TSPDT placing: #319
Directed by: Howard Hawks
Written by: Ernest Hemingway (novel), Jules Furthman, William Faulkner (screenplay), Cleve F. Adams (uncredited) , Whitman Chambers (uncredited)
Starring: Humphrey Bogart, Walter Brennan, Lauren Bacall, Dolores Moran, Hoagy Carmichael, Sheldon Leonard, Walter Szurovy, Marcel Dalio, Walter Sande
If Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall occupy the same screen, you can safely expect fireworks. My first Bogart-Bacall collaboration was John Huston's Key Largo (1948), a solid thriller with a brilliant performance from Edward G. Robinson. However, the chemistry between Bogart and Bacall was surprisingly lacking, and, at the time, I wondered why there was such a fascination for the couple. Recent viewings of Howard Hawks' The Big Sleep (1946) and To Have and Have Not (1944) have completely swayed my opinion, and I am now in no doubt of the pair's potency: the sexual chemistry positively sizzles while they're both onscreen! This particular film was Bacall's debut performance, the picture that introduced both audiences and Bogart {he would marry her the following year} to one of cinema's most iconic beauties, fondly remembered for her erotically husky voice. To Have and Have Not is an interesting mixture of war-time adventure and hard-boiled film-noir, set on the island of Martinique under the Vichy regime, and Bogart's Harry "Steve" Morgan is forced to navigate swathes of low-lifes and immoral authority figures.
Howard Hawks, perhaps Hollywood's most versatile master director, was a considerable fan of author Ernest Hemingway, but didn't think all too highly of his 1937 effort, "To Have and Have Not." Taking it upon himself to improve the story, Hawks set his writers upon Hemingway's "bunch of junk," and created what is considered by some to be one of his best films. With its abundance of pistol-clad gangsters and Bogart's legendary noble tough-guy, comparisons with other pulp film-noirs {such as The Maltese Falcon (1941) and Hawks' own The Big Sleep} are perfectly justified, as are the noticeable parallels with Michael Curtiz's Casablanca (1942), with its intriguing war-time tale of romance and loyalty, in addition to a suitably ambiguous ending that emphasises the sheer uncertainty of warfare. A hilarious Walter Brennan provides the comedic relief as Eddie, a well-meaning but hopelessly addicted alcoholic who likes to ask people such inane queries as "was you ever bit by a dead bee?" Marcel Dalio, in a role that would ideally have suited Peter Lorre, is also good as Frenchy, the sincere owner of the local hotel with sympathies for the French Resistance.
What ultimately separates a good film like To Have and Have Not from a masterpiece like, say, Casablanca, is the depth of the characters. By the end of the latter film, we feel as though we've known Rick (Bogart) and Ilsa (Ingrid Bergman) for their entire lives, and we feel pain for their romantic sorrows. Howard Hawks has always been more concerned with witty dialogue than character development, and, though there's no doubting the sheer entertainment of his pictures, they are rarely able to strike a chord close to the heart. Most of this film's characters are little more than two-dimensional caricatures, and the camera, in order to avoid distracting from the excellence of the screenplay, does little of any interest. To Have and Have Not is certainly a solid film, but it's not exactly "exciting" film-making, with the exception, of course, of the coupling of Bogart and Bacall, which was a stroke of genius on Hawks' part. Also notable is the musical soundtrack, with Hoagy Carmichael appearing as a hotel piano player to perform “Hong Kong Blues,” and Bacall singing “How Little We Know.”
7/10
2) Arsenic and Old Lace (Frank Capra)
3) Gaslight (George Cukor)
4) Lifeboat (Alfred Hitchcock)
5) To Have and Have Not (Howard Hawks)
Humphrey Bogart is, of course, the definitive version of the film-noir hero, exhibiting handsomeness, toughness and always remaining in full control of the situation. Though his character is basically the same as his Sam Spade from The Maltese Falcon (1941), this was the only occasion on which Bogart portrayed Chandler's popular character Philip Marlowe {who, notably, has also been played by Dick Powell and Robert Mitchum}. Though Marlowe is allowed to entertain a variety of seductive women, via some surprisingly-scandalous double entendre dialogue, it is with future-wife Lauren Bacall that the chemistry really sizzles {the couple would be married by the time of the film's release, and would co-star in numerous subsequent pictures}. Considering I had been rather disappointed with the pair's chemistry in Key Largo (1948), it was a real pleasure to witness the sparks really flying this time, most memorably in a sexually-suggestive horse-racing dialogue sequence, which was re-shot later to capitalise on the pair's popularity following
The Big Sleep is one of the most rawly-entertaining hard-boiled detective thrillers I've seen, an indecipherable jumble of murders and low-lifes that both acknowledges its incomprehensibility and accepts it {indeed, the characters each seem as baffled as we are}. Various important characters never appear on screen, while others turn up already dead, and more still only survive long enough to divulge a vital clue. Considering the dominance of the Productive/Hays Code during the 1940s, it's surprising that much of the content of the film was allowed to remain intact. Aside from the sexual innuendo, the plot also contains veiled references to pornography, drug use and homosexuality. Perhaps the film's ultra-complicated plot also served as the picture's saving grace, with censors apparently too bewildered with the mystery to notice what was actually being implied by Bogart and his various female companions. However, the one most important question has yet to be asked: where on Earth did Howard Hawks manage to find so many good-lookin' dames?!