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The Treasure Of The Sierra Madre (1948)
The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948) is a classic tale of the
elusive search for gold in the Sierra Madre Mountains by a trio
of ill-matched prospectors that meet in Tampico, Mexico.
Director John Huston's third feature film, is a combination
adventure story and Western shot almost entirely on location
(one of the first). [It was shot in Tampico, San Jose de Purua
and in Durango. The night scenes were shot in the studio.]
The expensive-to-make ($3 million), over-budget film is also an
intense character study showing the corruptive and cancerous
effects of greed on the souls of men. It is the definitive film
on greed, although Wall Street (1987) with Michael Douglas' Best
Actor-winning role as Gordon Gecko comes close. Although the
film did poorly at the box-office when first released, its
critical success and a number of re-releases eventually brought
it financial returns.
Huston often directed films with the theme of a disparate group
on a quest/search for wealth, e.g., The Maltese Falcon (1941),
The Asphalt Jungle (1950), Beat the Devil (1953), The Kremlin
Letter (1970), and The Man Who Would Be King (1975). This was
Huston's first post-war film. One of the film's posters
clarified the theme: "The Nearer They Get to Their Treasure, the
Farther They Get From the Law!"
After the group strikes it rich, warnings from a crazy but sage
old prospector (Walter Huston) about the ways that gold makes a
person suspicious and avaricious fall on the deaf ears of a
mean, wary and sneering Dobbs (Bogart) - and he meets his just
and greedy end at the hands of bandits. One of the bandits
delivers one of the most famous lines in film history, briefly
spoofed and misquoted in Mel Brooks' Blazing Saddles (1974)):
Badges? We ain't got no badges! We don't need no badges. I don't
have to show you any stinkin' badges!
(Note: The bandit never actually said, as in Brooks' film:
"Badges? We don't need no stinkin' badges!")
The screenplay, written by Huston, was based upon the 1936 novel
of the same name by B. Traven (a pen name for Berwick Traven
Torsvan), an elusive and mysterious individual who showed up
during the filming under an assumed name (as Hal Croves,
Traven's representative and 'attorney'), and served as one of
the film's technical advisors after claiming that he had been
sent by the reclusive author.
The Hustons (John and father Walter) received the film's three
Academy Awards - out of four nominations: Best Supporting Actor
(Walter Huston with his sole Oscar win after three previous
losses), Best Director (John Huston), and Best Screenplay (John
Huston). Its sole losing nomination was for Best Picture (it
lost to Laurence Olivier's Hamlet). With his award, Huston
became the first to direct his own father to an Oscar, and it
was the first instance of a son and father winning in the same
year. [Huston had previously directed his father in a small,
unbilled role in The Maltese Falcon (1941), his first film. At
78 years of age, he would go on to direct his daughter Angelica
in his 40th film Prizzi's Honor (1985) - she won the Best
Supporting Actress Oscar. This made the Hustons the first family
with three generations of Oscar winners. And John Huston became
the only person to direct both his father and daughter in
Oscar-winning roles.]
Unbelievably, Humphrey Bogart's quintessential role as a
paranoid, vicious, and murderous gold-prospector named Fred C.
Dobbs (a tremendous, against-type, richly-layered performance)
was missing from the nominees. [Director Sam Peckinpah paid
homage to Dobbs in Bring Me The Head of Alfredo Garcia (1974),
including a character with the same name.] Also lacking was a
nomination for the great cinematography by Ted McCord. [This was
Bogart's third collaboration with Huston, after The Maltese
Falcon (1941), and Across the Pacific (1942). He also appeared
in Key Largo (1948), his second film with Huston in 1948.
Curiously, Claire Trevor won the Best Supporting Actress for her
performance in Huston's Key Largo (1948) in the same year.
Bogart would go on to make two more films with Huston in his
career: The African Queen (1951), in which he won his sole Best
Actor Academy Award, and Beat the Devil (1953).]
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After the credits, a close-up of a lottery list shows the
winning numbers drawn in the Mexican National Lottery, dated
February 14, 1925. The camera pulls back to the hands of a man
holding a lottery ticket and comparing his number with the
posted winners. [Mariachi band music provides soft background
ambience.] The scraggly-looking bum, an unkempt, dirty, unshaven
and ragged scrounger [later identified as Fred C. Dobbs "Dobbsie"
(Humphrey Bogart)] who is betting on a fortune, tears his losing
ticket to pieces and throws it away in anger and disgust.
