Five classic detective movies you can't miss
The hard-boiled detective, a lonely guy walking the tough streets of the city with nothing more than a hat, a coat, and a gun: His story has been a staple of literature and film ever since Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler created the prototypes in the '20s and '30s. The latest example, Jack Nicholson's Chinatown sequel, The Two Jakes, is a critical and commercial miss. So if you too feel the first Jake was enough, stay home and watch the form at its best in these detective movies.
The Maltese Falcon
(MGM/UA, 1941)
Though Dashiell Hammett's novel The Maltese Falcon had been filmed
twice before John Huston got to it (in 1931 and 1936), neither
version really caught the Hammett essence. But the 1941 Falcon is one
of the most accomplished screen adaptations of a literary work ever
made. Huston, in his debut as a writer-director, finds the perfect
visual equivalent for Hammett's tangy prose in almost every frame.
And his cast couldn't be better, with Humphrey Bogart the embodiment
of the cynical but honest detective hero Sam Spade. A+
Murder, My Sweet
(Fox Hills, 1944)
Farewell, My Lovely (Nelson, 1975)
Murder, My Sweet was the first significant screen adaptation of one of Raymond Chandler's Philip Marlowe novels and, though nobody realized it at the time, a
ground-breaking work. As Marlowe, Dick Powell shed his male ingenue
image and assumed a new identity as a Tough Guy in a Trench Coat. But
more important, Murder's doomy fatalism and highly stylized
look — quirky camera angles, exaggerated shadows — virtually defined the film noir genre. Though Murder has considerable virtues, Dick
Richards' Farewell, My Lovely (a remake using Chandler's original
title) is even better. Star Robert Mitchum, with his trademark
world-weariness, makes a perfect Marlowe, and his costar, green-eyed
Charlotte Rampling, is the ultimate Chandleresque femme fatale.
Richards has an impeccable touch with the period atmosphere, and he
doesn't have to pussyfoot around some of the sex- and-drugs story
elements that the '40s censors ouldn't handle. Both pictures: A-
The Big Sleep
(MGM/ UA, 1946)
Humphrey Bogart wasn't Chandler's ideal Philip Marlowe — the
author's choice was Cary Grant. But Bogart's portrayal of the
detective as wisecracking moralist now seems to be what makes The Big Sleep the best of the eight Philip Marlowe pictures made to date. Of
course, the plot is so confusing that nobody — not director Howard
Hawks, coscreenwriters Leigh Brackett, Jules Furthman, and William
Faulkner, or even Chandler himself — has ever been able to make
complete sense of it. But thanks to a superb ensemble (including
Lauren Bacall and cowboy actor Bob Steele as a murderous thug), a
poisonous Los Angeles atmosphere you can cut with a knife, and
typically high-powered direction by Hawks, the whole thing is so
engrossing you're not likely to notice. Coolest scene: Bogey and
bookstore clerk Dorothy Malone trading double entendres over a bottle
of bourbon. A
Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid
(MCA/Universal, 1982)
The detective spoof to end all detective spoofs. Steve Martin, as
L.A. gumshoe Rigby Reardon, gets involved with one of the most
confusing cases in screen history — not to mention a who's who of '40s
stars (Bogart, James Cagney, Ingrid Bergman, Charles Laughton)
wandering in from their old movies through the miracle of
sophisticated film editing. Dead Men, like Woody Allen's Zelig, is essentially a stunt, but it's a terrific stunt. The vintage footage
is seamlessly integrated into the action, and the end result is both
very funny and very true to the conventions of the detective movie.
Great detail: Miklos Rozsa's film noir score. Great running gag:
Rachel Ward sucking bullets out of Martin's gunshot wounds. A-
