut. After years of bit parts and screenwriting, heโd convinced Warner Brothers to give him a shot at directing. They agreed but were apprehensive (the Hammettโs story had been filmed twice before, with both attempts being failures). When he came in ahead of schedule and under budget, they were naturally pleased, but still didnโt promote the filmโuntil it became a hit that is. Huston would go on to direct Bogart and many others in a string of hits through a career that would last decades. His work, like The Maltese Falcon, has a lean, efficient, and sturdy quality to it. Heโs been called the Ernest Hemingway of cinema (artistically, physically, and characteristically). An apt description.
Huston and cinematographer Arthur Edeson may have kept the film out of the literal shadows (unlike the Noirs to come), but they did utilize odd angles and interesting camera movements to help tell their story (along with Bogart’s Spade, another precursor to the genre). Watch as the camera moves around Greenstreet, and how it sits low to the ground. Itโs angled up so that you can see the ceiling above, skewing the frame and denoting treachery. Symbolism and foreshadowing are everywhere. Keep your eyes peeled.
The MacGuffinโthe actual itemโis basically meaningless. Itโs a device to help us understand how the involved parties interact, who they are, and the depths theyโll plunge to get what they want. The ending may surprise you (or not, depending on your level of fatalism). Two characters walk away unscathed (but for how long?), one might be on their way to the death house, and one carries on just as miserable as before. Does anyone learn anything? Probably not. Each is who they are, and that canโt be changed. In true Noir fashion, the cruelty and criminality exist already in our players, they just need something or someone to bring it out of them.
