Humphrey Gets a New Face

Vincent Parry (Humphrey Bogart) has escaped from San Quentin; he tries to hitch a ride, but the driver, Baker (Clifton Young) realizes Vincent is an escapee. Vincent knocks him out and abandons the car down the road. He finds Irene Jansen (Lauren Bacall) painting in the countryside. She knows who he is and offers to help him. Against his better judgement, Vincent accepts her assistance. This week, we're looking at Dark Passage (1947).

While Lady in the Lake is credited as the first film to use the subjective camera technique, Dark Passage, released the same year, takes the idea and uses it to better effect.  Not all of the film is subjective, and the motivation for not showing our protagonist becomes apparent when Vincent is taken to a plastic surgeon. Even when Vincent still has his original face (seen in a newspaper article - the photo is of actor Frank Wilcox), the film uses shadows to hide his face.  That we do eventually get to see Humphrey Bogart in the latter part of the film is a benefit to the audience; the first view of his expressive eyes (when he is bandaged following the surgery) is something we've all been waiting for. Regardless, Jack Warner was not amused that for 40 minutes, his expensive star's face was nowhere to be seen (Eddie Muller intro and extro).

Bogart and Lauren Bacall had been married for less than two years (TCM article); this was their third (of four) screen pairings. Howard Hawks, who had discovered her and nurtured her for the beginning of her career, had become disinterested in her once she became involved with Mr. Bogart. He sold her contract to Warner Brothers and Ms. Bacall found herself asked to work in parts that she found inappropriate - for the first five years of that contract, she was in five films - three of them with her husband (Los Angeles Times obituary). She's wonderful in this film, taking on an almost impossible part and making it believable - the unlikely premise of her willingness to take in a convicted murderer becomes quite acceptable in her able hands. And her growing love for her charge is reflected in her every movement. Yet, she still maintains a strength and sensibility that makes Irene memorable.   

The actress who walks away with the film is Agnes Moorehead (Madge Rapf).  William Hare said that in the role "the traditional femme fatale role was turned on its head...she is overbearing, domineering, and thoroughly ruthless" (Pulp Fiction to Film Noir: The Great Depression and the Development of a Genre) . She inserts herself into everyone's lives - her former fiance, Bob (Bruce Bennett); Irene, and, it turns out, the late Mrs. Parry. We dislike her from the minute she appears in Irene's apartment, but we can't take our eyes off her. 

There are a remarkable number of excellent character actors in the film: Tom D'Andrea (Sam the Cabby), like Ms. Bacall, adds to our trust of Vincent in his willing acceptance of the escapee's innocence. Sam's open and friendly personality is believable because of Mr. D'Andrea's performance. Similarly, Houseley Stevenson (Dr. Walter Coley) brings just the slightest bit of menace to his role as the plastic surgeon who helps Vincent alter his appearance - will he disfigure him? Turn him in? His performance dances on the head of a pin.  Finally, there is Clifton Young, who, from first glance is horrifyingly creepy. Baker is a heel of the first water, and Mr. Young plays him that way. We know he is going to be a key factor in Vincent's life, and Mr. Young does not disappoint.

If there is a weak link in the film, it's Bruce Bennett as the man romantically pursing Irene. Mr. Bennett, as we've mentioned before, is not a favorite actor. He's dull and fades immediately into the background. The plus to having him in the film is that one can imagine Madge bossing him around.  What you can't believe is that he would have the gumption to break up with her, or that Irene would have even the slightest interest in him.

Based on a novel by David Goodis; later, Mr. Goodis, and his the estate sued United Artists for copyright infringement - stating that The Fugitive was based on Dark Passage (Mr. Goodis' estate won the suit, but the monetary amount was minimal).  Like the novel, the film was set in San Francisco, and some scenes were shot on location (AFI catalog); the city and its hills are very important to the story.

Some reviews were indifferent - Bosley Crowther's New York Times review liked the scenery better than the story. He did have high praise for Agnes Moorehead who "is also quite electric in a couple of scenes as a meddlesome shrew."  Variety's, review, on the other hand, was more complimentary, saying that the "dialog frequently crackles."

