The sight of two shadowy figures in a room lit only by the dim glow of a desk lamp and the tips of their cigarettes – there are few images more memorable than this one, to the point where the entire film noir genre has been centred around such ideas (amongst others). The reason we’re mentioning this specific trope is because the current discussion is around a film that perhaps best encapsulates why this image has become so ingrained in the collective consciousness. The Big Sleep is one of the most important films ever made, not necessarily on a technical or narrative level (although it shows considerable prowess in both, particularly in the latter, with the unconventional structure being one of the elements that has allowed it to be so memorable), but rather in how it inspired decades of future artists, being one of the many instances of a work of art inspiring entire movements. It’s not difficult to see the influence the film has had on subsequent generations, with the wealth of homages and parodies to film noir often drawing on some of the iconography of this film in order to situate it within a genre that has changed considerably over years. Helmed by the undeniably gifted Howard Hawks, who is working from a screenplay based on the classic pulp fiction novel of the same title by the legendary Raymond Chandler (whose name is synonymous with the genre, arguably being the most important figure behind this kind of hardboiled detective fiction that has influenced the world of art), and starring two of the most magnetic actors of any generation, it is hardly a surprise that The Big Sleep is considered such an enormous triumph, especially when we consider how this film is far more challenging in execution than it seems. Whether viewing it for the first time or revisiting it, the film remains an unimpeachable masterpiece, both in terms of being an entertaining detective story, and as a piece of invigorating art, one that proves that one doesn’t need to adhere to conventions to create something compelling. 

The Big Sleep is both the quintessential film noir that defines this era of the genre, as well as one that carefully deconstructs it in a way that makes it a slightly more experimental work. Many have noted that this is mostly a noir made by way of a screwball comedy (or vice versa), with many of the elements of a great romantic film being embedded in the story, whether intentionally or not (and it isn’t helped by the fact that this came from a director whose greatest successes included screwball masterpieces like Bringing Up Baby and His Girl Friday, which were similarly centred on the tumultuous interactions between two characters with clear levels of attraction to each other). This has become such a widespread anecdote, there have been serious discussions as to whether Hawks and Chandler were secretly making a comedy, hiding it behind the facade of a very sinister crime narrative. Logically, this is all just tenuous revisionism at best, especially since the film community has a fondness for redefining classic works as more than they are at the surface. While an entertaining idea, it’s not one that we can always read too much into, and distracts from the fact that even at its most simple form, The Big Sleep is an exceptional work. There aren’t too many entries into the film noir genre that feel so contradictory, insofar as this is both a steady collection of many of the most common conventions, but they’re used in a way that makes this an almost experimental work. It wasn’t a pioneering work, but it was also far too early in the genre’s existence for films that actively challenge the broad tenets to be fully consolidated, but yet we see Hawks working closely with Chandler’s text to create something that feels like both a defining work of film noir, and one that actively reworks many of the cliches to its benefit. It leads to a film that can sometimes feel a bit too impenetrable, with the narrative structure being exceptionally convoluted. Yet, the film not only acknowledges this, but also actively embraces it – marketed around exploring the process rather than the results (as any cursory introduction to the film will state), which makes it very clear that every choice is deliberate and meaningful to some broader intention, which may not be clear at the start, but leads to a riveting conclusion.

Certainly, we can attribute the theory that The Big Sleep is covertly a sparkling romantic comedy to the presence of Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall, two of the most iconic performers to ever work in the medium of film, and whose presence here as romantic interests was only made more potent by their well-known off-screen relationship that started with their first collaboration a few years prior, and lasted until Bogart’s death. This is a signature role for both actors, who manage to convincingly play two individuals from different strata of society that are forced into each other’s lives – Phillip Marlowe is a grizzled, working-class detective who simply wants to get the job done, while Vivian is a sultry high-society dame with a penchant for stirring trouble, being entirely ambivalent to the chaos that occurs in the wake of her antics. Few actors have ever had chemistry quite as electric as this duo, whose very presence immediately makes The Big Sleep undeniably brilliant cinema. Hawks knew better than most directors that an entire film could be made from simply placing two great actors in a room together, giving them a strong script and allowing them to take charge in finding the details underpinning each of their characters – and in collaborating with the duo (his second time working with the pair, after To Have and Have Not, which was also the film that spurred their eventual marriage), he knew that the story was in good hands. They surprisingly are separate for the majority of the film (and credit must be given to the large ensemble of smaller supporting roles, with actors like John Ridgely, Dorothy Malone and Elisha Cook Jr. appearing in only a few scenes, but still manage to leave an indelible impression), but when they are on screen, the chemistry is absolutely sensational. It’s arguably the most iconic collaboration between the couple, who may have done excellent work in other films like Key Largo and Dark Passage, but who are certainly mostly defined by these complex characters more than anything else.

One of the more interesting curiosities about The Big Sleep is that there is a certain element that is cited by both devotees and detractors in support of their varying stances on this undeniably divisive film – it is almost entirely incomprehensible. For those who align themselves with more traditional film noir, the almost plotless, meandering story can be a bit of a challenge to get through, and Hawks doesn’t do much to expand or simplify on Chandler’s already inconsistent but fascinating narrative (to the point where the great author was even contacted to provide details on specific events in his novel, and struggled to even find those answers himself). However, the general consensus is that The Big Sleep is a masterpiece, with the resounding belief being that this lack of logic is not a shortcoming, but rather the point entirely. Once again, we go back to the classic quote by Thomas Pynchon, who wrote “why should things be easy to understand?” – and while this was said decades after audiences first encountered the misadventures of the mischievous Phillip Marlowe, it is a good explanation as to how we can begin to understand this story, or rather, the process of accepting that we can’t necessarily understand it. The impenetrable narrative is one that not many filmmakers can effectively explore, with the desire to have something more rational, with relatable characters and a neat resolution, being much more appealing – but had The Big Sleep been a more simple film, it would have lost many of the elements that make it so endearing. History hasn’t fondly remembered this film because of its details, but rather how it used the film noir genre to explore different ideas, influencing many generations of filmmakers that would find themselves drawn to the very peculiar but enticing world Hawks and Chandler create through this convoluted but brilliant plot, or rather what can be gleaned from this series of disjointed but fascinating scenes.

By the time we reach the end of The Big Sleep, we find ourselves in a bit of a daze, emerging from which may be a bit of a problem for those seeking a more simple form of entertainment. Yet, even for those who dislike the film and its incomprehensible structure, the criticisms are much weaker than the praise that is heaped on the film. It’s an unequivocal masterpiece, a daring and provocative entry into the film noir genre, which may not have been incited by this film, but certainly had the course of its development changed by it. Suddenly, a detective story didn’t need to be about finding the answers – there is a resolution by the end, but by the time we reach it, it barely even registers, because the circumstances that surround it, as well as the journey to get there, is far more interesting. This is certainly an auteur-driven film, which is a bit more rare for a genre that often tends to be more focused on being a platform for its stars rather than its directors (meaning that many B-grade filmmakers tend to helm the films) – and the triangulation of a very strong text that may not have been written by Chandler directly, but certainly involved in as a creative consultant of sorts, a cast of well-established and brilliant actors with a remarkable skillfulness, and a director with a precise vision for what he intended to say all lead to an incredibly captivating and thought-provoking film that may take its time reaching a particular point, but at least carries itself with a specific kind of complexity that keeps us engaged and enthralled, which often means much more than in practice than it does in theory, making The Big Sleep an absolutely essential work of both hard-boiled crime fiction, and cinema in general.