The Maltese Falcon is an Iconic Film Noir That Never Gets Old

by

Though some film experts point to the lesser-known movie Stranger on the Third Floor as the very first film noir, most viewers and critics agree that The Maltese Falcon is where the genre really began. Roger Ebert famously gave The Maltese Falcon a perfect score, explaining it was more than just a fantastic mystery—it marked a turning point for Hollywood filmmaking.

He wasn’t just talking about the characters themselves, but a broader shift in storytelling. Before, American heroes were typically good people, stories were brightly lit, and everything usually ended well. Afterwards, things changed – heroes became more flawed, stories grew darker and more complex, and the hopeful ideals once celebrated felt heavy and disappointing.

The Maltese Falcon That Built Film Noir’s Blueprint

The Maltese Falcon had all the elements of a great film: strong actors and acting, innovative camera techniques for its time, and a director with a distinct style. The story unfolds in San Francisco, but it’s a far cry from the postcard-perfect city often depicted. Instead, it’s a gritty world of small offices and bleak backstreets.

Bebe Daniels plays Ruth Wonderly, who rushes into the detective agency of Spade and Archer with a frantic tale of her missing sister and a threatening man named Thursby. Sam Spade quickly realizes she isn’t telling the truth, but he accepts her payment anyway.

Okay, so this one bad choice I make in the movie? It totally spirals out of control. My partner ends up dead, the cops are all over me, and suddenly I’ve got a string of seriously weird criminals showing up, all wanting this little black bird statue. Honestly, looking back, it was a huge gamble for a first-time director to even try something this ambitious.

John Huston, frustrated with how his screenplays were being altered, decided to direct this film himself. He adapted Dashiell Hammett’s 1930 novel, having his secretary turn it into a script while keeping the original dialogue almost exactly as it was. This helped maintain the novel’s detached and factual style of storytelling.

Film noir really starts to come together here: characters are complex, often untrustworthy, and their reasons for acting are always unclear. This creates a cool, distant mood that feels exciting because the audience is kept guessing about who’s trying to deceive whom. Huston didn’t simply tell the story; he brought it to life with a level of detail that was unusual for that era.

Classic films like Chinatown, Blood Simple, Miller’s Crossing, Brick, and even Pulp Fiction all owe a debt to The Maltese Falcon, which truly defines the film noir genre. You can even see its influence in the work of director Christopher Nolan, particularly in The Dark Knight Trilogy, with its use of shadowy imagery and gritty city settings.

Sam Spade Changed What a Hero Could Be in The Maltese Falcon

Before The Maltese Falcon, Humphrey Bogart typically played supporting roles as gangsters who often met their end in the third act of a film. This movie didn’t just launch him to stardom—it completely changed how audiences viewed leading men in American cinema.

Sam Spade is a deeply flawed character. He’s having an affair with his business partner’s wife, Iva, despite not being particularly fond of her. When his partner, Miles Archer, is murdered, Spade’s first reaction isn’t grief, but irritation – he’s more concerned about how the death will affect his business and whether he’ll be suspected of the crime. This makes him a classic, imperfect hero of the noir genre.

I’ve always found Sam Spade fascinating because he doesn’t really operate on morals, but on a personal code. There’s a scene where he explains to Brigid why he has to hand her over, and it’s so telling. He says, “When a man’s partner is killed, he’s supposed to do something about it,” and it doesn’t matter how he felt about the guy. It’s not about caring for Miles, it’s about professional pride – letting someone get away with killing your partner is just ‘bad business’ in his world. It’s a really cold, practical way of looking at things, and completely devoid of sentimentality.

The film’s romance is strikingly different because it’s based entirely on what each person can get out of the relationship. From the start, Spade sees Brigid as a case, not a love interest. He immediately calls her out on her attempts to appear innocent, even while flirting, and praises her skill at deception because he’s equally capable of lying. This dynamic—a connection built on mutual manipulation—can be seen in characters like Walter White. Spade is a groundbreaking hero because he does the right thing, but not out of altruism – his motives are entirely self-serving.

The Maltese Falcon Somehow Gets Better With Age

Even after eighty years, The Maltese Falcon doesn’t feel dated. In fact, it was remarkably modern for its time—the 1940s—and still feels fresh today. It’s truly a film unlike any other, largely thanks to director John Huston’s strong visual style.

Working with cinematographer Arthur Edeson, he began constructing film sets with full ceilings. This meant lights had to come from realistic sources like lamps and windows, which created dramatic shadows. This technique also required keeping the camera low to the ground – a style now commonly called a low-key shot.

You know, one of the things that really gets me about this movie is this incredible seven-minute scene. The camera just follows Greenstreet and Bogart, moving with them through all these rooms and hallways, and it’s all one continuous shot! It’s so intense – you feel completely stuck with them, right in the middle of their scheme. Honestly, that choice to focus on long takes and really let the actors play off each other, instead of relying on quick cuts and flashy action, is why the movie still feels so fresh and gripping today. It hasn’t dated at all.

Then there’s the Falcon, a symbol Hitchcock made famous but this film truly mastered. It’s a fake, essentially worthless object, yet people will kill and cheat for it. What’s remarkable about the story is that the Falcon itself is meaningless. The revelation that it’s just an empty prop shifts the film from a simple mystery into a dark and cynical commentary on life.

The movie ends with a now-iconic line, spontaneously delivered by Bogart. When a police officer asks about the large statue, Spade famously responds, “The stuff that dreams are made of.” Though it’s a quote from Shakespeare, Bogart’s rough voice transformed it into something almost like a dark pronouncement, solidifying The Maltese Falcon‘s place as the ultimate film noir.

5 Questions
Test Your Noir Instincts: The Maltese Falcon Edition
Your Top Score
—
Attempts
—
0
0
Report Error

Found an error? Send it so it can be corrected.

Read More

2026-02-05 07:39