Film Noir Shorts- The Big Sleep- Bogie and Chandler- A Natural

I admit to being a film noir fan of long standing. Maybe it was the fact of growing up in the time of black and white television and watching all those late night movies which were freely available at the time. Maybe it was that tight, if improbable, dialogue, the relatively simple plots and the dramatic effect of the shadows of black and white photography on mood. In any case, The Big Sleep fits nicely into that mix. The plot line is fairly simple- Out in 1930’s California an old man with two young wild daughters mixed up in who knows what is looking for his old surrogate drinking companion (an Irishman, naturally) who is missing- enter Phillip Marlowe, gumshoe extraordinaire, who will go through hell and high water to find him dodging bullets, blackjacks, gangsters, crooked cops and meaningful glances from the daughters in order to satisfy his client’s wishes. Intrepid, this Marlowe. Of course, as always the real guilty parties will have to face justice, some kind of justice. That is Marlowe’s way, as well. In any case one should read Raymond Chandler’s book by the same name, that this movie is based on, to get a better feel for the language, his original plot, and better insight into the motivations of the parties. This movie was remade in color in the 1980’s and is probably truer to Chandler’s designs but this Bogarted version is the definitive Big Sleep.

Hell No They Ain’t No Angels-Humphrey Bogart’s We’re No Angels

Hell No They Ain’t No Angels-Humphrey Bogart’s We’re No Angels

DVD Review

From The Pen Of Frank Jackman

We’re No Angels, starring Humphrey Bogart, Peter Ustinov, Aldo Ray         

Over the past couple of years I have been running the table on Humphrey Bogart films, as an expression of the kind of guy, cinematic guy anyway, that I could relate to as a kid (and still admire in certain ways). You know a guy that no one would dare throw sand in their face, certainly no woman, not because of his physical size so much as that he had a look that if somebody was so foolhardy as to do such a deed they would find themselves in a bad place on some dark, foggy night when they least expect to find themselves facing his personal bastinado. A guy not looking for trouble but not ducking it either, not ducking even some punk hood, all what did they call it back then, yeah, all “gaudy and show” with some dangling hot gun that he would be more than happy to take away from such a miscreant, and the punk, being a punk would have to take it, have to take it or else. And speaking of dames, twists, frills, frails or whatever you called women, good-looking femme fatale-type women in your old corner boy night, including good-looking dames who might be so foolhardy as to throw sand in a guy’s face (not literal sand but fog-bound sand and story to mix a guy up beyond belief), a guy who was not afraid to take a little gaff for some twisty dame who gave him that come hither look. A guy ready to chase some windmills for that look just to see where it led. Best of all a guy not afraid to run the rack on some bad guy (or a good guy who was looking to turn bad) just because he was a bad guy, maybe kept some old man awake at night, worrying, or some frail tied up to his rackets, that kind of thing.  

Now some of those attributes might not mean a lot, might in fact be kind of old-fashioned, kind of rough male of the species over the top these days in some circles in polite Western society but there you have it. For a time that running the table included reviews of Bogie as the hard-nosed, take no prisoners, give no quarter and take none shoot first and ask questions later mad monk gangster Duke Mantee who really was a man of his deadly word in the matchup between primitive man and the increasingly effete intellectual modern world man featured in The Petrified Forest and the take no nonsense world-weary, world-wary detective Sam Spade ready at the drop of a hat to either chase some stuff of dreams windmills or to put the handcuffs on tight for some wayward femme with that come hither look and that jasmine scent or whatever the hell she was wearing in the film adaptation of Dashiell Hammett’s The Maltese Falcon. Reviews as well of the jaded ex-pat (who had that funny little prior resume point of having been a “premature anti-fascist” in the 1930s struggle in Spain) “welcome to the struggle” ready to take on the whole German Army once he got religion and once she, and you know the she even if she did not have the price of that jasmine scent, for the seven thousandth time got under his skin Rick of Rick’s Café in Casablanca, and, oh yeah, along that same vein the knight in shining armor, or better because more useful sea-worthy boat captain ready to take on the whole Vichy French apparatus in the wartime (World War II version) to save a damsel in distress, a dame who would have gotten under anybody’s skin once she asked for that off-hand cigarette-lighting match and gave that come hither whistle, in the film adaptation of Ernest Hemingway’s To Have Or Have Not. And to give a couple more examples for those who don’t get the allure a couple of reviews of Bogie as the resourceful but also world-weary, world wary detective Phillip Marlowe who keeps the dreams of an old man alive (and his wayward daughters, including one who took dead aim at him as a windmill chaser and the other just dead aim, out of trouble) in taking a punk mobster down to size in the film adaptation of Raymond Chandler’s The Big Sleep and as a  “don’t leave your buddy behind” true blue Army guy looking for the bad guys who tried to blocked him from doing just that in Dead Reckoning. So with just those few examples you can see that they were all films where Bogie exhibited certain manly traits that were (and some may still be) worth emulating. And then we come to the film under review, We’re No Angels, and the guy switches up on us. Turns into a Good Samaritan, of sorts, an ironic one splashed with a little humorous bend too.           