We very much enjoyed the film, and recommend it highly. Here's a trailer for a taste of what's to come:

Faye is in Danger

Ronnie Marsh (Zachary Scott) is a fast talking, fascinating man, who manages to convince Hilda Fenchurch (Faye Emerson) to rent him a room in the home she shares with her mother (Mary Servoss). Ronnie recently beat a hasty retreat from another town, where he was almost found with the dead body of Alice Turner. Ronnie rapidly decides that Hilda and her home offer a nice way for him to live comfortably, and he successfully woos her. But he changes his mind about his target when Hilda's younger sister Anne (Mona Freeman) returns home - Anne, you see has a substantial inheritance. Watch for the Danger Signal (1945)!
 
With Zachary Scott (who interestingly is not given top billing) in this film, you are in for a wild ride. He's perfect as an amoral seducer who is also probably a murderer. He has just the right amount of appeal that you understand why Hilda would fall for him, as well as the ability to make the audience cringe as you realize what an absolute heel he is.  Mr. Scott has an odd smile, and he has a way of turning it from endearing to menacing at the drop of a hat. The audience keeps watching because you're never sure what he will do next.

This film was released the same year as Mildred Pierce, in which Mr. Scott plays another remarkable scoundrel.  Though the characters have been compared to each other (Zachary Scott: Hollywood's Sophisticated Cad by Ronald L. Davis), these really are very different roles. You never fear Monty Beragon - he's lazy and, relatively speaking, harmless. Ronnie, on the other hand is a snake - he hypnotizes his victims, and then bites. 

Faye Emerson is equally appealing as Hilda. You have to like her if you are to appreciate the film - you need to worry about her, and wonder just what she is capable of doing to preserve her family. She's fascinated by Ronnie from their first meeting; her poise and obvious intelligence help to convince the audience of Ronnie's power over women. It's one thing when her mother and sister succumb to his charms. It's quite another when Hilda falls.

Ms. Emerson moved to California as a small child; in 1941, she landed a Warner Brother's contract after appearing in local stage productions.  She had small parts in a number of a movies, like Air Force (1943) and Destination Toyko (1943), but B movies - like Lady Gangster (1942) - were her forte. Her first marriage disintegrated primarily because of her career; in  1943, she met Elliot Roosevelt, the son of the President. They married during the filming of this movie (which was one of a number of delays caused by their relationship), but the marriage only lasted until 1950. During the marriage, she left her Warner Brothers' contract, planning to spend the time with her husband. When she decided to return to work, she went first to Broadway (appearing in The Play's the Thing (1948) - she would ultimately appear in 5 Broadway plays) and to television, where she hosted The Faye Emerson Show. She would later work with her third husband, Skitch Henderson and become a regular on game shows and talk shows (Women Pioneers in Television: Biographies of Fifteen Industry Leaders by Cary O'Dell). Ms. Emerson retired in 1963; she died in 1983 at the age of 65.

Ann Blyth was originally slated for the role of Anne, but a back injury caused her to drop out (AFI catalog). Mona Freedman does a good job in a thankless role; Anne makes a good contrast to Hilda - she's silly, feckless, and uncaring. It's hard to like or care about Anne - she has little regard for the rest of her family and seems to get pleasure out of hurting her sister. In contrast, Rosemary DeCamp is excellent and convincing as psychiatrist Dr. Jane Silla - the voice of reason and experience in the film. The character is a tip of the hat to the novel’s author, Phyllis Bottome, who was a student of psychologist Alfred Adler (Eddie Muller intro). Ms. DeCamp would later state this was her favorite film role (TCM article).

Dick (Richard) Erdman, who has a small amount of screen time as Anne's would-be love interest, Bunkie, died last year at the of 93, after a career in films and television that lasted from 1944 until 2017.  Bruce Bennett (Dr. Andrew Lang) is banal as Hilda's boss - a research physician working in botulism. Appearing opposite Zachary Scott again (he was Bert Pierce in Mildred Pierce), Mr. Bennett fades into the background - he's not really a dynamic personality, and placed in contrast to Mr. Scott, well, there simply is no comparison.

Thomas M. Pryor's (TMP) review in the New York Times was lukewarm, however, the film showed a profit at the box office.   There's only one problem - it's the ending, which takes a very bizarre turn that can make you feel a like you have a slight case of whiplash. Regardless, you will spend the film engaged with the characters and the story.  We'll leave you with the trailer:

Ida Sings

Petey Brown (Ida Lupino) is moderately successful as a torch singer in a New York club, but it is nearing Christmas and Petey misses her sisters and brother in California. She arrives on the West Coast to find her brother Joey (Warren Douglas) working for nightclub owner Nicky Toresca (Robert Alda); sister Sally Otis (Andrea King) dealing with her husband Roy’s (John Ridgely) post-war mental issues; and sister Virginia (Martha Vickers) avoiding the world. Petey decides she better stay to set things in order. Our film this week is The Man I Love (1947).

