Batten Down the Hatches By Christina Harlin, your Fearless Young Orphan

Key Largo (1948)

Directed by John Huston

That Key Largo is a classic film isn’t in dispute; give it a little time to get cooking and John Huston will take you straight through a hurricane himself. My bone to pick is whether it’s film noir or not. I understand that if you say the names Humphrey Bogart, Lauren Bacall and Edward G. Robinson, and then name John Huston as the director, the first thing you’re going to think is, “Er, duh, film noir,” except that I watched this stormy stage play last week for the first time in decades and I gotta tell you, I’m not certain how it’s going to play out in the Noir Scoire. For all that it would seem to fit the bill, I question whether the movie is really just a character- driven drama wearing a film-noir hoodie. Down in the Florida Keys, wandering (i.e., practically homeless) former army commander Frank McCloud (Bogart) stops to visit the Nora Temple (Bacall), the widow of one of his best army pals during the war. Nora lives with her father-in- law, James Temple who we’ll recognize easily as Lionel Barrymore, that mean old Mr. Potter from It’s a Wonderful Life. They run a small hotel on the beach. But when Frank enters the place, he is informed a few sweaty, shifty-looking guys hanging around the lobby that the hotel is “closed for the summer” and that Frank should move along. Frank doesn’t leave, and when the Temples realize he’s there, they’re thrilled to see him. Mr. Temple still mourns the son he lost and is eager to hear stories about his boy’s last days. Nora too mourns her lost husband but we can see that she’s mighty glad to have Frank around; watch how she smiles appreciatively at the way he handles a boat, ahem. They welcome Frank to stay on with them for as long as he likes. Frank, who has been rather lost and unfocused after returning from the horrors of war, agrees tentatively to stay on. Except there are these other people at the hotel. We come to find out definitively that they’re “up to no good,” as soon as we learn that Edward G. Robinson is in charge of the bunch. He is Johnny Rocco, a gangster who got rich and infamous during prohibition, who was deported but is now trying to slip back into the country. He has taken over the Temple hotel for the week so that he and his gang will have a safe place to hide out while they wait for their contacts to arrive. In their company is former lounge singer Gaye Dawn (Claire Trevor), an alcoholic who burned through her life fast; she was brought along to be a plaything for Rocco and he plays with her the way a cat plays with a mouse. Quickly matters become dangerous. The law has come snooping around – funny thing, as they’re not even looking for Rocco, but for two Native Americans who have escaped from a 30-day jail sentence. (There is a considerable subplot involving the local native population, and we’ll have to steer away from this lest we get bogged down in a discussion of the film’s casual racism. Yes, it is plenty awkward, especially since the natives speak like this: “We do what Mr. Temple say. Him good friend to Indians.” So be aware that this is an unsightly blemish on the movie that we have to acknowledge – is it helpful to say that things could have been much worse?) Anyway, having reacted violently to the presence of law enforcement, Rocco and his gang have given up their secret and now must establish themselves as the “guys in charge”. They hold Frank, Nora, and elderly Mr. Temple at gunpoint, promising that this business will be over soon and they can all go their separate ways. Unfortunately a hurricane is heading right for the keys, which means that the lot of them will be locked down overnight together in a dangerous storm, with tensions running higher by the minute. Here’s a shocker: Bogie and Bacall might be one of the silver screen’s most famous duos for their undeniable chemistry, but in this movie they are kept cleanly apart from each other (more on this later) and the whole show is stolen away by Edward G. Robinson and Claire Trevor, who apparently forgot that they weren’t getting top billing and made the movie all about themselves anyway. Let’s see how it all rolls out in the Noir Scoire. Our anti-hero? Frank McCloud is no anti-hero, but an All-American war hero who is suffering PTSD and would appreciate a little peace and quiet. The entire story arc of Frank McCloud is Rocco and Gaye, who almost manage to whether he still has any stand-up-and- steal the show from Bogie and Bacall. fight in him after his horrific experiences, and I’m not comfortable with calling PTSD a character flaw. The people in the movie do that quite enough, including Nora Temple, who had one point all but accuses Frank of being a cowardly cad because he wouldn’t take a stupid dare that would have gotten him killed anyway. Interesting thing about Frank: he doesn’t really give a damn about Rocco’s crimes, whether Rocco is in this country or that, whether he’s running booze or guns or what. It isn’t until Rocco starts verbally abusing poor Gaye Dawn that Frank gets good and angry and frankly rebellious (no, it is not when Rocco sexually assaults Nora, and isn’t that a telling bit of information?). Frank McCloud is apparently a man who can’t stand to see anybody being picked on. As for an anti-hero score, he’s going to get an 8/10. As played by: Humphrey Bogart. How this rather homely, rather short, rather scrawny man manages to be one of the most magnetic film stars I’ve ever seen is a mystery, but I don’t care if it’s ever solved. 10/10 The femme fatale is not Nora Temple. Nora’s a nice woman who is grieving for her dead husband but who is also young enough to be interested in the new handsome commander who strolls through the door. When it looks like Frank might be more interested in preserving his own skin than taking mad risks, she goes rather cold on him. Her beauty is unmistakable; certainly Rocco doesn’t mistake it – he quickly targets her as a sexual conquest made all the more exciting because she clearly isn’t interested – but Nora herself is not a dangerous woman. Gaye Dawn fits the bill far more appropriately. This washed-up, alcoholic, ex-showgirl (who still looks terrific, though people keep saying she’s really gone downhill???) has spent her best years loving Rocco and not being loved back. She senses that this ordeal will be her last chance to secure him as her man, then almost as quickly senses that he no longer wants her and, let’s be honest, a bottle of whiskey has become a lot more interesting to her than a man anyway. Rocco should have been a little more careful about how he treated Gaye Dawn, because that saying about “Hell hath no fury” doesn’t mention anything about how far downhill a girl has to be before she’s no longer a threat. 2 points for Nora and 5 for Gaye gives us 7/10.

