the big sleep

Humphrey Bogart is one of the ugliest leading men in cinema history. In some alternate universe he probably rose no higher than playing Thug #2...with Charles Bronsan lurking in the background as Thug #3. But what his face lacks in typical matinee idol symmetry, his screen presence compensates for with a vengeance. And there are no finer examples of Bogey's enduring appeal than The Big Sleep (1946) and Key Largo (1948), both featuring memorable roles for his most famous co-star, Lauren Bacall.

In the case of The Big Sleep, adapted from Raymond Chandler's pulp novel, there was considerable effort put forward to ensure that the Bogart-Bacall chemistry was recaptured on screen. The film's release was delayed for reshoots that beefed up Bacall's role and put her on more even footing with her leading man. Both the theatrical version and the pre-release cut are presented on Warner Archive's new blu-ray (although the pre-release cut is only standard def).

With a notoriously convoluted screenplay, director Howard Hawks makes the "whodunit" aspect of his film almost irrelevant. The fun comes in watching Bogart, as private detective Phillip Marlow, match wits with a colorful line-up of suspects who seem to corner him in one "no-win" situation after another. Hired to solve a touchy family situation involving a millionaire, his two spoiled daughters and a mysterious blackmail note, Marlowe finds his biggest challenge is the eldest daughter herself, Vivian (Bacall), who muddies the investigation at every turn.

Warner Brothers was keen to repeat the duo's success from To Have and Have Not, so Hawks was brought in to reshoot several scenes that played up Bacall's ability to match Bogart's tough guy persona. The plan worked and the dialogue, co-written by Leigh Brackett and the William Faulkner, bounces between characters like a game of hot potato. Bogart himself shows a surprisingly light touch, making Marlowe a sarcastic shamus with a heart of gold and a mind like a steel trap. Even his irresistibility to women, which could have aged as poorly as some of the sexist Bond adventures, seems somehow gentlemanly charming.

Key Largo casts Bogart as a post-WW2 drifter Frank McCloud who stops by to pay his respects to the family of a deceased solider under his command. But once he arrives at the Hotel Key Largo, he finds the widow (Bacall, again) and her father (Lionel Barrymore) and being held hostage by notorious gangster Johnny Rocco (Edward G. Robinson). And worse yet, an impending hurricane prevents the desperate situation from breaking up any time soon.

Director John Houston crafts a near perfect thriller, but most of the credit should go to Robinson. His diminutive, egotistical bad guy builds upon his famous gangster roles of the past, rather than cribbing from them. Bogey and Bacall take a backseat to his performance, which Houston enhances with some clever directorial flourishes (Rocco's speech while being shaved with a straight razor and his whispered vulgarities (?) in Bacall's ear are unforgettable bits of cinema history). And Claire Trevor took home a well-deserved Oscar for her role as Rocco's alcoholic ex-girlfriend. Key Largo plays with a stacked deck but never cheats the audience. It's simply a damn fine movie!

Released under the Warner Archive banner, but available on Amazon as well, both films are sold separately but fit together like a glove. The hi-def transfers are picture perfect, but extras are limited; Key Largo has none, while The Big Sleep comes with the aforementioned pre-release 1945 version and an informative breakdown of the new scenes - and the story behind them - from film preservationist Robert Gitt.