by Brian.


"...Down these mean streets a man must go who is not himself mean, who is neither tarnished nor afraid. The detective in this kind of story must be such a man. He is the hero, he is everything."

-Raymond Chandler


A lone figure on a dark, rain-slicked street, a woman silhouetted, her face filled with deception, a shadow of a doubt distorted across the ceiling of a deserted living room; these are the pigments of Noir. Images of bright futures and happy childhoods are not welcome here in the Big City, where crime runs rampant and everybody's got dirt on their shoes. The innocent Jefferson Smith or George Bailey cannot survive here, for life is not as simple as it used to be, and resolutions are definitely not as easy to come by.

The term "Film Noir" means different things to different people. Some consider it to be a genre, some a time period. Some consider films such as Chinatown or Body Heat to be Noir, where others dismiss them as either knock-off or Neo-Noir. Like evolution vs. creationism and Macintosh vs. PC, this argument will continue indefinitely. Why? Well, just as the characters within, Film Noir's boundaries are not black and white but a hazy landscape of gray. While certain films conclusively define themselves as Noir, others do not. Stagecoach is not but Scarlet Street is, Bringing Up Baby is not but The Big Heat is, but is Mildred Pierce, a dark tale about a mother's desire to raise her children properly, considered so? What darkens these films to black? Is it the recurring themes of loneliness or hopelessness? Do the roles of violence and isolation play a hand? Whatever the reason, certain films have it and others do not. Two such archetypal films, classically demonstrating many "Noir-ish" themes and techniques, are The Maltese Falcon and The Big Sleep.

These two films share much of Film Noir's trademarks, both on a technical level and the thematic. They both adhere to the characteristic darkness that the critics love, and they both star the ultimate Noir Hero: Humphrey Bogart.

The Maltese Falcon, directed by John Huston in 1941, is what many consider to be the first true Noir. Although certain aspects are rooted in Citizen Kane (released the same year), the Classical form of this genre/period emerged with this detective story based on Dashiell Hammett's novel. In short, this tale of mystery follows detective Sam Spade through the case that killed his partner. Humphrey Bogart plays the character of Spade to perfection, creating what is to become the template for all Noir heroes to come. Mary Astor plays Brigid O'Shaughnessy, a deceptively complex woman caught in the throes of passion and greed. Peter Lorre and Sidney Greenstreet fill out a superb supporting cast, each creating characters that transcend this film into future generations (Jabba the hut and Greedo respectively in Star Wars). The climax, where Spade must choose between duty and emotion, is a landmark in that what is expected from normal Hollywood fare has no business in Noir.

The Big Sleep, directed by Howard Hawks in 1946 and regarded by many as one of the most confusing films of all time, is a foray into the Los Angeles underworld. Humphrey Bogart fills out Raymond Chandler's Phillip Marlowe to perfection: hard-nosed, cynical and wary, yet always ready for the quick flop. The Big Sleep leads the audience down a convoluted passageway, dimly lit and very dangerous, with only Marlowe as a guide. Lauren Bacall makes herself known as Marlowe's match, meeting his Stone face with a burning fire thinly veiled in ice. The two are truly amazing on the screen together, spitting lines that are too good for real life.

Both films share themes of corruption and isolation, set in a world devoid of total purity or goodness and filled with characters destined to be alone. The Big Sleep is a bit lighter in the sense that Bogart and Bacall end up together in the end (unlike Ms. O'Shaughnessy's sudden departure in The Maltese Falcon), but even then all is not well. We are not rewarded with a couple kissing in the last reel and we see no sunshine pour through the windows to brighten our day. Yes they are together (wonderfully foreshadowed by the two cigarettes in the ashtray during the beginning credits (has there ever been a more perfect representation of Noir characters than a burning cigarette in an ashtray?)) but he's caused a man's death and they're both covering for her sister's crime of murder. These are clearly flawed characters, Frank Capra beware.

In The Maltese Falcon, the prized statuette turns out to be nothing more than a lead fake. Could we expect anything more? Chances are, Kasper Gutman will never find the real Falcon and Brigid O'Shaughnessy will never see Sam Spade again. All that the film has worked to make the audience care about is thrown away in the last ten minutes. All we are left with is "the stuff dreams are made of" and a detective saving face. Spade's final act, turning Ms. O'Shaughnessy over to the police, is perhaps the clearest example of the Noir hero's drive. He clearly has ethics, but they follow his own code rather than that of the law. Marlowe chooses a similar path, withholding information about Carmen Sternwood for the sake of Vivian, supporting such a notion of self-ethics wholeheartedly.

Perhaps one of the most notable scenes in either film is the Horse Racing conversation between Lauren Bacall and Humphrey Bogart. This shockingly shallow analogy made many an audience member gasp in disbelief upon first viewing, marking this as one of Film's raciest moments for many years (this scene was shot after principal photography had wrapped since word came back to Hawks that more Bogart/Bacall screen time was desperately wanted). The "subtle" masking of the obvious underlying sexuality in this scene is what drives many Noir stories. Thanks in part to the production code, which strictly prohibited anything having to do with anything; the screenwriters forced themselves to think of interesting metaphors and substitutions in place of the content they could not bring to the screen. For instance, although The Big Sleep as a novel involving prostitution, pornography, and heavy drug use as key aspects of plot. Hollywood couldn't discuss such subjects with the general public on an explicit level. So, a team of screenwriters (which included acclaimed novelist William Faulkner) developed an intricate mask to hide all questionable subject matter. The result: an exponential increase in complexity. Side effect: leagues of witty dialogue, clever allusions, and tongue-in-cheek humor. This racy conversation makes up a large part of Noir style. Where would the Hero be without his quick lines and double entendres? Certainly not in the idolized status that Bogart is today.