“Aw Frank, I’m sure you had a good reason to act cowardly and weak.” As played by: Lauren Bacall, who is luminous but unusually stiff in the movie. I understand she’s supposed to be scared. When you put her in Bogart’s personal space, she always loosens up and looks pliable, but the pair of them are kept apart for a lot of the film, awkwardly backed into chairs at gunpoint. Even when she gets scared and mad enough to attack Rocco, she does so almost mechanically. Claire Trevor gives an over-the-top performance as Gaye Dawn. She won an Oscar for it, actually. I found her loud and hindered by the stilted, stagey dialog, but she has a few real heart-rending moments we must give her credit for. Between the pair of them: 6/10. The villain: Rocco. He’s a mean, selfish, violent, greedy sonofabitch who can act like a spoiled child – a truly winning combination of hateful. He wants back into the USA so he can continue being a gangster because he sees most people as sheep who deserve whatever the shepherd hands them. He spends the movie bragging about his own power and authority until he has to face down a hurricane, which doesn’t seem to give a shit about his power and authority. 10/10 As played by: Edward G. Robinson, one of the few actors who could go head-to- head with Bogart and not get drowned by all Bogie’s cool. Robinson has no trouble playing Rocco as a nasty sleazebag. He has a couple scenes when he whispers things to Bacall, things that shock and horrify her, and I would dearly love to know a) what he was supposedly saying, and b) what the actor was actually saying. Do you think he might have been telling her a joke or something? 10/10 The Crime: Aside from pointing the finger at organized crime itself, Key Largo is specifically about a plot to sneak a deported criminal back into the USA, and three of our main characters spend most of the film as hostages. There is also the outright murder of a sheriff’s deputy and a couple highly questionable deaths of Native Americans. 9/10 The Location: Key Largo is based on a stage play and certainly feels like it, not just in the movement of characters and placement of scenes, but in the rather forced expository dialog, for example, or when a character is given his or her monologue moment. Occasionally director Huston takes us out of the hotel, and the climax is moved entirely onto the ocean as Frank McCloud takes care of business on a boat. We have a dichotomy here. As far as film noir goes, a sultry hotel in the Keys, a foggy ocean, and an unstoppable hurricane blasting through and howling at the shutters through the night create magnificent moodiness. The characters, particularly Edward G. Robinson, are terrified of the storm and the peak of its fury feels like the only time when they all forget that they’re reenacting a play, as if they’ve forgotten their lines and are just waiting to see whether they live or die. So I’m giving the location a 10/10. The mood: In giving our mood rating, we encounter problems. This is thanks once again to the fact that the movie still feels like dinner theater. The stiltedness of the script and blocking brought me out of the movie more than once. In addition to this, at several points the film transforms into rah-rah propaganda about the bravery of WWII soldiers, complete with patriotic music swelling in the background. I’m not saying it’s wrong, but I am saying it kicks the film-noir mood right out of matters. There is a fair amount of suspense in the story – generated by a hurricane. As for the plot, well, the suspense is there too, provided you can forget the fact there’s no way Humphrey Bogart, as the war hero, is going to come out of this mess on the dog’s end. 6/10. The sex factor: Now, kids, I don’t like saying this. But Bogie and Bacall just aren’t able to do for us here what they normally could. It is not their fault. In their moments alone or standing close (which seem to be, pardon the oxymoron, few, and far between, haha) you can feel their ordinary chemistry burbling. Altogether, however, this is not the story of a romance but of the prelude to a romance. If Frank is going to stay near Nora, yes, they will likely end up together. In this film’s time frame, however, they’ve only just met and they’re being held hostage in a hurricane. There’s simply not much time for canoodling. On the other hand, Bogie strikes up some surprising sparks with Gaye Dawn. You see, he is about the only person there who is nice to her, and Gaye recognizes quickly that he’s a prince under all that hangdog sadness. From the sleazy perspective of “sex”, or whatever it is that Rocco demands of his women, we’ve got him narrowing his focus onto Nora’s icy exterior, and that’s twisted and wrong, but a lot of fun to watch. 6/10. Overall Noir Scoire: 82%. That gives Key Largo a B- for its Film Noir membership, which is actually rather higher than I expected. I guess star power really does get the job done!