One of the dangers of being confined to the house after bunion surgery is that Mike gets to go shopping by himself. A recent trip to Sam's Club for milk, eggs, and bread resulted in a 2-disc special edition of "The Maltese Falcon," which includes the 1931 and 1941 movies by that title and the 1936 version, "Satan Met a Lady." Or should I say, one of the benefits?
We're watching them in chronological order, so first a review of the 1931 film, with Bebe Daniels as Ruth Wonderly, Ricardo Cortez as Sam Spade, and Una Merkle as Effie. The title was changed to "Dangerous Female" when it was sold to t.v. in the 1950s, so it's no wonder that most of us were not aware of this version.
My first reaction was that the film was woefully miscast. Bebe Daniels, while quite the looker, did not have the depth to play an international woman of mystery. Her character is only ever called Ruth Wonderly, which is emblematic of the simplification of the role. This is particularly notable when Spade mocks her for having a "throb in your voice," which could not be further from the truth.
Ricardo Cortez also lacked the necessary depth and complexity. He played Spade as a slick ladies' man, not to say gigolo. His smile was too broad, his deliver too light, his reactions too studied. Of course, he was cast for the role because the film makers were trying to produce a sophisticated, romantic film, not a gritty, hardboiled detective story. Spade's office bright, clean, and well-appointed; his apartment is large and opulently-furnished. Una Merkle was a bright spot as Sam's Girl Friday, with too much good sense to become involved with him romantically. Dudley Digges' Caspar Gutman is more a small-town crime boss than a dreaded power-behind-the-scenes; Dwight Frye looks the part of Wilmer and does a credible job with what little he's given to do; Otto Matieson was surprisingly good as Joel Cairo; he is precise rather than prissy. Probably because of the focus on Sam's exploits, the homosexual undercurrents among those three are considerably toned down, although they are still present.
The script eliminates most of what would later become iconic lines, in favor of focusing on Spade as a womanizer. When we are first introduced to Spade, it is as one half of a silhouette seen through his outer office door, of a man and woman kissing. The door opens, and the camera focuses on the woman's legs, as she adjusts her silk stockings (the ones with a seam up the back). Archer returns from a business trip, he is in time to catch his wife and Spade in an intimate conversation on the phone. In this pre-code film, very little is left to the imagination, unlike the later versions, which had to make due with insinuation and suggestion. When Spade offers to sleep on the couch and give his bed to Miss Wonderly, she replies, "I wouldn't want to put you out," and in the next scene, is coming out of his bedroom in a negligee and kimono. Iva Archer arrives not long after, forces her way into the room, sees Miss Wonderly, and demands to know, "Who is that woman in my kimona?" Next morning, we see Miss Wonderly sleeping in Sam's bed, and a very distinct impression on the pillow next to her; later, she is taking a bath and talking to Sam through the door. Later, he strip searches her in his kitchen, when the $1000 bill goes missing. He orders her to remove her clothes, and we see her throw her gloves and coat at him. Later, we see her listening at the kitchen door, bare-shouldered, her clothes clutched to her chest.
As with "Baby Face," an awkward ending is tacked on to please the censors. First, Spade presents a witness to Wonderly's killing of Archer, a Chinese man with whom he had spoken in Chinese when he went to view the scene of the crime, so that there is no doubt about her guilt. Of course, this means that he knew that she was the murderer all along, which begs the question of why he became romantically involved with her. Then, he Spade visits her in prison, to tell her that he's joined the D.A.'s office. She mocks him and sends him on his way, then looks after him with tears in her eyes. He tells the Matron to treat her well and give her anything she wants, and to send the bill to the D.A.'s office where, he laughingly says, "I'll OK it!" I'm still trying to work that one out; the best I can do is that it is an attempt to provide a happy ending and to possibly justify his relationship with her as being based on love, but they do it at the cost of corruption in the D.A.'s office. Strange.
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