It was very strange watching "Satan Met a Lady" immediately after watching the 1931 "Maltese Falcon". It is very clear that Warner Bros. was trying to remake their popular version of "Falcon" to cash in on the popularity of MGM's "The Thin Man". The tone of "Falcon" has been lightened to approach comedy, while the portrayal of Spade (aka Shane in "Satan") was suaved up to try to conjure up William Powell.
Unfortunately, the attempt fails despite the star power of Warren William and Bette Davis. William looks like he's trying very hard but his lines just don't carry enough comedy to pull it off. Bette Davis has many good moments but doesn't quite demonstrate the intelligent conniver her character is supposed to be. Only Alison Skipworth (as Madame Barrabas, the film's designate for Caspar Gutman) shows any real feeling for the character. Arthur Treacher doesn't seem at all like a character that would be involved in theft and murder, while Porter Hall as Ames (also the infamous company psychologist in Miracle on 34th Street) seems more like an accountant than a private detective.
Part of the problem is the frenetic pace. The lines come so fast they almost step on each other. The pace doesn't allow anything to sink in before we're on to another scene. Another problem is the Hayes code crackdown, which means the film can't reproduce the boozy sexiness of "Thin Man" nor the explicitness of the earlier "Falcon". Hence it just falls flat.
Unfortunately, the attempt fails despite the star power of Warren William and Bette Davis. William looks like he's trying very hard but his lines just don't carry enough comedy to pull it off. Bette Davis has many good moments but doesn't quite demonstrate the intelligent conniver her character is supposed to be. Only Alison Skipworth (as Madame Barrabas, the film's designate for Caspar Gutman) shows any real feeling for the character. Arthur Treacher doesn't seem at all like a character that would be involved in theft and murder, while Porter Hall as Ames (also the infamous company psychologist in Miracle on 34th Street) seems more like an accountant than a private detective.
Part of the problem is the frenetic pace. The lines come so fast they almost step on each other. The pace doesn't allow anything to sink in before we're on to another scene. Another problem is the Hayes code crackdown, which means the film can't reproduce the boozy sexiness of "Thin Man" nor the explicitness of the earlier "Falcon". Hence it just falls flat.