• Director: John Huston
• United States, 1941
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Huston’s directorial debut is a detective story about the pursuit of the titular avian, a priceless ornament whose origins are engagingly described by Sydney Greenstreet’s portly treasure hunter. The bejewelled bird, lost in history between the Knights of Malta and the Crown of Spain, has popped up once more in Istanbul and by intrigues made its way across the Atlantic, where it now threatens to upstage the entire cast of a Hollywood movie.

Because despite fielding a similar line-up of actors, Maltese lacks the exotic panache of Michael Curtiz’ Casablanca (it also fails to pull off a credible love match). Even so, it does offer smart-mouthed charm in bundles, largely thanks to Bogart’s magnetic turn as private detective Sam Spade.

Both Greenstreet and Peter Lorre as literate crooks make exceptionally good copy, but Mary Astor’s Brigid is rather wooden for modern tastes. As an adaptation of Dashiell Hammett’s atmospheric novel Maltese qualifies as classic noir but it isn’t really dark enough.