"You're good. You're very good. . .

. . .It's chiefly in your eyes, I think, and that throb you get into your voice when you say things like, 'Be generous, Mr. Spade." -Sam Spade to Bridget O'Shaughnessy in "The Maltese Falcon"

I have a replica of the Maltese Falcon on the shelf in my library. The sales patter that went with it when I bought it proclaimed that it was made by the prop man who worked on the Humphrey Bogart film of the same name and he used the same mold that made the original. Having seen the original and paused the video a few times for an even better comparison, it seems that its exalted provenance was a crock. It's not as detailed as the original and there are a few other discrepancies. Ah, well. What harm. The "original" dingus was a bit of a crock itself; "the stuff of dreams", in fact.

This article in this morning's paper reminds us that this month marks the 75th anniversary of the publication of Dashiell Hammett's "The Maltese Falcon, the novel upon which the classic movie was based. Now the movie is, indeed, a classic. And the article cited isn't bad either.

But as much as I loved the film, the adulation of Dashiell Hammett and his book is hard to take. Hammett's "The Continental Op" and "The Thin Man" are both on my shelves and I have never been able to force myself to finish either. The writing is spare, dry, and tedious. The characterization is nonexistent. The only character traits present seem to be deviousness and greed. One is continually flipping back pages in order to figure out who's who. A mystery novel is not supposed to be a chore. Graham Greene called his "entertainments". And so his were. Not so Hammett's.

Perhaps "The Maltese Falcon" is better. It should be as the movie based on it is a treat. It's interesting to learn that the film was actually a remake; "The Maltese Falcon" had been made twice before. One version, seldom related to TMF, is Satan Met A Lady. This was a Bette Davis vehicle, alas not one of her best. This one entitled "Dangerous Female" seems to be several notches above the Bette Davis version. The review is intriguing enough to put "Dangerous Female" on my list to search for at Blockbuster.

And there's even a sequel, albeit everyone seems to hate it.

(Be all that as it may, however good the Hammett films are, if you want to read a hard-boiled 'tec, Raymond Chandler is your only man.)