What gives? What gives, just to give a snapshot of what this film is about, is that Bogie is one of three hardened convicts (the other two played Peter Ustinov and Aldo Ray), French convicts, hard cases all (murderers, career criminals) who are doing hard time at that little maximum prison resort in the Caribbean, Devil’s Island. But being resourceful, especially around Christmas time, they escaped to the town nearby with plans to set sail for France and to take up their old lives as carefree guys once again, maybe a heist here, a con there, simple stuff. But first they need dough, plenty of dough, and some new duds since to grab that departing ship requires not just dough but a certain look, a look like you did not just escape from high security Devil’s Island.  So they planned to rob a clothing merchant to give them that cash, and throw in the duds while they were at it. Turned out though, as the film slowly developed, the merchant was no good as a businessman having failed in France and been sent out to the boondocks by his greedy rich cousin, a nefarious relative as it turned out, no question, had a wife, a fetching wife, no question, who stood by him (they don’t always, the fetching ones), and a sweet teenage daughter, all betwixt and between, who was in love with, well, you know how teenagers are, in love with being in love.   

So our hardened criminals, our nefarious bad guys slowly turned things around and went from attempted robberies and petty pilfering of civilian outfits to Good Samaritans and help the merchant (by getting rid of, getting rid in a very final way, the greedy cousin who had come from France for an inspection), the wife (still standing by her husband to Bogie’s chagrin), and that smitten daughter (who fell in and out of love with one guy, and then in love with another, like I said a typical teenager) being witty, ironic, and funny by turns, especially Bogie. And get this, once they have spread their Christmas cheer they head back to jail, no, head back to hellhole Devil’s Island. What the heck is going on with our man Bogie. Give me Duke Mantee who would just as soon put a slug in a guy as look at him (and does in that endless cinematic battle between the primitive instincts of man and the modern attempts to curb those baser instincts which got a thorough-going test in the real world of the 1930s and 1940s) or Sam Spade who turned over, once he took a cold shower to wipe that come hither look out of his mind and opened a window to let the city air merge and melt that jasmine scent, that filled with the stuff of dreams femme fatale who just so happened to have an itchy trigger-finger to the coppers without a tear. Give me that Rick of Rick’s Café who gave up his honey, without or without the jasmine scent as a lure that was just the way it was with them, for the good of the cause or that made of sterner stuff skirt-chasing Captain Morgan once he saw she could sing too, sing and take a few knocks without crying about the matter. Okay, and give me that handy Philip Marlowe, avenger of sullen women’s sicknesses, avenger of old men’s broken dreams, avenger of wrong track turned right femmes, avenger of small time right gees and grifters by bad hombres who put paid to the career of one Eddie Mars or the stick to his guns, undeterred, inquisitive, and vengeful Rip not leaving his Army buddy behind, or anything to sullen his memory. You take him in We’re No Angels, okay.

***“You Know How To Whistle, Don’t You?”-Lauren Bacall And Humphrey Bogart’s To Have And Have Not

***“You Know How To Whistle, Don’t You?”-Lauren Bacall And Humphrey Bogart’s To Have And Have Not

DVD Review

From The Pen Of Frank Jackman

To Have And Have Not, starring Lauren Bacall, Humphrey Bogart, Walter Brennan, Hoagy Carmichael, directed by Howard Hawks, screenplay by William Faulkner, based on the novel by Ernest Hemingway, 1944

The recent passing away of the actress Lauren Bacall (Summer, 2014) got me to thinking about watching (again) her very first movie with her paramour met on the film then, Humphrey Bogart, the now classic To Have and Have Not. And so I did and reminded myself how that film has always been at the top of my list for the greatest films that I have seen. And why not. Look at the pedigree. Based on a novel by Ernest Hemingway (although in the end quite loosely for I do not believe a fox like Marie, the role Ms. Bacall plays in the film, would have stayed in the same room as the novel’s Captain Morgan for a minute). Based on a screenplay at least in part written by William Faulkner who had a feel for such dialogue. Some musical interludes played by the great popular composer (Stardust, How Little We Know), Hoagy Carmichael, as the worldly piano player, Cricket, at the bar of the hotel where Marie and Captain Morgan (Steve before long, before she gets her hooks into him) play out their dance. A very good performance by Walter Brennan as a drunk who thinks he is watching out for the good captain. Directed by well-regarded Howard Hawks. But all of that is so much eye-wash what makes this film great is the chemistry between Marie and Steve. Chemistry I have mentioned elsewhere producing some of the sexiest scenes that two people can make with their clothes on. (Nudity would detract enormously from this mating ritual. Beside, unlike in pre-code 1930s Hollywood, no such thing would occur before the screen. Christ they were afraid to show assumed nudity scenes behind a shower curtain and gave married couples twin beds. Jesus.)              

Even the plotline pales before the dance these two put on. Frankly some of the story seems a bit of a rehash of the earlier Bogart vehicle (with Ingrid Bergman), Casablanca, where a recalcitrant Rick, owner of Rick’s American Café and recovering from a lost love affair gets involved with the Free French (the good guy against the damn Vichy) as well. Here day sports fishing boat Captain Morgan walks into the same thing except in Martinique rather than Morocco. But not before shedding his doubts about taking such risks, and of course when Marie enters the scene by coyly asking him for a match for her cigarette you know those fears will fall by the wayside. (By the way it seems that they, everybody from the breakfast table to the smoke-filled night clubs are lighting cigarettes every two seconds reminding me of how much smoking when on then in the movies, and in life including mine.)