Undoubtedly, another major aspect of Noir is the Femme Fatale: The black widow. While the female leads in these two films are not quite as baaaaad as other Noir women tend to be, two out of the three are murderers. The only relatively innocent one, Bacall, who's resume only boasts blackmail, gambling, and a bad temper, certainly makes up for her lack of criminal behavior with serious attitude. It is downright fun watching the hard-boiled Marlowe go up against Vivian Rutledge. They command each other's attention, and demand each other's baiting. We are indeed a far cry from the female leads of Chaplin pictures or Lillian Gish.

These two films not only conform to typical Noir characteristics in a thematic or motif way but in technical aspects as well. Abundant use of odd camera angles, low-key lighting, deep focus, and claustrophobic framing permeate each film equally. Taking Root in the German Expressionism, the lighting is both an aspect of mise-en-scene and a character unto itself. In many ways, the lighting tells the story just as well as the narrative. Both films feature exquisite lighting, yielding well-defined shadows (recall the floor of the Spade & Archer offices in the first scene of The Maltese Falcon), and beautiful contrasting images (several shots of smoke from Bogart's cigarette in both films really stand out). While not always as naturalistic as comedies or westerns, this dark and moody lighting technique is a key Noir characteristic and used brilliantly in both films.

Positioning of the camera and framing of each scene is also very deliberate. Notice how often we see Sam Spade's back, usually in the center of the screen. We are truly living through this character, seeing what he sees (and little more). As Spade finds his partner dead at the bottom of a cliff, a wonderful low-angle shot displays Bogart's face as he immediately starts his mind at work, but we also see people in the second story of the building behind him, watching the show. This deep focus is evident throughout most of both pictures, many times revealing something new to the repeat viewer. This attention to detail on a shot-by-shot basis, obviously showcased with Citizen Kane, also plays a major role in Noir, since the director uses this subconsciously perceived technique to foreshadow, give background on a character, or give character to a dark world unfamiliar to some.

Perhaps the most important or significant aspect of these two films in the context of Film Noir style and form is the Hero: Humphrey Bogart. His performance in these two roles locked his position as Classical Noir Hero for generations to come. Rigid posture, stone cold face, tight lips, either a smart remark or witty come-back always ready on his tongue, nice suit, nicer hat, and enough nerve to stare down a fish all radiate with his presence. He's not the most handsome of men, but in this world beauty represents the beast. No matter how much pressure is riding on his shoulders, there's no sweat on his brow or waver in his voice. Women want him and men want to be him. He oozes style and character.

This pinnacle of virility stands for everything Heroic in a Film Noir. He's not perfect, having his fair share of vices, but he has underlying morals and ultimately good intentions. Sure he may take a C-note here and there, but if it comes down to it, he's not down with the wrong bet. He is the ultimate detective: courageous, smart, savvy, quick on his feet, and obsessed with his job. This obsession gets in the way however, relegating him to a life of solitude. His preoccupation with "the case" concerns him more than emotions of love. This is illustrated in a scene from The Big Sleep where he is driving Vivian Rutledge home. He stops to talk to her about what she knows and they end up in a kiss. Although he clearly has feelings for her, he continues with his questioning, forcing restraint upon him until the job is done. This would be the time where James Bond would forget work for an hour and have another cigarette, but Phillip Marlowe cannot afford such distractions. However, according to the bookstore scene, such distractions are another matter completely when the job involves waiting. This drive is too strong for love the majority of the time, perhaps causing some loneliness in him as well. It is not until the very end of the film, when the heavies have either been killed or arrested, when he addresses Vivian in terms of love. Of course, we will never see emotions of love or loneliness, as it is kept behind the stalwart mask of his face.

While many of the male leads in Noir tend to be somewhat slow, Spade/Marlowe defy this phenomenon by eluding the Femme Fatale, matching wits and just playing dumb. He knows your hand, and he immediately has a plan. After all, he is more than the male lead; he is a Hero.

Is the Hero what makes these films stand out as top forms of the genre? Undoubtedly Bogart does play a role, but he is merely a piece of a much larger puzzle. Surely a character such as Phillip Marlowe would not be nearly as well orchestrated in a movie less stylish than The Big Sleep and the magic of the Maltese Falcon wouldn't hold the same mysticism had it been the Brazilian Coconut instead. As always, it takes a team of good artists to make a good film. In truth, the magic of these two films lies not with how the characters fit the stereotypes, but how they diverge from them. They're close enough to fit the role, but different enough to stand out. That can be said on a broader scale for other aspects of these films as well. In many ways they fit the classical Noir mold very well, but again they differ somewhat, calling attention to not only what's different, but also to what's the same. By not framing the narrative in a flashback or narration, there is no feeling of fatalism or predestination. The Hero is smarter than average, and the Femmes are a bit less Fatale than Bette Davis or Barbara Stanwyck, but the plots in which they're involved balance their roles out.

Each film does an excellent job of encapsulating all the major themes of alienation, loneliness, and hopelessness within riveting tales of murder and intrigue. Set in a rogue town filled with rogue people, who can we trust in such a Dark City late at night? We need a man who is not afraid or ignorant, a man neither tarnished nor polished. We need a man who is a Hero, A man who is everything.


back.