While there is nothing extraordinarily unique about the story, this is a fantastic film, with an exceptional cast. The focal point is the always stunning Ida Lupino as a determined and strong woman. Even when we think she is weakening, Petey bounces back and dominates every scene and the situation.  She is supportive of her sisters and brother, and glides in and out of their lives like the hero in a western - she stays while they need her, then rides off into the sunset! Ms. Lupino was not the first choice for Petey; Warner’s purchased it with Ann Sheridan in mind (AFI catalog). Peg LaCentra provided Ms. Lupino's singing voice in this film, though later (in Road House), she did her own singing (Ida Lupino, Director: Her Art and Resilience in Times of Transition by Therese Grisham and Julie Grossman).

Also providing a noteworthy performance is Robert Alda. A highly-regarded singer, Mr. Alda - the original Nathan Detroit on Broadway, (and the father of actor Alan Alda) - does not sing here. As Nicky Toresca, he is as far from the boy singer as you can get.  Nicky is sleazy - first he is on the prowl for Sally Otis, then Petey, and eventually Sally’s neighbor Gloria O'Connor (Dorothy Moran).  Mr. Alda bring a smoothness tinged with menace to Toresca.  It’s clear he is interested in Petey primarily because she is not interested in him, making the character all the more perverse. Like Ms. Lupino, Mr. Alda wasn’t even the first choice for the role - originally it was intended for Humphrey Bogart; later Jack Carson was scheduled to do it (Music in the Shadows: Noir Musical Films by Sheri Chinen Biesen). 

Bruce Bennett (San Thomas) spends much of his time in his films being a forlorn and moody victim (for example, his turn as Bert Pierce in Mildred Pierce), but it works in this film. San spends much of The Man I Love pining for his ex-wife; the audience gets to shake their respective heads at his denseness. Why on earth is he still mourning this feckless woman when he has the magnificent Ida waiting for him? However, faced with Petey's determination, the viewer is left with the feeling that San will be getting over his past in time. Dane Clark was also considered for the role; he surely would have brought an entirely different vibe to the character.

The film is blessed with an excellent supporting cast: Andrea King's almost matches Petey with her strength of character. Faced with a husband who has been hospitalized following his service in the Army, she is forced to work to support her young son, as well as deal with a husband whose illness causes him to expresses his hatred for her when she is able to visit. Dorothy Moran as the next-door neighbor with a husband, twin babies, and a penchant for the night life that husband Johnny (Don McGuire) can't afford, is convincing as a lady with more than housework on her mind. The few brief scenes in which Alan Hale appears are always a pleasure. As Riley, Toresca's good natured assistant, he brings a bit of comic relief to the proceeding. Both Craig Stevens (Johnson) and Florence Bates (Mrs. Thorpe) have minor parts - blink and you will miss them. Also worth noting are the beautiful gowns that were designed by Milo Anderson, one of which was so tight, Mr. Lupino had to be literally cut out of it (see below).

Ms. Lupino became ill during the filming, at one point fainting during a scene (partially caused by the tightness of her dress) - Mr. Alda caught her before she hit the ground. (Ida Lupino: A Biography by William Donati). As a result of her illness, the film ran 19 days overtime and $100,000 over budget (TCM article). It did earn a profit, however, and came in at number 71 on the year's list of top grossing movies (Ultimate Movie Rankings).

Based on the 1942 novel Night Shift by Maritta Wolff, Bosley Crowther's New York Times review of The Man I Love was not all that complementary, but it seemingly didn't hurt the movie.  Frequently cited as a film noir, Eddie Muller in a 2017 "Noir or Not" segment said it was not noir because "the protagonist (Petey) is not flawed". His book Dark City: The Lost World of Film Noir goes into detail on Ms. Lupino's career both inside and outside of noir. 

We'll leave you with a trailer and the suggestion you keep your eyes peeled for this one:

Paul Hears an Angel

Guffy McGovern (Paul Douglas) is the foul-mouthed, angry manager of the Pittsburgh Pirates. The team is in last place in the National League, and his players loathe him.  Sports writer Fred Bayles (Keenan Wynn) hates him - Guffy got him fired from his announcing job with the team - and Bayles is doing his best to return the favor. Then, one evening, Guffy hears a voice, which tells him that, if he can refrain from blaspheming, there will be Angels in the Outfield (1951) to help his team to a pennant.