See Steve (Captain Morgan to you guys who don’t know him) is strictly  hand to mouth on this day fishing trip business.  Right when they meet he has no dough having been stiffed by some goof fisherman (and a guy Marie clipped a wallet from which started the official dance between them). Once Marie tells her story though and how she hold up when the chips are down (at the police station where they are questioned by the local gestapo-types and she is slapped and later when she performs nurse duties without flinching) gets to him in the end. Naturally once Steve moves off the dime he is totally committed to seeing that some reckless resistance fighter who got nicked the first time he tried gets to finish the job he was sent to that outpost to do (getting a chief resistance man off Devils’ Island no mean task). Like I say all that is window-dressing for the moves Marie and Steve put on each other from that first tossed matchbook to the ‘you know how to whistles scene” to her seductively singing with Cricket to that shimmy she puts on as they walk out the door of the bar (Eddie trailing behind) off to see what the future brings-together. Thanks Bogie-Thanks Lauren-RIP        

*Once Again, 'The Stuff Of Dreams"- "The Maltese Falcon"- A Film Review

Click on the headline to link to a Wikipedia entry for the classic film noir detective film, The Maltese Falcon.

DVD Review

The Maltese Falcon, starring Humphrey Bogart, Mary Astor, Peter Lorre, Sydney Greenstreet, directed by John Huston, 1941

The first two paragraphs are taken from a review of Dashiell Hammett’s book The Maltese Falcon, also reviewed today, from which this film adaptation was, pretty closely, drawn.

“Dashiell Hammett, along with Raymond Chandler, reinvented the detective genre in the 1930's and 1940's. They moved the genre away from the amateurish and simple parlor detectives that had previously dominated the genre to hard-boiled action characters who knew what was what and didn't mind taking a beating to get the bad guys. And along the way they produced some very memorable literary characters as well. Nick Charles (and Nora), Sam Spade and Phillip Marlowe are well known exemplars of the action detective.

Hammett and Chandler also speak to a different, more macho if you will, but also a more world-wary and world-weary style of detection than today’s hyper-extended and techno-detail-oriented detectives who rely on computers and gadgetry more than guts. Still, with few exceptions, it is hard now to find a better proto-type for the kind of detective that writers of detective fiction wished they had, in their long, smoke-filled, whiskey-soaked, staring at that blank white page, writer nights (and we will not even speak of the days), dreamed up than Sam Spade. Nor a better, sparse, functional language-filled story line than old Dashiell Hammett thought up."

In literature and film there have been no lack of private detective-types depicted from the urbane Nick and Nora Charles (also a Hammett creation) of The Thin Man series to Mickey Spillane's rough and tumble Mike Hammer but the classic model for all modern ones is Dashiell Hammett's Sam Spade (the Humphrey Bogart role in the film) in The Maltese Falcon. Some may argue on behalf of Raymond Chandler's Phillip Marlowe and may have a point but as for film adaptations Spade wins hands down. Compare, if you will, Bogart's performance in The Maltese Falcon with his performance (good as it was, and as “hot” as it was with real life lady love, Lauren Bacall, be still my heart, co-starring) The Big Sleep. Get my point. But enough of that. What make's Spade the classic is his intrepidness, his orneriness, his dauntless dedication to the task at hand, his sense of irony, his incorruptibility, his willingness to take an inordinate amount of bumps and bruises for paltry fees and his off-hand manner with the ladies, femme fatales included, and a gun. And in The Maltese Falcon he needs all of these qualities and then some.

And for what? It is the bird, stupid. You know, the stuff that dreams are made of. This modern tale of greed and desire gets nicely worked with a cast of adventurers, including Sam's love interest, one femme fatale, Brigid, of course, who are serious, inept, and ultimately dangerous. There is a certain amount of off-hand humor as is warranted by some of the situations thrown in to boot. Sam is well up to handling everything thrown at him by is male adversaries. But, the dame (played by Mary Astor in the film), that is a different question. She is as greedy (if not more so) than the rest but she is ready to use her feminine wiles on even the incorruptible Spade in order to get that damn bird. That, dear friends, puts her beyond the pale and she will have many a lonely night in prison to think that through. In the end Sam's honor and the honor of his private detective profession is intact, and that's what counts in his world. Counts big, as it turns out.

From The Pen Of Joshua Lawrence Breslin- Humphrey Bogart’s Dead Reckoning- A Film Review

Click on the headline to link to a Wikipedia entry for the Humphrey Bogart film noir Dead Reckoning

DVD Review

Dead Reckoning, starring Humphrey Bogart, Lizabeth Scott, Columbia Pictures, 1947


Hey, Humphrey Bogart is no stranger to femme fatales, no stranger at all, heart of gold or heart of steel. He takes them where he finds. Like bewitching Lauren Bacall in their hot as it gets with clothes on, 1940s style sex sizzler, To Have Or To Have Not. Or Mary Astor and her bird dreams of gold fetish (and not above wasting more than a few guys with a few indiscreet slugs if they get in the way) in the film adaptation of Dashiell Hammett’s The Maltese Falcon. So old Bogie has certainly been around the block with some funny- thinking dames. Still he should have steered about eleven blocks clear of one Coral Chandler (played by husky-throated, pleading eyes daddy please just shot that guy for me please, Lizabeth Scott) and her, well, trigger-happy ways as put on display in the film under review, Dead Reckoning .

As it turns out this is not the first time Ms. Scott has tried to put a slug, or six, in more than one guy who got in her way. In a recently reviewed film noir in this space, Too Late For Tears, she played sweet Jane Palmer as a homicidal femme fatale with a big time lust for gold. But there she at least varied her routine up a little by just poisoning one guy (and probably driving another guy, her first hubby, to suicide). Here she has the six-guns blaring away. And still, to the very, very end guys were lining up, lining up with a grin on their faces just to get a whiff of that jasmine perfume . Jesus.

