The Treasure of the Sierra Madre

The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948) is so often quoted, parodied and reworked that it's impossible to see it completely fresh. Even casual filmgoers recognize the "stinking badges" exchange, Walter Huston's dancing prospector and climactic maniacal laughter. But John Huston's classic hasn't lost power through imitation; it's as close to perfect as a picture can get.

Down-and-out Americans Fred C. Dobbs (Humphrey Bogart) and Curtin (Tim Holt) drift through Mexico, circa 1925. They're hired in Tampico by an oil boss (Barton MacLaine) who swindles them out of wages. Dobbs and Curtin join grizzled prospector Howard (Walter Huston) to hunt for gold in the Sierra Madre. The three strike it rich, but find their discovery threatened by interloper Cody (Bruce Bennett) and bandits led by Gold Hat (Alfonso Bedoya). The trio fend off these challenges but find their own worst enemy.

Treasure of the Sierra Madre is a remarkable picture, with unique qualities obvious and subtle. Huston shot the bulk of it on location in Mexico. A few nighttime scenes were filmed on Hollywood back lots, but it's hard to tell the difference. Huston eschews stereotypes by presenting a gallery Mexican characters, from greasy bandits to friendly Indians and tough villagers. (That several scenes play in untranslated Spanish impresses, too.) Most obvious is Treasure's complete lack of romance, aside from a poignant letter-reading scene. Huston presages Sam Peckinpah's The Wild Bunch in his exploration of male camaraderie, then undercuts it.

Adapting B. Traver's novel, writer-director Huston crafts a splendid tale that feels much shorter than 126 minutes. Ted D. McCord's expressive photography captures the sweaty, seedy atmosphere through deep focus close-ups and emotive lighting. Gold Hat's bandits provide several conventional action scenes, though even these have unique touches; for once our heroes have to reload periodically! Huston removes Curtin and Howard from the narrative, forcing Dobbs to confront his demons alone. We're robbed of a conventional denouement, Huston making the protagonists victims of a cosmic joke.

Far from a simple morality play, Treasure dissects its protagonists in painstaking detail. At first, the three men show solidarity in their work, even agreeing to murder Cody to preserve their share. How much it's necessity or cold capitalist pragmatism is open to question. But despite Howard's warnings that any of them could turn on each other, Dobbs drives their descent into madness. Howard's common sense buoys his young colleagues; Curtin mainly reacts to Dobb's bluster. Dobbs's introduced bumming money and beating up his boss; he's not a good guy driven mad by gold, but a louse itching to be a monster.

Which brings us to Humphrey Bogart, doing some of his best work. Many claim Bogart plays against type, but recall his numerous villain roles through the '30s. Even Rick Blane and Sam Spade weren't exactly angels. Bogart plays up his rough side, a grouchy cynic easily driven to psychotic paranoia. Bogart overplays some later scenes, but perhaps that's the script's fault; there's not much subtlety in Dobbs' decline. It works on a more elemental level, Bogart embodying a tragic monster with monstrous relish. 

Walter Huston won Best Supporting Actor for this performance. Huston's work plays broadly by modern standards, from his famous jig to leering mannerisms and clipped line readings. But Howard's such a fun character we don't begrudge Huston some scenery chewing. Tim Holt (Stagecoach) and Bruce Bennett's (Mildred Pierce) limited roles make good use of their stiff acting. Alfonso Bedoya (Border Incident) makes a charismatic, almost likeable villain. John Huston appears briefly as an American swindled by Dobbs; young Robert Blake is the boy with the lottery ticket.

The Treasure of the Sierra Madre really needs no defense, yet here I've blathered on anyway. Masterfully crafted and endlessly enjoyable, it's a near-flawless movie.