Defeated once again, he turns and walks into the busy, filthy
Mexican street and down under a marketplace's archway, where he
asks an American for a handout: "Say buddy, will you stake a
fellow American...?" The man disregards Dobbs, turns away, moves
on and tosses his half-smoked cigarette butt into the street.
After pausing - when he stares at it and considers his pride,
Dobbs loses the butt to a Mexican street urchin who beats him to
it. The youngster, without any hesitation, picks it off the
ground and struts away puffing smoke.
The disgruntled, hard-luck panhandler quickens his pace after
another American, a Man in a White Suit (director John Huston).
He asks the affluent gentleman: "Hey mister, could you stake a
fellow American to a meal?" To his surprise, Dobbs is handed a
coin. At an outdoor sidewalk cafe after ordering coffee, a meal
and smokes, a ragged Mexican beggar boy (a young Robert Blake)
tries to sell Dobbs another lottery ticket, but he turns surly
and irritable. He bursts into a rage at the scamp: "Beat it. I
ain't buying no lottery tickets." He projects his own annoyance
and resentment of beggars at the boy (although he is one
himself):
Get away from me, ya little beggar!
To get rid of the kid, he becomes a bully and flings a glass of
water in the boy's face. But then feeling compelled to buy the
ticket from the persistent boy and believing (against all hope)
that he might win ("Add the figures up, you get thirteen. What
better number could you buy? It's a sure winner"), he is
persuaded to purchase a minuscule part of a ticket for a drawing
three weeks off: "All right. Give me a twentieth so I don't have
to look at your ugly face."
Leaving the restaurant, Dobbs walks across the street to the
park where he sits down on one of the benches in the plaza's
square next to a fellow vagrant struggling under similar
circumstances. Sharing a cigarette and grousing small talk, the
two befriend each other in the hot, mid-1920s Tampico, Mexico,
on the edge of newly-discovered oil fields. They are both broke,
out-of-work, starving and reduced to the humiliation of begging.
Dobbs laments that a white gringo without work is doomed to
lower-class status. If he was to shine shoes or sell lemonade on
the street, that would guarantee his ostracism by fellow
gringos, or worse, discrimination (by hounding and pestering)
from the natives. He bemoans his isolation and inability to
function within the alien culture ("It's some town to be broke
in"):
If I was a native, I'd get me a can of shoe polish and I'd be in
business. They'd never let a gringo. You can sit on a bench to
get three-quarters starved. You can beg from another gringo. You
can even commit burglary. But try shining shoes in the street or
peddling lemonade out of a bucket and your hash is settled.
You'd never get another job from an American.
Seeing the generous Man in the White Suit reading the paper
while having his shoes shined, Dobbs goes over and again asks
for a hand-out. He turns speechless a second time when handed a
coin from the scowling man.
In the next scene in the local barber shop after treating
himself to a shave and haircut, the dramatic barber unwraps
Dobbs' head, douses his face with after-shave and powder, raises
the seat and then combs his greased-down hair. Dobbs inspects
the barber's handiwork - his entire slickened head - with a
mirror and non-verbally expresses his satisfaction. Out on the
street after emerging from the shop, the seedy-looking bum
notices how his hat fits more loosely. After spending part of
the handout on improving his appearance, he longs to purchase
sex for hire, but his poverty inhibits him. His eyes follow a
passing Mexican lady/prostitute? (an unlikely, unbilled
appearance by actress Ann Sheridan) who retreats up into a
two-story structure - labeled with a sign in Spanish: "CUARTOS
AMUEBLADOS" (meaning "Furnished Rooms for Rent").
When the white-suited American is asked a third time for money,
he becomes irritated and rebukes him for his parasitism. The
dejected panhandler apologizes, explaining that he is ashamed to
be asking for pesos and cannot look his marks/benefactors in the
eye. He is given two more pesos coins so that he won't forget
his promise to "never put the bite" on him again. Dobbs is
warned by the Man in the White Suit that his philanthropy will
cease:
White Suit: Such impudence never came my way. Early this
afternoon I gave you money. When I was having my shoes polished,
I gave you more money. Now you put the bite on me again. Do me a
favor, will ya? Go occasionally to somebody else. It's beginning
to get tiresome.