Let me explain a little why she had them running through hoops. Coral, a girl from the wrong side of the tracks, the hard Detroit tracks, stepped up a little in class and married a guy for his dough (no big deal there, gals, and guys, have been doing that since about the Stone Age), But she got tired of hubby and started running around with a college professor just before World War II. Problem? Yes, problem and so, whichever story she told that you believe, said hubby when south in a blaze of gunfire. The college professor took the fall for her, no questions asked, and with that now patented grin on his face just like every other guy. Fortunately (for a while) he skipped town.

That is where Captain Bogie comes in. Seems he and our professor saved the world for democracy over in Europe during WW II and they are to be feted with big time war medals for their efforts. Problem, yes, problem. Our professor can’t take the publicity and beats it back to the podunk town down South that he was from to work things out with Coral and maybe square himself with the law. No go. He ends up torched beyond recognition in some dark raven for his efforts. Bogie when he hears of this, being his superior officer and all, and well, just being Bogie in the 1940s, has to square things for his old buddy.

And he does about six bodies later (okay, okay maybe less). See he falls for Ms. Coral along the way (yah, even Bogie had that grin on his face) and tried to get her out from under whatever trouble she had told him she had with a certain nightclub owner who had the goods on her (and who had back in old Detroit days been her hubby) . But this will put paid to this case, grin or no grin. While the white knight Bogie is chasing bad guy night club owner out the door she is waiting in the rain, gun at the ready, to shoot whoever comes out first. Of course she thinks it will be, ah, Bogie. What did I say before, oh yah, Bogie stay eleven blocks away from Coral Chandler. Hell, forget that, stay a mile away. Got it.

Films To While Away The Time By- Humphrey Bogart’s “In A Lonely Place”

Films To While Away The Time By- Humphrey Bogart’s “In A Lonely Place”

DVD Review





In A Lonely Place, starring Humphrey Bogart, Gloria Grahame, Columbia Pictures, 1950


I admit, admit up front, that I am partial to rugged windmill-chasing Humphrey Bogart roles like him as Sam Spade in The Maltese Falcon trying to get a little rough justice in this wicked old world and not afraid to take a beating for the cause, or bust up some wrong gee dreams in the process (although admittedly getting a little thrown off the tracks by a whiff of Mary Astor’s perfume, but that is to be expected). Or another windmill-chaser, Rick, in Casablanca when he knows, knows deep in his soul that the troubles of three love-stuck people in that wicked old World War II Nazi world didn’t amount to a “hill of beans” against the darkening night (although there too he was thrown off by that damn dame perfume). And what about his role in To Have And Have Not when he is again forced, as Captain Harry Morgan, to step it up a notch in that still wicked old World War II world (that time, come to think of it, he too got thrown off the tracks by a woman, by a whistler of all things).

After that big manly, windmill-chasing build-up, complete with cigarette, unfiltered, of course, Luckies probably, in hand it is hard to see old Bogie as kind of troubled, well, dope. A guy who can’t handle his emotions, or his fists, when some little breeze problem come s through the door. Against friend of foe, against some Johnny Rico or some frail. However that is exactly the problem before us as Bogie plays a troubled screen writer (aren’t they all, troubled that is, having to write some pretty tough stuff to earn their dollar a word).

Maybe I had better give you the “skinny” here so you’ll get my drift. Dix (Bogie) is a maybe “has been” writer who is in a dry spell. He invites a hat- check girl from the club home (what club? any club, any gin joint in the world) to give him the story line of a book that he is supposed to do the screenplay for. And that is all he wants. (Ya, I know that “come on” is weak but there it is). The problem: early next morning she is found dead, very dead, in some arroyo road side ditch. And Dix is primo suspect numero uno. Enter one lovely blond alibi, Lauren (played by Gloria Grahame), who had seen Dix sent the hat check girl off alone. Dix is still not off the hook though since downtown (the cops, okay) are not convinced that Dix didn’t do it. This unlikely pair begins an affair. The story then gets tense as Lauren (and others) begin to believe Dix did do it after he exhibited extreme anger (and violent acts) at the accusations. Well, Dix didn’t do it but he lost Laurel by his mad man American Psych 101 demeanor. And so he walks alone at the end, a contrite but broken man.

See, no foggy airfield sent-offs amid the clamor of war next fights, no fast boat get-aways to Free French territory and the fight continues, and no wacko stuff of dreams busted wiser man here, just alone. Bogie alone. Jesus.

From The Pen Of Joshua Lawrence Breslin- When Humphrey Bogart Single-Handedly Built The Second Front In World War II (Sort Of)-“All Through The Night”- A Film Review

When Humphrey Bogart Single-Handedly Built The Second Front In World War II (Sort Of)-“All Through The Night”- A Film Review

By Joshua Lawrence Breslin

DVD Review

All Through The Night, starring Humphrey Bogart, Conrad Veidt, Peter Lorre, Warner Brothers, 1941



No question, no question at all, at least cinematically, Humphrey Bogart did not like Nazis. In the United States or abroad. And he was willing to do something about it, cinematically. We all know and loved his dashing role as Rick, the owner of Rick’s American Café, in Casablanca, where he got off the dime and decided that the love interests of three little people in this wicked old world were not “worth a hill of beans” compared to lining up, lining up gratis as it turned out, against the Nazis (and their Vichy French sympathizers) and helping freedom-fighter Victor Lazlo out of a jam. Ditto when some second level free-fighter gets dinged in Vichy French Martinique and, he, Captain Harry Morgan this time, has to get off another dime and help the good old cause in To Have Or Have Not. Of course there love interest Lauren Bacall as a wayward fellow traveler made that decision so much easier.

