Greed does not do a man’s body or soul any good. One of the most potent representations of this very idea comes in the form of The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, John Huston’s ambitious and sprawling adaptation of the novel by B. Traven, which tells the story of three impoverished American men that risk everything they value to venture into the treacherous, bandit-littered mountains of rural Mexico in the hopes of making a fortune through finding gold, combining their expertise, whether it be on prospecting or forthright manipulation of any situation, to find the wealth they so deeply crave, only to realize that their growing dependency on finding this elusive resource has caused them to lose sight of reality. As one of the most enduring classics of its era when it comes to genre-defining works, and inarguably amongst Huston’s most important productions, The Treasure of the Sierra Madre is a staggering achievement in terms of both form and content, proving that his intricate ability to evoke deep meaning from situations that would otherwise be considered relatively straightforward and unremarkable without the special touch that the director brought to nearly all of his films across a career that lasted nearly half a century. It may be debatable as to whether this is his crowning achievement, but there’s very little doubt that at its core, The Treasure of the Sierra Madre is a film that encompasses many of Huston’s most significant qualities, woven together to form this disquieting and wickedly funny satire on the greed of the human race that is equal parts entertaining and deeply harrowing, leading to an exceptionally complex and consistently brilliant work of socially-charged adventure.

The Treasure of the Sierra Madre is certainly a spectacle – it is often categorized along the lines of a western (inarguably carrying many of the same qualities, such as morally-ambigious characters and voyages set in sun-baked locations that harbour deep secrets), but this still seems somewhat too straightforward a term. Prior to this film and a few others that were produced in its proximity, action and adventure films were far more direct in their intentions, and had more predictable structures and more endearing characters – the hero always tended to emerge victorious, and the villains received their comeuppance. This changed around this time, and Huston (instead of heeding any mind to those dissenting voices that said it would be a failure) produced a film that dared to position us amongst a ragtag group of morally-fraught misfits who are willing to sacrifice everything that is considered decent for a brief moment of glory, since they believe in these situations, the only way to win is through taking advantage. This sets the foundation for the entire film, which depends on a very simple story of searching for treasure, and instead of complicating what is already a strong enough narrative, Huston uses the space to carefully ruminate on the nature of these characters, using the original source material as the starting point for a thrilling and engaging adventure that feels both exciting and deceptive, and draws us into its treacherous stranglehold, from which escape is not particularly likely, at least not in terms of the more traditional aspects of these stories, which Huston clearly sought to outright defy with his peculiar version of a genre that was gradually undergoing an enormous reanalysis.

Something that is often neglected when discussing The Treasure of the Sierra Madre is the level of poeticism that persists throughout the film. The technical aspects are astonishing, with the camerawork (which captures the beautiful locations of Mexico, with this being one of the very first major American productions filmed outside of the United States) being striking and adding a level of nuance to a very simple genre. However, Huston’s intentions extended far beyond simply providing us with an enthralling genre film – entertainment was not the primary motive for adapting this novel, since there was a degree of more intricate conversation being provoked by the director. The Treasure of the Sierra Madre is essentially a film about humanity, or rather the outright lack of it. The character of Fred Dobbs is one that has remained fascinating because of his moral complexity – he starts out as a protagonist who is rough around the edges, but instead of becoming more valiant and heroic as he engages with his surroundings, he becomes the villain. The comparisons between this story and the iconic Heart of Darkness are not nearly as tenuous as they would appear – Traven and Huston constructed a character who is an amalgamation of both Marlowe and Kurtz, a man propelled by desperation for wealth, which eventually descends into madness. We see this attention to detail throughout the film, with the inherent villainy of the main character (as well as a few in the periphery, with the exception of a couple of genuinely good individuals scattered throughout), which is drawn out from the most beautiful but disturbing scenarios in which Huston places his characters, and by proxy his audience. We take on the role of passive observers, watching the brutal machinations of these individuals as they scramble for any opportunity to not only gain wealth, but also prevent those around them from experiencing the exact same prosperity, which leads to an absolutely astonishing portrayal of the dark recesses of the human condition, one of Huston’s more frequently engaging themes across his work.

