by Derek Smith 10/19/08

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Often classified broadly as a film about greed and its grand thesis patly summed up with all the subtlety of a liberal Gordon Gecko or Ayn Rand, many critics and historians seem content with leaving The Treasure of Sierra Madre on the shelf until a clip is needed about the destructive nature of greed or the “badges” line is yet again drudged up for a greatest film quotes list.  Isn’t it strange that its most famous line not only comes from a periphery character but also from, at least in my opinion, not even one of its ten best scenes?  Isn’t it even stranger that this “immortal” line, “I don't have to show you any stinking badges” has been misquoted for the past 60 years and will most likely continue to be misquoted for another 60?  Are these oversimplifications and small misunderstandings a sign of the most neglected of the unquestioned classics of Hollywood’s Golden Age?  I certainly don’t mean neglected in terms of reverence since it’s rare to find the film absent from any consensus top 100 list, but its greatness is accepted as a given so much that what actually makes it a great film often goes unmentioned.

Now, I’m not going to jump in here and suggest anything radical like the film isn’t about greed, but I think Ebert was right to suggest it is a character study more than it’s about gold.  The dehumanization of Fred C. Dobbs remains one of the most frightening turns of fate in cinema and while the narrative catalysts of gold and greed are crucial in this development, at least as much credit must be given to John Huston for his astounding use of close-ups.  It’s not in the same league as The Passion of Joan of Arc, however Huston’s camera is nearly as attentive to the ticks and grooves of Bogart’s face as Dreyer to Falconetti’s.  And while I can’t deny that Bogart didn’t have the overall range as some of the other greats from the time, the subtlety of the expressions he produces, both vocally and facially, as his character struggles with the increasingly burdenous task of balancing his humanity with a desire to forever escape his poverty shows a remarkable control and efficiency within that range.  It was not merely a matter of growing a beard and throwing some grease on his face - Bogey's already odd-looking face is distorted in ways I've never seen before, expressing feelings of anguish, despair and pure rage to a degree he never again matched.

What also remains fascinating for me aside from the tandem of Huston and Bogart is the remarkably complex way the narrative tackles the subject of greed.  So often in film and literature it is portrayed through a man corrupted by power or wealth, yet here the men are simple and stuck in the daily struggle to get a meal.  Their impulse towards finding gold is initially based only on a desire to avoid suffering, to never again have to submit themselves to the humiliation of begging, to raise themselves to at least to minimum standard of a respectable human being.  Thus, rather than showing greed as a symptom of corruption, Huston attaches it to need and makes it stick on a far more universal level than if he had simply showed it as an extension of having power and/or money.  Through these three seemingly typical men, Treasure of the Sierra Madre intelligently explores the issues of greed, trust, honor and desire that none of us can escape.  Delivered in the form of a thrilling adventure film, it embodies the finest attributes of Classical Hollywood, molding form, content and entertainment into one dense package.