Now to the film under review, a lesser film, and obviously one released (December 2, 1941) before the Americans went into World War II big time, All Through The Night, and Mister Bogart’s efforts to derail the German “fifth columnists” (real enough) infesting New York City and other American locales. Bogart, as “sportsman” (I am being nice) Gloves Donohue, the toast of Broadway is incensed when the guy who delivers his thrice daily cheesecake is mysteriously murdered. And when another “colleague” from the entertainment business is offed and he is the “fall guy,” patsy, he determinedly decides to get to the bottom of these cases.

And at the bottom is that a Nazi spy ring that is planning, planning assiduously a big time event, in New York Harbor. Naturally, after much rigmarole Gloves saves the day but not before taking care of that ring, and its nefarious leader, Ebbing (played by Conrad Veidt, last seen as a German Major at the Casablanca airfield very dead from a Rick bullet after trying to stop Victor Lazlo from doing his anti-Nazi business. Of course, the surprise in all of this rather long film given the rather simple task, is that it is played half-way for laugh.

Gloves Donohue, unlike Bogie portrayals of hardened criminals like Duke Mantee in Petrified Forest or Roy ‘The Boy” Earle in High Sierra is strictly out of some second-rate Damon Runyon hi-jinx episode. So there is plenty of slapstick, and wistful colorful New York language, to accompany this ferreting out of ‘fifth columnists” in our midst. Frankly I liked his grittily determined efforts as Rick and Captain Morgan better (and the female company provided a little better as well, although Leda, his love interest here and in a jam as well, could sing a torch tune, no question.) Like I say though chalk up one Humphrey Bogart as a guy that Nazis (and on the run hoods, who like to slap girls around, like Johnny Rico in Key Largo) should stay away from, very far away.

Out In The 1940s Crime Noir Night –Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall’s “Key Largo”

Out In The 1940s Crime Noir Night –Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall’s “Key Largo”

DVD Review

Key Largo, starring Humphrey Bogart, Lauren Bacall, Edward G. Robinson, Lionel Barrymore, and Claire Trevor, Warner Brothers, 1948



“One Johnny Rocco, more or less, in the world is no business of mine.” So says one world-wise, world weary, been-through- the-mill ex-World War II military man, Frank McCloud (played, understatedly, by one cinematic 1940s tough guy, Humphrey Bogart) in the film under review, Key Largo. And he was right, dead right that a single guy , a single guy singed by life’s pitfalls could, would, or should take on one more hoodlum in this wicked old world.

But, of course dead right or not, this would be an exceedingly short film if Frank threw in the towel when he faced one real live Johnny Rocco hoodlum (played to a sleazy tee by serious 1940s gangster-type Edward G. Robinson). Moreover I set up the last paragraph to see if those who follow crime noir in all its glory were paying attention. Crime noir, for the one hundredth time, no, the one thousandth time, is based, for good or evil, on one premise, crime at the end of the day does not pay. And criminals must pay, either forfeiting their lives or doing one to ninety-nine in stir, the can, prison, okay.

And so world-weary, world wary, seen it all Frank McCloud must once more call on the better angel of his nature to eradicate one very live Johnny Rocco. Let’s give a few plot details to flush on this story and see why Frank had to bust up some two-bit racketeer. One Johnny Rocco and his courtly entourage of petty thugs decided to hit Key Largo, specifically the Key Largo Hotel, off-season, maybe to save a little dough on the room rates. No, no, no to make a score off of some counterfeit dough hot off the presses that his old crony Ziggy will pass off as real kale. But see Johnny has a problem because although a few years back he was king of the hill up in the Midwest he has been deported as, if you can believe this, an undesirable alien and has been cooling his heels in anything goes Batista-era Cuba waiting for his big comeback. So this deal, real dough for fake (at a serious discount of course) brings him back to old Estatos Unidos, well, Key Largo which is only a stone’s throw from Cuba.

And everything would have been fine except just then one ex-serviceman, our friend Frank McCloud, who happened to have been the hotel owner’s (played by Lionel Barrymore) killed in action son’s commanding officer in the European Theater, decided to stop by and commiserate on his way to Key West. And everything would have been very fine if a big blow, a hurricane, did not also gum up the works forcing everybody (everybody except the Native Americans left to fend for themselves during the storm) into the claustrophobic hotel lobby area where the frayed nerves of all were exposed.

Naturally since old Johnny had all the guns, all the gunsels, and a very nasty disposition when he was crossed he was hands down the winner, right. No, no you were not paying attention. See a dame, well, actually two dames, come in to muck things up. No femme fatales here though, just Nora (played, very understatedly by Lauren Bacall), who was married to the owner’s deceased son and is pretty easy on the eyes. While the sparks between Bogart and Bacall do not light up the screen like they did in To Have And Have Not they go for each other. So Frank’s hands off the world approach is doomed, doomed big time, if he wants to get anywhere with Ms. Nora. And then there is Johnny’s lush girlfriend, Gaye, who old Johnny does not treat right, no way. Add a slap or two to Nora by Johnny and Johnny is doomed, doomed big time. RIP. Thus there is, whether it makes any different in the great mandela in fact one less Johnny Rocco in the world. Got it.

