Little Caesar (1931)

My parents enjoy telling me how, when I first emerged wrinkly and screaming into the world, I looked just like Edward G. Robinson.  I like this, and I think it says something about my parents.  I think if more parents were truly honest with themselves, they'd find this was true of their babies too.  Some of us were downright reptilian to start with.

So what I noticed while watching Robinson's performance in Little Caesar, is that the comparison folds neatly back on itself.  For his character, Rico, is a lot like a baby.  The sort of angry, tempestuous baby everyone fears the most.  He always wants more, wants better, wants wants wants.  Gimme gimme gimme.  He has no patience.  He needs to be the center of attention.  Anytime he isn't doing anything else, he's complaining.  Once he achieves power and success, he has an almost adorable uncertainty of what to do with it.  Possibly my favorite scene is when he comes over to the head honcho's pad, and isn't quite sure what to say about all the nice furniture, or what to do with his cigar.  But he watches the Big Boy's actions and tastes, and copies them later on.  Not because he really likes or even understands them - just because that's what he saw a big important person do, so he copies it.  Eventually he navigates their awkward conversation by admiring everything in terms of price.  See, he's not interested in the thing itself, but what it took to get it.  Being successful - actually having things - isn't what he's good at.  What he's good at is wanting things.  Taking.  Grabbing.  And snarling until he gets his way.  As a baby he was the kind of kid who couldn't just play with the toy he was holding.  He had to play with whatever toy somebody else was holding.  And God forbid you don't want to play whatever game he wants to play, or he'll gun you down on the cathedral steps.

Little Caesar (1931)

Have any of you ever wondered what English must sound like to non-English speakers?  Well, I have.  Growing up speaking nothing but English I have never had any problems understanding spoken English.  I'd listen to other languages and think how interesting and completely different they sound, because I don't understand any of their words.  I knew on a logical level that these same people must feel the same about English when they hear it, but I could never imagine what it might actually sound like to them.

Now I can.

"Little Caesar" is the first full talkie we've seen, and it was so difficult to understand that I had to turn the subtitles on about five minutes into it just to keep up.  This is not only due to the completely different slang of the 30's, but to the incredible speed these actors spoke at combined with their nasal gangster accents.  There were literally times in the movie where they spoke so fast and so unintelligibly that I felt like I was watching a movie in a foreign language.  What a trippy feeling that was.