When this film was suggested to the group, one of the members was reluctant to include it. She's not a baseball fan, and was sure the film would bore her. She later admitted that she enjoyed the film a lot. The beauty of this movie is that, if you are a baseball fan, the film resonates with the enjoyment of the game, and the passion of the fans. If you don't like baseball, it really doesn't matter. Guffy's journey is one that could be anyone - he's a man who has shifted his life into one of anger and misanthropy. The movie is about him searching for the joy that can be present in anyone's life. Baseball is just the jumping off place.

Paul Douglas is excellent as this very conflicted man. From his first appearance, his portrayal makes apparent that his conflicts are very deep. He dislikes everyone - no one on his team is exempt from his fury, not even players like Saul Hellman (Bruce Bennett) who used to be his friend. It's not just that the Pirates aren't winning; Guffy is pushing them into loss. His antagonism results in so much stress that the players freeze, and are unable to get past their anxiety (much like we saw with Pat Pemberton in Pat and Mike). It's enjoyable to see Guffy gradually relax and relate to those around him; we see the man beneath the acrimony and find he can be a pretty nice person. Mr. Douglas was not the first choice for the part - originally, Clark Gable was to have played Guffy (AFI catalog).

While it is true that Janet Leigh (Jennifer Paige) is rather young to play Paul Douglas' love interest (Mr. Douglas was 20 years her senior), she is very convincing as the household hints reporter who is sent to the ballpark to do a human interest piece on the Pirates and McGovern. It's made quite clear that Jennifer has no knowledge of baseball, but she has an inquiring mind, and quickly absorbs the niceties of the game. Ms. Leigh was on the verge of marrying Tony Curtis when she was filming this picture. A photo of her being carried from the ball field by Pirate outfielder Ralph Kiner hit the newspapers, intimating a relationship between the two. Mr. Curtis was assured by Ms. Leigh that it was all a fabrication (Janet Leigh: A Biography by Michaelangelo Capua)

This was Donna Corcoran's (Bridget White) first screen appearance.  She comes from screen stock - her siblings Hugh, Brian, Kelly, Noreen (Kelly on Bachelor Father), and Kevin (Moochie from Spin and Marty) were all actors. She's winning as the little girl who summons the angels to assist her beloved Pirates, and you can well believe the growing affection of the two adults for this winsome child. Ms. Corcoran had a brief acting career; by 1963 (at the age of 21) she had retired from television and film.

There are several other performances of note. The always enjoyable Spring Byington (Sister Edwitha) is fun as the baseball-loving head of the orphanage. Lewis Stone (Arnold P. Hapgood) as a judge tasked with deciding Guffy's competence gets one satisfying segment. Keenan Wynn is appropriately despicable as a nasty sports writer. There are brief appearances by Ellen Corby (Sister Veronica) and Barbara Billingsley (Hat-check Girl); by Bing Crosby (an owner of the Pittsburgh Pirates (TCM article)), Joe DiMaggio, and Ty Cobb. But the standout in his small role is Bruce Bennett. His portrayal of Saul fairly oozes with the exhaustion of a man who is in his last season in a game he loves. Mr. Bennett doesn't often get strong parts, but this is one in which he makes the most of a minor, but crucial role.

Because the marketers thought the overseas market would not understand the word "outfield", the name of the film in Europe was The Angels and the Pirates. In April, 1953, Ms. Leigh and Ms. Corcoran reprized their roles on the Lux Radio Theatre (with George Murphy as Guffy).

In his book Mr. Deeds Goes to Yankee Stadium: Baseball Films in the Capra Tradition,  author Wes D. Gehring discusses the influence of Frank Capra on this film. And certainly this is true. There is a certain Capraesque quality to the film. The New York Times review was primarily positive (though the reviewer wanted the New York Giants to win. I can sympathize). In short, this is an amiable movie well worth watching.  We'll leave you with the trailer.

Joan Bakes

There's been a murder. Monte Beragon (Zachary Scott), the second husband of Mildred Pierce (1945) is dead, and the prime suspect is Mildred's (Joan Crawford) ex-husband, Bert (Bruce Bennett). As Mildred relates the story of her life with Bert, Monte, and her children, we realize there are several suspects to the crime, including Bert's former partner Wally Fay (Jack Carson) and the Pierce's oldest daughter, Veda (Ann Blyth).