Out In The 1940s Crime Noir Night- Humphrey Bogart and Ida Lupino’s “High Sierra”- A Film Review

Out In The 1940s Crime Noir Night- Humphrey Bogart and Ida Lupino’s “High Sierra”- A Film Review

DVD Review

High Sierra, starring Humphrey Bogart, Ida Lupino, directed by Raoul Walsh, Warner Brothers, 1941


Okay, okay one more time- and this is for you, Roy “Mad Dog” Earle the “hero” of the film under review, High Sierra, crime does not pay. Some guys, some guys like brother Earle wind up learning that “hard knocks” lesson the hard way- lying face down at the bottom of some foreboding sierra canyon and no one , well, not no one, but hardly anyone to weep over their bones. And that, my friends, is the rough sketch lesson behind this classic Bogie gangster portrayal (and classic down-at-the heels dime-a-dance portrayal as faithful Marie, played by, well, an amazingly fetching Ida Lupino).

A little plot line is in order to show why, why, naw, skip that, we already have had our noses rubbed since childhood in the whys and why nots of crime doesn’t pay but why Brother Earle in the end took a bullet rather than be captured alive (even with his doll moll, Marie, ready to visit him every Sunday at some off the road prison locale).

See Earle is a three-time loser (or at least more than once) having been sprung from a full-book (okay, okay life) prison sentence (via an Indiana pardon) by an old-time gangster boss on his last legs. Apparently the talent pool of hard boys has dried up and an old pro that is not afraid to take heat and give some (without losing his head) is required for the caper the old don has in mind. A big jewelry heist in the Sierras (that’s in non-seaside California for the geography-challenged) at a watering hole for the well off. Easy stuff for Earle, as long as he keeps his head and the hired help don’t panic.

Now strictly as filler Roy, having had enough of the inside, and is planning to retire after he gets his cut from the heist. And for a while the film moves along with a little off-hand, oddball romance (no not Ida, not Ida yet). He befriends, on his road west, an old has-been farmer down on his uppers with a pretty crippled (oops, disabled) young granddaughter who he has ideas of marrying. Ya, I know, old Roy had been away for a while so maybe he is secretly skirt crazy, but this combination is strictly no go, no go on about seven counts, including that said granddaughter has enough sense to brush Roy the Boy off. Although not before Roy had sprung for a leg fixing operation. Roy, believe me, it never would have worked out. She would have run off with some Hollywood soda jerk or fast-talking garage mechanic and then where would you have been?

What works, and works like magic, is drop dead foxy, been around the block, been knocked around but is still taking the eight count, Marie. She had blew into town with a couple of what passed for hard boys in the hills of California night ( as boss man Big Mac said the talent ain’t like it used to be) and while they waste their time fighting over her favors she lights on our boy Roy. And after the granddaughter flame-out and some soft-soap sparring Marie wins the prize.

Naturally, yawn, the heist goes awry when some well-heeled dame screams and the bullets start to fly. And as the cops bear down through of series of narrower and narrower possibilities Roy is headed to that high sierra canyon, and death. No, Marie had it right. Like she had a lot of things right. He crashed out and was free, free as a three-time loser was ever going be.

Out In The 1950s Crime Noir Night- Humphrey Bogart’s “The Enforcer”

Out In The 1950s Crime Noir Night- Humphrey Bogart’s “The Enforcer”


Click on the headline to link to a Wikipedia entry for Humphrey Bogart’s The Enforcer

DVD Review

The Enforcer, starring Humphrey Bogart, Everett Sloane, Warner Brothers, 1951


I have been on something of a Humphrey Bogart tear of late. And when I get in the occasional tear mood I tend to grab everything of an author, singer, artist, or actor in sight. And hence this review of a very much lesser known Humphrey Bogart film, The Enforcer. If you are looking for the oddly charismatic Humphrey Bogart of To Have or To Have Not, Casablanca, The Big Sleep or even the lumpen thug, Duke Mantee, of The Petrified Forest then you will be disappointed. Here Bogie goes over to the other side of the law and plays a hard-working, tough (naturally) District Attorney who will stop at nothing to put the bad guys in this quirky police procedural.

Quirky because the film switches between the film's 1950s present and an earlier time in order to figure out why a woman was killed by her gun-for-hire boyfriend. As it turns out what Bogie and his police crew have stumbled into is the film version of Murder, Inc. a real phenomenon of professional killers who kill strictly for the dough, and no regrets. Except, as always, there is a weak link in the chain. That weak link is the that the woman killed by her boyfriend for seemingly no reason allegedly saw the psycho head capo of the murder for hire operation (played by Everett Sloane) kill a guy and he needed to cover it up. Was she the right woman? See the film and see if Bogie can figure things out. Figure the bad guys out as well as Phillip Marlowe or Sam Spade could.

When Humphrey Bogart Ruled The Crime Noir Night- "Dead Reckoning"

Click on the headline to link to a Wikipedia entry for Humphrey Bogart’s Dead Reckoning.

Dead Reckoning, starring Humphrey Bogart, Lizabeth Scott, 1947.

Elsewhere in this space I have noted my love for film noir. The black and white photography, the story lines, the sparse and functional language. However, not all film noir is created equal and that is the case here. Humphrey Bogart was a classic match for the genre-tough, rugged, resolute, loyal and always loyal to a pal come what may. Such roles as Philip Marlowe in The Big Sleep or Sam Spade in The Maltese Falcon come to mind. Here he tries to milk that work without being a detective but with the same qualities as he tries to defend the honor of a fallen and maligned fellow soldier. Add Lizabeth Scott as the femme fatale who jams up the works and you would seemingly have the makings of a fine film. When the plot holds interest to a point there is a very strong sense of déjà vu from previous work. If you want to see the film noir master at work then see Bogie in The Big Sleep or The Maltese Falcon. Save this one for back up.