Dobbs: Oh, excuse me, mister. I never knowed it was you. I never
looked at your face. I just looked at your hands and the money
you gave me. Beg my pardon, mister. I promise I'll never put the
bite on you again.
White Suit: (He hands over a peso.) This is the very last you
get from me. Just to make sure you don't forget your promise,
here's another peso. (He hands him a second peso.) ...But from
now on, you have to make your way through life without my
assistance.
[The in-joke is that the director often provided the livelihood
for Bogart by having him star in six of his films, including The
Maltese Falcon (1941), Across the Pacific (1942), and Key Largo
(1948). Incidentally, Huston also wrote the screenplay for High
Sierra (1941), another Bogey vehicle.]
Outside a cantina, the bum panhandles from another mark - an
entrepreneur with an oil-rigging outfit who instead offers him a
construction job to rig a camp - "it's hard work but good
pay...Eight bucks American a day." Dobbs is enticed to accept
work from the seemingly-benevolent contractor Pat McCormick
(Barton MacLane): "I'm your man." As they walk to the ferry,
they pass a store display with stiff male and female mannequins
dressed in wedding attire - lifelessly advertising and selling
love to the masses. At the landing, Dobbs recognizes one of the
work gang, a motley, haggard crew of drifters and soldiers of
fortune, as the man with whom he had a conversation on the bench
during the morning. In the darkness of night, the ferry whistle
blows, the gate swings closed, and fifty men are ferried into
the jungle.
They work long, back-breaking hours in the steam, smoke and
hellish, tropical heat of the camp rigging and erecting an oil
derrick: "It's a hundred and thirty in the shade an' there ain't
any shade up there on that derrick." Their pay is withheld until
the job is done, but they are promised a bonus if they finish
within two weeks. When they "step off the ferry" in Tampico
after the job is done, McCormick promises the two panhandlers
that he must go to the office and pick up the payroll. He gives
them ten pesos in advance and promises to meet them about an
hour later at the cantina right off the Plaza.
By seven o'clock that evening, the two have been drinking in the
cantina waiting for McCormick - and they're left high and dry.
Another customer has experienced the contractor's reputation for
absconding with funds and lets them know about McCormick's shady
character - he fleeces "foreigners and half-baked Americans."
Early on, they share tribulation together - having learned the
lesson that when money is involved, no one can be trusted:
Only foreigners and half-baked Americans fall for McCormick's
tricks...I mean he hires dumb guys like you to work for him, and
when it comes time to pay off, he takes a powder.
The younger American, named Curtin (B-movie actor Tim Holt),
asks the mangy American drifter Dobbs how many centavos are left
between them and wonders whether they can afford a bed in a
cockroach-infested flophouse. Dobbs tells Curtin about some
cheap sleeping quarters for the night: "I know a joint that's
full of rats, scorpions, and cockroaches. The cots are only
fifty centavos a night." In Dormitorio "El Oso Negro," the two
check in and move down the narrow aisle between rows of cots on
which other disinherited Americans are sitting or lying.
They pass by and overhear a scruffy, experienced, eccentric,
toothless old gold prospector named Howard (Walter Huston, the
director's father) who has gathered an enthralled audience while
describing the adventurous hunt for gold:
Howard: Gold in Mexico? Why sure there is. Not ten days from
here by rail and pack train, there's a mountain waiting for the
right guy to come along, discover a treasure, and then tickle
her until she lets him have it. The question is, are you the
right guy?...Aw, real bonanzas are few and far between that take
a lot of finding. Say, answer me this one, will ya? Why's gold
worth some twenty bucks an ounce?
Another man: I don't know. 'Cause it's scarce.
Howard: A thousand men, say, go searching for gold. After six
months, one of 'em is lucky - one out of the thousand. His find
represents not only his own labor but that of nine hundred and
ninety-nine others to boot. That's uh, six thousand months or
five hundred years scrabbling over mountains, going hungry and
thirsty. An ounce of gold, mister, is worth what it is because
of the human labor that went into the finding and the getting of
it.
Man: Never thought of it just like that...