Our group discussed Mildred Pierce back in 2011;  we decided it was time for a re-watch.  The first reaction to the film this time was remembering how much we all despised Veda Pierce.  Ann Blyth plays her part with such supreme self-obsession that it's hard to find anything good about Veda. Even when she is telling her doting mother how much she loves her, Ms. Blyth has a look in her eyes that displays her manipulative behavior.  It's a remarkable performance, and one which Ms. Blyth does not couch by trying to make the audience like her (Shirley Temple was considered for the part - Director Michael Curtiz was not sympathetic).   Ms. Blyth did an interview at the TCM Film Festival (you can see her discussion of this film begins beginning at 5:14).

Jack Carson  was, at one point, considered for the role of Monte Beragon (AFI catalog). It's hard to imagine him as a loafer - Wally Fay is constantly in motion, always looking for a deal, always on the make for one woman or another. Zachary Scott, on the other hand seems tailor-made for the passive Monte, a man who's never lifted a finger to do anything besides play polo and take other people's money.  The casting of Mr. Scott is an easy choice - it's helpful that he looks rather caddish, and since we know from the start that Monte is the victim, the audience can just wait to find out what he did that resulted in his murder (Zachary Scott: Hollywood's Sophisticated Cad by Ronald L. Davis).

Zachary Scott was born in Austin, TX; he left his home town at age 19 - he dropped out of college and worked on a freighter bound for London, where he worked in repertory theatre for nearly two years. Once back in Texas, he continued to appear on the stage; there, he was noticed by Alfred Lunt. Small parts on Broadway followed (he appeared in 6 Broadway productions throughout his career), which led to a contract from Warner Brothers. He never really evolved much beyond supporting roles in films like Shadow on the Wall (1950) and Flamingo Road (1949); his major starring role was in The Southerner (1945). By the 1950s, he was moving to television like many of his colleagues. Married twice (he had a child with each wife), he died in 1965 at the age of 51 of a brain tumor. 

If there is one person who comes close to stealing the film from Joan Crawford, it's Eve Arden (Ida Corwin). Besides bringing some humor to this melodramatic story, she the voice of truth She has what is perhaps the best line in the film (certainly the best comment on Veda): "Personally, Veda's convinced me that alligators have the right idea. They eat their young."  Ms. Arden received her only Oscar nomination (with Ann Blyth) in the Supporting Actress category (they both lost to Anne Revere in National Velvet).  She would later say that she never expected the part to bring her a nomination (TCM articles). 

Though it was nominated for 6 Oscars, the only winner that night was Joan Crawford, who wasn't even the first choice for the role - Michael Curtiz wanted Barbara Stanwyck. Ms Crawford wasn't at the ceremony, however. Fearing she would not win (see Ann Blyth's TCM tribute to Joan Crawford), Ms. Crawford took to her bed and called in sick. However, when she was notified that she had indeed won the award, she invited the press into her bedroom, where she prettily sat in her sickbed with the Oscar in her hand. 

 

The story was remade as a television miniseries in 2011 starring Kate Winslet.  With more time (five one-hour episodes), and no production code to deal with, the miniseries is closer in plot to James M. Cain's original book.  Carol Burnett did one of her memorable spoofs, "Mildred Fierce" (shoulder pads and all!). The film was added to the National Film Registry in 1996.

If you've never seen this production, treat yourself and find a copy - it's one of Ms. Crawford's finest performances (allegedly, her favorite role), and a film noir par excellence. Here's a trailer to whet your appetite.

Humphrey Burns

The kickoff film for this year's TCM Presents was  The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948), which celebrates its 70th Anniversary this year. Humphrey Bogart stars as Fred C. Dobbs, a down-on-his-luck American stuck in Tampico, Mexico. He's broke, it's next to impossible to get a job, so he spends his day hitting up an American tourist (John Huston) for food money ("Can you spot a fellow American to a meal?"). When he finally is able to get a job, it's from a cheat named Pat McCormick (Barton MacLane), who disappears without paying Dobbs and his friend, Curtin (Tim Holt). Curtin and Dobbs are eventually able to locate McCormick, and "persuade" him to give them their pay. Using that money, and $200 that Dobbs wins from the lottery, the pair and prospector Howard (Walter Huston) head out to the Mexican hills to find gold. But gold can change people, Howard cautions, and Dobbs will become a victim of that change.