The character development throughout The Treasure of the Sierra Madre is impressive all on its own based on Huston’s incredible penchant for adaptation, particularly his ability to take a work of literature and retain the general spirit, but also add his own flair to it. However, it’s elevated even higher through the actors cast to bring the characters to life. Bogart had worked with Huston in the past, and the pair clearly had a compatibility that brought out the best in them both. There is a considerable amount of debate around Bogart’s best performance, and while the popular consensus is to rally around his more valiant portrayals such as those in Casablanca or The African Queen (the latter another collaboration between Huston and the actor), I’ve always found his more morally-ambigious characters more engaging – and they certainly don’t get more brilliant than in his performance as Dobbs in this film. An everyman who finds himself driven to madness as a result of his greed, there’s very little doubt that Bogart achieved something remarkable with this performance, showing an instance where a major star could play a truly reprehensible character that meets his fate and is never humanized beyond reason. While he does command the film, Bogart shares the screen with two remarkably capable actors, namely Tim Holt and Walter Huston, both of which are excellent. Huston in particular stands out as one of the few examples where nepotism is not only warranted, but actually bolsters the production – casting his own father in the part of the sage and wise older prospector, the director gives him the role of a lifetime, and adds a character to the film that functions as the emotional anchor, the one truly good person we encounter throughout the story, and ultimately the one who emerges from the danger not only unscathed, but at an advantage. The cast of The Treasure of the Sierra Madre is exquisite and brilliant, and Huston’s ability to extract masterful performances from everyone involved is truly extraordinary and warrants just as much celebration as anything else in this film.

Perhaps what has made The Treasure of the Sierra Madre such an enduring work is how it has remained so relevant to the modern world. It may be based on a novel that was itself set nearly a century ago, but there’s a resonance to the story of people being driven to insanity as a result of their grief that strikes a very disturbing chord, especially for those who feel disillusioned by the rise of contemporary capitalism. For a film set in the 1920s and made in the late 1940s, the narrative is surprisingly relatable, especially if we transpose the traits demonstrated by Dobbs onto many prominent public figures that have embodied the most terrifying aspects of the free-market economy, to the point of criminality in many instances. Watching The Treasure of the Sierra Madre is almost like witnessing a preamble to the political and economic unease that has always been the subject of caution when it comes to discussing the direction in which the world is heading – and whether Traven was simply describing the trends he saw occurring around him (which is interesting, considering the novel was written in 1927, two years before the stock market crash and the eventual outset of the Great Depression), or possessed some prophetic vision is entirely open to interpretation. Huston takes on many of these themes and uses them as the foundation for his adaptation, which is just as unsettling and disorienting as the original source material, taking us on a haunting journey into the heart of humanity, demonstrating how corrupt our morals can become in instances where our desire for wealth supersedes our intention to remain virtuous, which is as unsettling a concept as any other more traditionally terrifying conversation.

It is only natural for certain films to feel a lot more acclaimed and beloved than others, which is essentially the entire reason the concept of a “classic” exists in the first place. However, it’s easy to understand precisely why The Treasure of the Sierra Madre constantly tends to be cited as one of the greatest films ever made – mainly because it is almost entirely factual and difficult to disagree with. The filmmaking itself is impeccable, with the attention to detail in both the physical location and the appearance of the characters (Bogart growing more haggard and gaunt as he descends further into madness) make for a suitably entertaining film. However, we’re not drawn to this film based on the promise of adventure, but rather that it claims to contain a sincere amount of scathing commentary on the modern world, which is universally applicable to any scenario, even in the contemporary world. There’s a level of incredible complexity to this film that indicates that it is a work of unhinged genius – the small but impactful portrayal of the chaotic nature of human greed, undercut by the most unexpectedly profound sense of humour and philosophical mastery. From beginning to end, The Treasure of the Sierra Madre is a masterpiece, a detailed but enthralling demonstration of the darker side of existence, and simply a triumph that dares to take a few risks, even at the expense of betraying the conventional aspects of the adventure drama genre, which Huston not only defies, but outright contradicts in his deeply haunting journey into a hostile version of humanity.