Out In The 1940s Crime Noir Night-The Stuff Of Dreams- Humphrey Bogart’s “The Maltese Falcon”-A Film Review

Click on the headline to link to a Wikipedia entry for the crime noir classic, The Maltese Falcon.

DVD Review

The Maltese Falcon, Humphrey Bogart, Mary Astor, Sydney Greenstreet, Peter Lorrie, based on the crime novel by Dashiell Hammett, directed by John Huston, Warner Brothers, 1941

No question I am a film noir, especially a crime film noir, aficionado. Recently I have been on a tear reviewing various crime noir efforts and drawing comparisons between the ones that “speak” to me and those that, perhaps, should have been better left on the cutting room floor. The classics are easy and need no additional comment from me their plot lines stand on their own merits, although I will make some comment here. Others, because they have a fetching, or wicked, for that matter, femme fatale to muddy the waters also get a pass. Some, such as the film under review from the early 1940s, The Maltese Falcon, offer parts of both.

Generously offer parts of both here as an exemplar of the genre with one of the classic detectives of the age, Sam Spade. The plot line works because it is a prima facie, hard-boiled example of the lengths that humankind will go in pursuit of “the stuff of dreams.” As for femme fatale energy, although my personal 1940s favorite is Rita Hayworth, it is provide by the fetchingly wicked Mary Astor. Yes, I can see where old Sam Spade will jump through a few hoops, hell, many hoops, to get next to that one once she starts making her moves. Watch out Sam.

Although every serious crime noir aficionado should know the plot to this one by heart I will give a short summary for those three people in the classic crime noir world who have not seen (or read) this one-yet. It is, frankly, about a bird, and not just any bird but a historically significant gem –ladened statue of a one, and one moreover that will bring a good price on the black market where such things are traded as a matter of course. That is where the “stuff of dreams” gets everyone evolved in trouble. Who has it (or doesn’t have it), for how long, and what they will do in order to get it (and keep it) provides the driving force of this film as it did with classic noir detective writer Dashiell Hammett when he wrote it. The film is fairly true to the spirit of the novel, including much of the dialogue. Of course, along the way certain alliances are made (and unmade) as Sam Spade tries to maneuver among the parties interested in the object, including the aforementioned Mary Astor, a band of high- end brigands led by Sidney Greenstreet, and maybe others who have fallen by the wayside in pursuit.

Dashiell Hammett was known, correctly known, along with Raymond Chandler, for taking the crime detective out of the police procedural/ society amateur detective milieu and permitting their detectives to take a few punches, give a few punches, flirt with the femme fatales, and use the sparse language of the streets to bring some rough justice to this sorry old world. Sam Spade here takes more than his fair share of hits in order to make sense out of the mess that Ms. Astor brings to his door (and initially his partner, the late Miles Archer). And that is the rub. The various characters here are willing, more than willing, to murder and maim to get the damn bird and so Sam has to, on more occasions that he probably wished, weigh what to do about it. See that is where the femme fatale to muddy the waters part comes in, that damn perfume and that dangerous sassy manner that will drive a man, even a rough justice seeking man a little too close to the edge. But in the end the code of honor, or just an idea of it, drives Sam away from the perfume and back on the straight and narrow. Later when he thinks about that perfume he still will be wondering if he did the thing the right way. Ya, dames will do that to you, tough detectives or just regular joes. I know I was ready to throw my lot in with her, share of the bird or not.

Note: This will not be the last time that Humphrey Bogart played the classic noir detective. Or work with Lorrie and Greenstreet. He got his shots at playing Phillip Marlow in Raymond Chandler’s The Big Sleep. In a sense Bogart as an actor, a strange sense since he was not “beautiful,” defined that kind of detective- the “tilting at windmills” guy not too fragile to take a punch, give a dame the once over, and bring a little of that “rough justice” to the world, especially a world where the stuff of dreams went awry more often than not.

In The Days Soviet-American Friendship Society- Humphrey Bogart’s Action In The North Atlantic

In The Days Soviet-American Friendship Society- Humphrey Bogart’s Action In The North Atlantic

DVD Review

From The Pen Of Frank Jackman

Action In The North Atlantic, starring Humphrey Bogart, Raymond Massey, screenplay by John Howard Lawson, 1943      

No question sailors, guys who are sworn lovers of the sea even if they born in wheat fields, who find landlubbers and stability tough to take are a different breed, especially the guys who served in the merchant marines the subject of the film under review, Humphrey Bogart’s Action In The North Atlantic. No question these were tough guys especially in the old days when they  had a girl in every port, maybe two if they were adventuresome, drank their hard paid wages off in waterfront saloons mixing it up with other sailors, or girls whatever came first and put the fear into even tough old swabbies, navy guys who were no slouches if it came right down to it. Civilians, smart civilians, stayed away from that waterfront or places like Scollay Square in Boston when the ships were in.         

