Friday, February 6, 2026

Film review: Little Caesar (1931)


This is the film that made the image of Edward G. Robinson that those of us weaned on Bugs Bunny Cartoons know well, 


and where he utters the immortal line "Mother of mercy, is this the end of Rico?" (And is probably the reason it's called RICO.)  Apparently it also entered the public domain on January 1st.  I hope somebody puts out a cleaned-up print of it, because what we watched on the Criterion Channel was not a patch on any of the films of this era and earlier available in the Criterion Collection or on Kino Lorber.

It's pre-code, which didn't mean much in this case except I picked up some serious homoerotic sub-text (our anti-hero, Caesar Enrico Bandello has "no time" for Dames, but is very attached to his buddy Joe (played by the much-taller Douglas Fairbanks Jr., 


who did not really distinguish himself in the role), to the extent that when Joe betrays him, this ruthless killer gets moist-eyed and not only can't bring himself to shoot him, he prevents his stooge from shooting him too.  The plot is pretty formulaic, too - the usual "ascent of the criminal ladder" plot that would be perfected in films like The Roaring Twenties.

We first see Joe and Rico at an all-night diner (getting "Spaghetti and coffee") after having pulled off a heist in the small town that is their stomping ground.  Rico reads a story in the paper about a big-time gangster getting feted and decides he needs to head East to where the action is.  Joe doesn't seem all that keen, and mutters about going back to being a dancer, but Rico informs him he's coming along.

Next, Rico does become a goon for a small-time boss called Sam Vettori 


(who gives Rico his titular nickname, and introduces Rico to his gang, such as Killer Peppi, Scabby, Kid Bean and Bat Korilla), who works for "Diamond" Pete Montana, who in turn works for a shadowy figure called "Big Boy" (no, he doesn't wear checked dungarees and carry burgers aloft).  


Joe does indeed go back to dancing, and, with the help of his new love "Olga," 


gets a job for what seems like the princely sum of $100 a week, dancing at the Bronze Peacock.  Alas, the club is owned by a rival of Sam's (Arnie Lorch) so Rico basically gives Joe no option but to help rob it on New Year's Eve.  To make matters worse, the new crusading (and incorruptible) Crime Commissioner, Alvin McClure was at the club, but was leaving because he found out who owned it (told you he was incorruptible) when Rico guns him down.  This makes Sam super-nervous, which prompts Rico to take over as gang boss, claiming that Sam's lost his nerve.  


(He isn't the only one: the driver, Tony, has a full-on panic attack, freezing at the wheel and then later crashing the car, and when one of the gang meets him walking on the street, he's on the way to talk to his priest.  So Rico has him gunned down on the steps of the church, in a killing that echoes Cagney's death in The Roaring Twenties.  


But he does make sure he gets a lavish funeral parade afterwards).  


Meanwhile McClure's former underling Thomas Flaherty 


(all the cops (and the priest) are Irish, all the gangsters Italian) swears that he's going to get Rico, after Rico survives an assassination attempt by Lorch with just a graze, 


and then drives Lorch out of town as punishment.  Rico's ambition gets him noticed by Big Boy (whose gaudy house dazzles Rico when he visits, a clear sign of his humble origins (as is his discomfort in the "monkey suit" he puts on to make the visit)


because it very much resembles something decorated by Donald Trump), who informs him that he is now to replace Diamond Pete in charge of the Northside territory.

Rico finally gets feted as he wanted, 


although things are soured somewhat when Flaherty visits and reveals that a watch identical to the one Rico has just been presented as a gift by his loyal men has just been snatched from a local Jeweller's.

At this point Rico grows paranoid that Joe will squeal on him and demands that he quit both dancing and Olga and come back to a life of crime.  The distraught Joe tries to get Olga to flee the city with him, but Olga is a cool customer and points out that Rico will track them wherever they go, so it's better to strike first and reveal to Flaherty that it was Rico who killed McClure (following?).  They hole up in the apartment and wait for Flaherty to come over, but the knock on the door turns out to be Rico and his most trigger-happy henchman Otero.  This is when the afore-mentioned tears and the saving-of-Joe happen, before Flahery shows up and the two hoods run for it down the fire escape.  Otero doesn't make it, but Rico does, and first hides out in a hidden room in Ma Magalena's Fruit Store, 


who refuses to be intimidated, and then he "takes to the gutter" to vanish.  We later find him in a flophouse, drinking alcohol (that he had fastidiously refused throughout the whole movie) and growing enraged at the anti-Rico taunts from Flaherty that a fellow bum is reading from the newspaper.  He calls up Flaherty to set up a showdown... and pretty soon this is indeed the end of Rico, 


gunned down behind a sign advertising Joe and Olga.


As I said, pretty corny stuff overall (for example, Tony's death is made all-but inevitable by him going home to visit his loving Ma after the shooting), but Robinson shines.  His voice is inimitable and he has that sheer force of personality that, like Cagney, makes him much larger than his stature.  Two scenes in particular stand out for me, both of which are where the director (Mervyn LeRoy - this is part of a collection of his films on the Criterion Channel) moves in slowly on his face and he conveys volumes without speaking.  This one is where he's paused while telling Joe what he will do in order to answer the phone, only to return to find that Joe has done a runner:


And the other is the tears scene:

proving that raw magnetism can come in stocky, unprepossessing packages.


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