HIGH SIERRA: Blu-ray (Warner Bros. 1941) Criterion

The legendary status of one of Hollywood’s irrefutable ‘untouchables’ – Humphrey Bogart was a long time coming, and not quite there when Bogart elected to appear in Raoul Walsh’s High Sierra (1941) – a gangster picture to top anything Warner Bros. had done up till then. That’s really saying something, considering Warner’s was home to the likes of George Raft, Edward G. Robinson and James Cagney – celebrated tough guys in the pantheon of rebel-rousing crooks, hoods and mafia-types, with Buick-sized chips on their shoulders, and gats ready for any gangland war. Yet, with iconic performances from Bogie – as Roy ‘Mad Dog’ Earle – and the studio’s resident hard-bitten realist, Ida Lupino (top-billed as Mary Garson), a tough-as-nails screenplay co-authored by John Huston and W.R. Burnett (inspired by the latter’s novel) and Walsh’s swift and sophisticated direction, High Sierra proved it had everything a blue-chip actioner needed to succeed. And succeed it did, ringing registers around the world, instantly, to elevate Bogart from W.B.’s murderer’s row to A-list movie star. Not bad. It had only taken 5 years. Yet, the achievement is even more impressive when one considers Bogart was 42-yrs.-old, hardly the ‘right’ age for a leading man or matinee idol, and even more devastating in hindsight, as he only had 15 yrs. left to live, dying of esophageal cancer in 1957.  At Bogie’s funeral, long-time collaborator and friend, John Huston spoke most eloquently about the fallen idol, saying, “Himself, he never took too seriously – his work most seriously. He regarded the somewhat gaudy figure of Bogart, the star, with an amused cynicism. Bogart, the actor, he held in deep respect…He is quite irreplaceable. There will never be another like him.”

While High Sierra undeniably remains the springboard for Bogart’s meteoric rise at Warner Bros., after a lengthy, fallow period, playing weirdly depraved hoodlums, scummy goons, and reprobates on the sleazy fringe of organized crime, usually coming to no good in the final reel, the ‘star’ of High Sierra was decidedly Ida Lupino’s slight but determined ingenue. The Brit-born Lupino, who had begun her career as a singer come actress, eventually moving beyond the footlights to direct and produce (and this, at a time when women behind the camera were neither the norm nor even oft’ accepted), Lupino steadfastly earned a reputation for being one of the hardest working women in Hollywood. A naturalized citizen by 1948, Lupino’s prominence as a filmmaker was elevated when she established her own indie production house where she not only produced, but co-wrote and directed features, many dealing with hard-edged social issues her contemporaries did not dare to approach (unwed pregnancy, battling polio, rape, bigamy). Lupino and Bogart had worked together the year before on They Drive by Night (1940) – to co-star, George Raft: ironically, the studio’s first choice for High Sierra. In fact, Bogart was later to glibly thank Raft for his lack of foresight. Indeed, High Sierra and Casablanca (1942) - two refusals from Raft, became the cornerstones and anchoring set-pieces to ‘officially’ launch Bogart as a bona fide movie star while simultaneously hastening the decline of Raft’s already well-established star-power on the Warner backlot.

Rumor has it Bogart, hungry for the part, worked on Raft to convince him ‘Mad Dog’ Earle was not for him. Whatever the truth in this, Raft bowed out, believing High Sierra was just ‘another’ gangster role where his character would have to die at the end. But the studio then turned to their favorite chameleon, Paul Muni to fill the plume role. Alas, he too rejected it for similar reasons. And thus, Bogart – who wanted it more than any of them – was finally given consideration. Even so, Walsh was not entirely certain of this decision. Indeed, he went to Jack Warner, suggesting, while Bogart had proven his mettle as a supporting player, he could hardly be considered a leading man. But Bogart proved Walsh wrong. And while Bogart played Roy Earle as a mistrusting menace with a heart, he engaged his own dog – Zero – for the character’s fictional four-legged friend, ‘Pard’. For the penultimate death of Mad Dog, a dramatic tumble down a steep rocky precipice, stuntman Buster Wiles, played the corpse. Zero, however, would not attend this stranger, well disguised and made up to look like his fallen master. Thus, to get ‘Pard’ to gingerly lick Earle’s hand, Wiles concealed a fistful of dog biscuits. Reportedly, the first take of Wiles falling from the cliff resulted in a few unintentional bounces down the mountain, Wiles suggesting to Walsh he could do it better the next time. “Forget it,” Walsh reportedly said, “It’s good enough for the 25-cent crowd!”

