rushing toward death
by Douglas Messerli
John Huston and W. R. Burnett (screenplay,
based on a novel by W. R. Burnett), Raoul Walsh (director) High Sierra / 1941
For the most part, Roy is a hard-headed cynic, but the film shows us
what critic David Thomson has argued is the other highly romantic side of actor
Bogart, as Roy falls for a farm girl, Velma (Joan Leslie) whose family are on
the way to Los Angeles, offers to marry her, and, soon after, reluctantly
adopts (or what might suggest “pardons”) a dog, Pard (Bogart’s own dog Zero),
who the motel’s black caretaker declares is bad luck, the animal having
attached himself to various figures who have all died.
Discovering that Velma is club footed, Roy arranges for the gangster
“doctor” to operate on her foot, and befriends her loving Pa (Henry
Travers)—all incidents that, despite Roy’s outward coldness, reveal a deeper,
more conflicted man, a farm boy who has become a criminal, a dangerous killer
who is nonetheless outraged when the press later dubs him as “Mad Dog Roy
Earle.” Even when he ultimately discovers that Velma is more interested in a
married drunkard than in anything he might be able to offer her, Roy, rather
than becoming bitter, takes up with Marie, hiding any pain inside.
It is, in fact, this dichotomy between the inner and outer selves of
this figure that make this film so fascinating. The man who would kill at a
moment’s notice—and has—also seeks to love and protect the weaker people he
meets. In short, it is the perfect role for Bogart, and predictably, this is
the film that catapulted him into leading roles.
One might explain this tension played out through his contradictory acts
as emanating from an understanding of who he is and what is his certain fate.
Throughout this film, Roy, described at one point as “rushing into death,” is
somewhat like a drugged man, wishing he might turn back to find another life he
somehow missed out on, but unable to change, moving forward with a deep
acceptance of his mortality. And for that reason, he becomes, despite his
destructive occupation, a kind of hero. He and Big Mac both are of the old
school, men who have lived and seen too much of life to think they might truly
get away with such an audacious heist. As Big Mac, dying of alcohol puts it,
“If I don’t lay off the booze, it’s gonna knock me off. But I’m gonna die
anyhow. So are you. So are we all,” insisting at the same moment that Roy bring
him his bottle. Mac, prepared for his death, even gives a letter to Roy,
telling him what do with the jewels should, in the interim, he die. So too does
Roy make plans with Marie to “stow” her should things turn bad.
In the end, it is not Roy’s toughness that engages us with his
character, but his unexpressed empathy and emotional needs. He is a crook with
a conscience, a kind of existentialist figure who perceives there is no exit
from the life he has chosen but death itself.
Los Angeles, September 11, 2013
Reprinted from International Cinema Review (September 2013).
No comments:
Post a Comment