Director John Huston cast his father, Walter Huston as the knowing prospector. It's an amazing performance which won Walter the Academy Award for best supporting actor.  But it almost didn't happen.  A highly regarded leading man on both stage and screen (the little jig he does in the film was taught to him by Eugene O'Neill when Mr. Huston appeared on Broadway in Desire Under the Elms (Lincoln Center Film Society)), Huston Sr didn't object to playing an older man - he'd already played James Cagney's father in Yankee Doodle Dandy. But son John's insistence that he remove his dentures was just too much even for a father trying to support his son's career. John and Mr. Bogart would eventually resort to holding Mr. Huston down and forcibly removing the teeth, much to Walter Huston's chagrin. But the difference in his speaking voice was so noticeable that he finally agreed to appear without his teeth. (TCM articles). It's interesting to note that, on some of the poster art, the drawing of Walter Huston looks like him in most of his films, not as he appears in this film (see the poster below).

Born in Canada in 1883, Walter Huston began his career on the stage, primarily in touring companies. His first marriage postponed his acting career: he worked in an electric power plant to support his wife and son. When the marriage ended, he returned to the stage - this time vaudeville - working with his second wife, until he began getting roles on Broadway. Between 1924 and 1946, he would appear in 14 plays - musicals and dramas - including Dodsworth, which he would also bring to the screen. He was nominated 4 times for Oscars (Dodsworth (1936), The Devil and Daniel Webster (1941), Yankee Doodle Dandy (1942)), finally winning for this film. He worked with his son on other films, including The Maltese Falcon (1941) where he played the dying Captain Jacoby, and providing narration for John's wartime documentaries (i.e. Let Their Be Light (1946)). His third marriage in 1931 endured until his death of an aortic aneurym at age 67 in 1950. For more on Walter Huston, see this Los Angeles Times obituary.

Humphrey Bogart was not the studio's first choice for Dobbs - Edward G. Robinson was initially suggested, though John Huston badly wanted to Bogart for the part. Ronald Reagan and John Garfield were considered for Curtin, and Zachary Scott was in the running for the part of James Cody (which would go to Bruce Bennett). It's been said that Ann Sheridan did a walk-on as a prostitute, but the woman in question does not look a bit like her, so it's probably urban myth. (AFI catalog)

Bogart, of course, is amazingly good in a characterization that morphs so dramatically during the course of the film. He's not a bad man in the beginning - even when he forcibly takes his salary from Pat McCormick, he only takes the money due to him and Curtin. He even pays the bartender for the damage to the saloon from his own money. But as the gold starts to mount, so does his greed and paranoia. At one point, he most closely resembles Gollum in The Lord of the Rings, crouching and giggling over his wealth.

There are some uncredited performances to look out for. The Mexican Boy Selling Lottery Tickets is portrayed by Robert Blake, who would later star in the TV show Baretta.  Jack Holt, a silent and sound actor, perhaps remembered today for his appearance in San Francisco (1936) is one of the residents of the flophouse where Dobbs and Curtin meet Howard.  And the Lone Ranger's colleague Tonto, Jay Silverheels appears as the Indian Guide at Pier.

John Huston filmed much of the action for the film in Mexico; finally he was dragged back to Warner Brothers to complete filming when the costs became too high. He worked with an advisor, who Mr. Huston believed was actually the author of the novel, B. Traven. The advisor denied this, but the BBC later confirmed John Huston's theory.  Check out this New York Times article on the author, as well as the BBC broadcast.

Besides Walter Huston's Academy Award, the film also won for Best Direction and Adapted Screenplay to John Huston - the first time a father and son won Oscars (and the only time thusfar for the same film). It was also nominated for Best Picture, but lost to Hamlet). In April of 1948, Humphrey Bogart and Walter Huston reprised their roles for the Lux Radio Theatre; in February 1955 Edmund O'Brien and Walter Brennan performed the radio play for Lux.  The Treasure of the Sierra Madre was #38 on AFI's 100 Years, 100 Movies, 10th Anniversary Edition (it was #30 on the original list), as well as being listed at #36 in their 100 Greatest Movie Quotes (for the oft midquoted: "Badges? We ain't got no badges! We don't need no badges! I don't have to show you any stinking badges!"), and #67 in the 100 Most Thrilling American Films. In 1990, it was added to the  National Film Registry (the second year of the registry).  

We'll leave you with the trailer for this excellent film. If you've not seen it before, you are in for a treat.