High Sierra kicks into high gear with the introduction of gangster, Big Mac (Donald McBride) who is plotting the daring robbery of a high-roller California resort in Tropico Springs. Mac wants Roy ‘Mad Dog’ Earle, newly released from prison by a governor's pardon he arranged, as his point man for the heist. Roy agrees, driving into the mountains for a rendezvous with Mac’s goon squad, slickster, Louis Mendoza (Cornel Wilde) a clerk at the hotel, Red Hattery (Arthur Kennedy) and Babe Kozak (Alan Curtis), already living at the camp. Babe has brought along his dance-hall gal/pal, Marie Garson. Roy, however, is opposed to Marie. She’s a distraction. And men with a crime to commit do not need distractions. Marie resents the implication she is a liability rather than an asset, and after a heated exchange, she convinces Roy she is worth his time.  Meanwhile, Roy adopts a mutt he names Pard. Marie begins to harbor affections for Roy. These, however, go unrequited as Roy continues to plan the perfect robbery. On his drive into the mountains, Roy meets the Baughman family, mom (Minna Gombell), dad (Paul Harvey) and their young daughter, Velma (Joan Leslie), afflicted with a clubbed foot causing a limp. Secretly, Roy pays for corrective surgery to restore Velma’s mobility. Despite her grandfather's protestations, Roy asks Velma to be his wife, but is crestfallen when Velma explains she is already engaged to another man. When Velma's fiancé, Art (Robert Strange) arrives, Roy transfers his interests to Marie, who is willing. The two quickly become lovers.

Alas, Roy’s clouded judgement leads to a fatal error. The heist is intercepted by a security guard, Roy barely making his getaway with Marie. Alas, a crash in the car carrying Mendoza, Red, and Babe results in the latter two being instantly killed. Mendoza is captured and made to talk, thereupon putting the police on Roy’s trail. Roy hurries to Big Mac to trade the jewels from their ill-timed robbery for some quick cash he and Marie can use in their escape to freedom. Alas, Roy discovers Mac has died from an apparent heart attack. Roy and Marie leave town. But already the dragnet is tightening. Marie and Roy split up. Roy is pursued by the police up a steep embankment in the Sierra mountains. Taking refuge behind some craggy rocks, Roy attempts to single-handedly hold the police at bay with his gun. Tragically, Roy has developed a genuine heart. At sunrise, he hears Pard barking, and assuming Marie is close at hand, calls out her name. Instead, a police sniper picks him off with a rifle, Roy plummeting to his death in the canyon below.  A tearful Marie and empathetic Pard comfort as police look on.

On the surface, High Sierra is just another tightly woven programmer from the Warner Bros. stable, made during an epoch where both the popularity and potency of the crime/drama was already on the wane. The picture’s success ensured two things: first, the studio had a certifiable star in Bogart, and second, the gangland feature, greatly tempered with the introduction of Hollywood’s self-governing code of censorship, was still a very viable form of popular entertainment…provided its ‘crime doesn’t pay’ moral was upheld. Raoul Walsh, who had begun his career as an actor, and was, for a time, best remembered for playing Lincoln’s assassin in D.W. Griffith’s silent masterpiece, The Birth of a Nation (1915), returned from WWI to direct. Walsh spent much of the 1930’s as a grunt director at Paramount before embarking on a legendary career at Warner Bros. in 1939, beginning with The Roaring Twenties (1939), followed by They Drive by Night (1940), High Sierra, They Died with Their Boots On, The Strawberry Blonde, and, Manpower (all of them directed in 1941). One of the steadiest working directors on the Warner backlot, Walsh's contract was allowed to lapse in 1953. He made only a handful of movies thereafter, before retiring in 1964.

