Movie: Little Ceasar (1931)

Not too long ago, I finally saw The Public Enemy, Jimmy Cagney’s most famous gangster role.  Now I finally caught up with what is essentially the equivalent of that for Edward G. Robinson, 1931’s Little Ceasar.  I know it isn’t fair to compare those films, but I preferred the Cagney picture over this one.

The fault doesn’t lie with Robinson.  It is exciting watching him in the role that resulted in the stereotype people inevitably have in mind when they think about the actor.  Picture Bugs Bunny’s impersonation of Robinson: lower lip out and puffy eyes squinting.

I think the problem for me is how simple and straight-forward the whole affair is, as opposed to the complexities found in the Cagney movie.  Basically, Robinson’s Rico Bandello starts out doing small robberies (gas stations and the like) with pal Douglas Fairbanks Jr., while aspiring to head a large operation in the big city.  He does so in seemingly short time.  Eventually, his inevitable fall and death is the result of his hubris.

Though the plot takes a very predictable path, that doesn’t mean it is boring.  Robinson brings a malicious glee to the role.  It is an interesting portrayal of somebody who has the endless drive for more power while apparently unable to enjoy any of the spoils of it.  His biggest fear seems to be letting his guard down, so he never indulges in liquor.

Something that is a bit suspect is he also never enjoys the company of women.  This seems to put his friendship with Fairbanks in a different light, especially the disdain with which he regards his friend’s fiancée.  And here I thought Fairbanks might be the more queer-leaning of the two, as he left the gang to be…a dancer?!  But Robinson isn’t about to let his pal walk out, and forces him to be part of the heist on the club where Fairbanks dances: “You’re gonna be in on this and you’re gonna like it.”

The nightclub heist is interesting.  There are lots of quick shots, all of which crossfade into each other.  That had to be quite a challenge to editors of the time.  I’m confused as how the movie has so many edits as it is, since it was shot in Vitaphone. 

That process, most renowned for its use in The Jazz Singer, recorded sound directly to disc.  As far as I am aware, there wasn’t any sound editing as we know it until the advent of audio tape, but I won’t pretend to be an expert on the history of that technology.  I just know I enjoyed wondering how they did this.

As this is a pre-code film, there is a surprising amount of violence.  One exceptionally well-done scene has machine gun fire from a milk truck perforate a shop window before landing a bullet in Robinson’s arm.  I thought it was the clever how the end of the gun goes through one of the eyes of the cartoon bull on the side of the truck.  On the other hand, I find it terrifying the milk company possibly thinks its products come from bulls.  Probably best to avoid dairy products from them.

There are some oddly human moments in this picture.  I especially liked a food fight that breaks out at a gangster banquet.  I guess thugs are just children at heart—big, murderous children.  It seemed surreal they would even have a banquet.  Does the mob still do this nowadays and have they modernized to have Power Point presentations?  Then there’s the poor guy who freaks out while trying to ditch a getaway car after a heist and crashes it into a telephone poll.  The look on this guy’s face when he realizes he has committed an unpardonable screw-up is gut-wrenching.

Little Ceasar is a cornerstone of the gangster genre, even if I felt it pales in comparison to The Public Enemy.  Robinson is in top form here and it is fascinating to see a legend being created.

Dir: Mervyn LeRoy

Starring Edward G. Robinson, Douglas Fairbanks, Jr.

Watched on blu-ray