Well some much for the tough guy stuff because this film, a pretty straight forward pro-Allied forces World War II war propaganda film, also showed two other sides of these tough guys. One was their sticking together when times got tough out in the rough seas Atlantic when a big gale could sent a ship down with the fishes and each man needed to be able to depend on the prowess of the others when Mother Nature turned nasty. Also especially during wartime where in addition to the rough seas the Germans were wolf -packing submarines to pick off isolated merchant ships plying the waters to Europe with supplies. That sticking together included their adherence to the National Maritime Union (NMU) and the union hiring hall which was won in hard fought battles against the shipping bosses. A good example of that hiring hall in action is shown in the film as guys lined up to get work on the next ships coming in. The other aspect shows their serious patriotism for their country and its allies in getting the needed supplies to Europe which is the heart of this film.

The action here is pretty straight forward as you would expect, no frills, with the first part of the film showing how vulnerable isolated basically unarmed merchant ships were in the North Atlantic when the U-boats picked up the scent.  Joe (the first officer of the ship played by a grim and determined Humphrey Bogart) and his ship’s captain (played by a grim and determined Robert Massey in an old puritan way evoking a gentler Captain Ahab) show their metal after they are hit by an enemy torpedo and have to abandon ship only to be rammed in their lifeboat by the U-boat and left on a raft for many days before they are rescued.  

Now most civilians, landlubbers, would consider that enough adventure for a life-time and pass on going out to sea again for the duration but not old tars like Joe, the Captain, and the surviving crew. After a short time on shore they are off again on a new ship, a Liberty ship freshly built which made their old sunken tub seem like a clipper ship or something. (Although the film puts the Liberty ships in their best light their record was very uneven since they were built very quickly, one a day from what I heard later when someone from the Fore River Shipyard near where I grew up, and were unreliable overall many going down as a result of poor workmanship.) But this run was to be different a run in a convoy escorted by naval war ships to, well, Murmansk in the Soviet Union, an ally then facing the brunt of the German land and air assaults and in need of supplies, and hence the title of this review.

Of course captains of German U-boats running in wolf packs were licking their lips over this development since it would be like shooting fish in a barrel. Or so they thought. The captain and Joe’s Liberty ship drifted from the convoy and they seemed to be dead in the water against a U-boat that was tracking them for the kill. Needless to say despite being down for the count they made that U-boat sink like a stone after ramming it. And so bedraggled the ship got to Murmansk and the much needed supplies get delivered. A job well done and thanks.

A note: The NMU in the World War II period was filled with Communist Party supporters who volunteered for the dangerous Murmansk run as did supporters of the Trotskyist Socialist Workers Party both groups acting in practical support of their defense of the Soviet Union positions. The screenwriter of the film, John Howard Lawson, after World War II when the red scare Cold War descended on the world and the previous ally, the Soviet Union, became the new main enemy was part of the Hollywood Ten who were blacklisted and jailed for their support to the American Communist Party. Such are world politics.       

Out In The Film Noir Night- Dashiell Hammett’s The Maltese Falcon

Out In The Film Noir Night- Dashiell Hammett’s The Maltese Falcon

Films In Brief

The Maltese Falcon, written Dashiell Hammett, starring Humphrey Bogart, Mary Astor, Sidney Greenstreet

In literature and film there have been no lack of private detective-types depicted from the urbane Nick Charles (also a Hammett creation) to Mickey Spillane’s rough and tumble Mike Hammer but the classic model for all modern ones is Dashiell Hammett’s Sam Spade (the Humphrey Bogart role in the film) in The Maltese Falcon. Some may argue Raymond Chandler’s Phillip Marlowe and may have a point but as for film adaptation Spade wins hands down. Compare, if you will, Bogart’s performance in The Maltese Falcon with The Big Sleep. Get my point. But enough of that. What make’s Spade the classic is his intrepidness, his orneriness, his dauntless dedication to the task at hand, his sense of irony, his incorruptibility, his willingness to take an inordinate amount of bumps and bruises for paltry fees and his off-hand manner with the ladies and a gun. And in The Maltese Falcon he needs all of these qualities and then some.

Out In The Film Noir Night- Ernest Hemingway’s To Have And To Not

Out In The Film Noir Night- Ernest Hemingway’s To Have And To Not

Films In Brief

To Have Or To Have Not, based on Ernest Hemingway’s novel, starring Humphrey Bogart, Lauren Bacall, Walter Brennan

A story based, very loosely based I might add, on Ernest Hemingway’s short novel. A screenplay written in part by William Faulkner. The lead roles played by the charismatic Humphrey Bogart and the dishy Lauren Bacall with able assists by Walter Brennan and the legendary songwriter Hoagie Carmichael. Some classic Hollywood lines. What is not to like about this 1940’s black white film that still plays well after over fifty years. Only if you naively expected faithfulness to the author’s novelistic intent by those who bought the film rights would you complain. But, don’t be silly it happens all the time. If you want Hemingway’s gritty tale of a down and out sea captain scratching out a living for his family anyway he can go read the book. Here we are talking about the film adaptation. And on those terms what a seamless piece of cinematic art.

As is the case in most of the early movies the story line is simple. Jaded boy meets slightly world-weary girl in the throes of Vichy-administered Martinique during World War II. Naturally, given the times, the local variant of the French Resistance is in need of help and a skittish, but in the end courageous, Captain Morgan (the Bogart role) is dragged into the middle of it. Some of this is an echo of the story line in Casablanca but this time Bogart, thankfully, does not let the dame go. All the politics and heroics aside this film is all about the romance. For a 1940’s film the sexual tension and resolution between Morgan and Slim (Bacall’s role) is as steamy as it gets with two people who still have their clothes on. It probably does not hurt the romantic buildup that Bogart and Bacall were an item off-screen, as well. If you want classic Bogart and Bacall this is for you.