Viewed today, High Sierra remains a Bogart tour de force – arguably, Bogie’s first. Bogart’s delineation of the character as more than just a toughie with a gun is commendable. Moreover, Bogart manages to create sympathy for his alter ego. Roy Earle, a career criminal with an enviably morbid past in various crime syndicates, is made a whole person by Bogart. He offers us an underlay of the tragic, also, an unexpected tender soft side to a man who otherwise publicly professes to have none. The chemistry between Bogart and Lupino is genuine and smells of sex. Indeed, Bogart and Lupino would remain great friends – she, admiring his professionalism, determination and work ethic, and he, amused and impressed by Lupino’s ability to indulge in strong drink and blue humor uncharacteristic of most Hollywood leading ladies of her vintage. Indeed, Lupino was well-regarded on the backlot as ‘just one of the guys’ – a compliment indeed. The screenplay by William R. Burnett and John Huston rides the rails at a breakneck pace. Burnett, a drinking pal of Huston’s, was known for his slick and to-the-point dialogue, while Huston, then setting his sights on the director’s chair, was able to write drama and action better than anyone – finding a kindred spirit in Bogart, as well as his muse for the next few years. High Sierra is unique also in that much of it was shot on location at Mount Whitney in the Sierra Nevada of California. Stunningly photographed in B&W by 5-time-Oscar-nominated cinematographer extraordinaire, Tony Gaudio, whose brief, but memorable career included such masterpieces as Hell's Angels (1930), Little Caesar (1931), Anthony Adverse (1936 – for which he won a justly deserved Oscar), The Life of Emile Zola (1937), The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938), Juarez (1939), The Letter (1940), A Song to Remember (1945), and The Red Pony (1949), Gaudio’s crisply executed deep focus on High Sierra greatly enhances the ‘you are there’ reality of the piece. When the dust on High Sierra had settled, the studio had another mega hit on their hands, John Huston was given the opportunity to direct on his next picture, and Humphrey Bogart was quite suddenly – and much to Raoul Walsh’s great surprise, Warner Bros. biggest star.

The Criterion Blu-ray release of High Sierra is, indeed, cause for celebration. While the Warner Archive has been extremely proactive in resurrecting Bogart’s career classics in hi-def, for one reason or another they failed to address High Sierra…until now, farming it out to the indie ‘boutique’ label instead for this deluxe treatment. Advertised as derived from a newly restored 4K digital transfer, the results here serve as a quantum uptick in video quality from Warner’s long-retired DVD.  The Criterion sports a bright and fully nuanced B&W image with supple contrast and ample grain looking very indigenous to its source. Better still, age-related artifacts have been eradicated. I cannot imagine High Sierra looking any better than this! And, for fans of Walsh’s work, Criterion has included, as a ‘bonus’, Walsh’s long-thought-of-as-lost western, Colorado Territory (1949) on a separate disc, co-starring Joel McCrea and Virginia Mayo.  It’s marked as ‘unrestored’ in 1080p, but sourced from a 35 mm OCN housed at the Library of Congress and exhibits visible damage, missing frames and age-related artifacts. The PCM mono on both features is, predictably, limited, but solid.

Best of all, extras abound. From 2003, Curtains for Roy Earle, with Bogart biographer, Eric Lax, film critic, Leonard Maltin, and Turner Classic Movies host, the late Robert Osborne, and actress, Joan Leslie. There’s also 1997’s Bogart: Here’s Looking at You, Kid, a 51-minute doc produced for the BBC’s The South Bank Show, with rare archival footage and contributions from Lauren Bacall, their son, Stephen, critic, Ty Burr, screenwriter, Julius Epstein and author Joe Hyams. We get a video essay with snippets from the AFI’s 1976 interview with novelist/screenwriter W. R. Burnett, also featuring writer, Dennis L. White, a 1/2-hour 1944 radio adaptation for The Screen Guild Theater, a new 14-minute interview with film/media historian, Miriam J. Petty and a trailer. All this is on the first Blu-ray disc. On disc 2, we get 20-minutes on Walsh from Dave Kehr and critic, Farran Smith Nehme, The True Adventures of Raoul Walsh, a 1 ½ hour doc from 2019 by Marilyn Ann Moss, extensively researched with contributions from filmmaker, Peter Bogdanovich, actors, Illeana Douglas, Jane Russell, and Jack Larson, media historian, Norman Klein and film critic, Leonard Maltin. Finally, there are extensive liner notes from critic, Imogen Sara Smith. Bottom line: High Sierra is a high octane/high action, gritty affair. This deluxe Blu-ray set is definitely the way to appreciate one of Bogart’s and Warner Bros. finest films in their illustrious history. Enjoy!

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

5+

VIDEO/AUDIO

High Sierra 4.5

Colorado Territory 3.5

EXTRAS

5+