Howard: Well, there's no other explanation, mister. Gold itself
ain't good for nothin' except makin' jewelry with and gold
teeth.
The shrewdly wise, grizzled and garrulous Howard continues to
regale the others (including Dobbs and Curtin now) with his
lighthearted tales about the seductive, "devilish" lure of gold.
The old prospector's stories of gold-mining fire their
imaginations as he describes how greed usually takes its toll on
treasure-seekers:
Aw, gold's a devilish sort of a thing anyway. You start out to
tell yourself you'll be satisfied with twenty-five thousand
handsome smackers worth of it, 'so help me Lord and cross my
heart.' Fine resolution. After months of sweatin' yourself dizzy
and growing short on provisions and findin' nothin', you finally
come down to fifteen thousand and then ten, finally you say,
'Lord, let me just find five thousand dollars worth and never
ask for anything more the rest of my life.'...Here in this
joint, it seems like a lot, but I tell you, if you was to make a
real strike, you couldn't be dragged away. Not even the threat
of miserable death'd keep you from trying to add ten thousand
more. Ten you want to get twenty-five. Twenty-five you want to
get fifty. Fifty, a hundred. Like roulette. One more turn, you
know, always one more.
Half-drunk, Dobbs can't restrain himself and interrupts the
conversation:
It wouldn't be that way with me. I swear it wouldn't. I'd take
only what I set out to get, even if there was still a half a
million dollars worth lying around waitin' to be picked up.
The crusty old Howard looks at Dobbs and then continues with
stories to his fellow "down-and-outers." He recalls his past
gold quests all over the world - as though he hadn't been
interrupted. He ends his tales of experience (when he witnessed
"what gold does to men's souls") by describing how the noble,
friendly, and solid intentions of gold-seekers vanished after
gold was discovered:
Howard: I've dug in Alaska and in Canada and Colorado. I was
with the crowd in British Honduras where I made my fare back
home and almost enough over to cure me of the fever I'd caught.
I've dug in California and Australia, all over the world
practically. Yeah, I know what gold does to men's souls.
Another man: You talk as though you struck it rich sometime or
other, Pop. How about it? Then what are you doin' in here, a
down-and-outer?
Howard: That's gold, that's what it makes of us. Never knew a
prospector yet that died rich. Make one fortune, you're sure to
blow it in trying to find another. I'm no exception to the rule.
Aw sure, I'm an odd old bone now, but say, don't you guys think
the spirit's gone. I'm all set to shoulder a pickax and a shovel
any time anybody's willing to share expenses. I'd rather go by
myself. Going it alone's the best way. But you got to have a
stomach for loneliness. Some guys go nutty with it. On the other
hand, going with a partner or two is dangerous. Murder's always
lurkin' about. Partners accusin' each other of all sorts of
crimes. Aw, as long as there's no find, the noble brotherhood
will last, but when the piles of gold begin to grow, that's when
the trouble starts.
After listening to the philosophical old-timer speak about the
destabilizing effects of wealth, Curtin and Dobbs share their
own reactions:
Curtin: Me, now, I wouldn't mind a little of that kind of
trouble.
Dobbs: I think I'll go to sleep and dream about piles of gold
gettin' bigger and bigger and bigger...
The next afternoon on the Plaza bench while they lounge about,
Curtin and Dobbs contemplate Howard's warnings of what lusting
for gold can do to a man's soul. Although Howard has wisely
warned them that the desire for wealth is tremendously
destructive (causing greed, distrust, and hatred), they haven't
been persuaded by his prophetic remarks to stop dreaming about
sudden wealth. They deny their own vulnerability when Dobbs
asserts that gold isn't inherently evil ("gold can be as much of
a blessing as a curse"). He is assured that he will be the
unique "right guy" - the one who won't be affected by gold's
perennial curse:
Dobbs: Do you believe what that old man who was doin' all the
talkin' at the Oso Negro said the other night about gold changin'
a man's soul so that he ain't the same kind of a guy that he was
before findin' it?
Curtin: Guess that all depends on the man.
Dobbs: That's exactly what I say. Gold don't carry any curse
with it. It all depends on whether or not the guy who finds it
is the right guy. The way I see it, gold can be as much of a
blessing as a curse.
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