dougdoepke First National must have spent all of ten bucks on the production. The sets are spare, the "streets" ghostly, while the gloom hangs heavy. Looks like the main expense was the nightclub scene that really comes alive with crowds and lighting. Good thing there's Robinson, otherwise the film would be thoroughly forgettable. As the snarling Rico, he delivers tough guy in spades, while climbing the ladder of criminal success. Actually, the violence totals much less than you might expect. Mostly it's gangsters dropping in on each other to size up the competition.Okay, the biggest reviewer issue seems to be whether Rico is gay or not. Mark me down in the affirmative. As others point out, there're simply too many hints to ignore. Besides it makes his tough guy all the more interesting, especially when he would jeopardize his criminal empire by making the decidedly non-tough Joe (Fairbanks) his "trusted" companion.Anyway, the movie creaks with age, has a ton of sometimes silly dialog, plus too much wooden acting (e.g. Fairbanks), but still showcases a central performance that remains a classic of its kind.

tieman64 Warner Brothers released a slew of gangster movies in the early 1930s, films like "The Public Enemy", "Little Caesar", "Scarface" and "White Heat" laying down the template for virtually every gangster picture that followed.Born in an age of urban poverty, overcrowding, and disease, these flicks immediately proved popular with audiences. More importantly, they were fairly cheap to produce, requiring relatively simple sets and small casts. And whilst the makers of modern gangster flicks routinely spend millions recreating period details and elaborate cityscapes, these early film-makers simply stuck a camera outside and filmed the naked streets. Indeed, some of the biggest pleasures of these early gangster films can be found in their simple establishing shots, which allow us to eavesdrop upon 1930s traffic jams, shops, pedestrians and cities. These establishing shots, banal capsules hanging free from their respective stories, offer a nice contrast to the more romanticised period details of modern gangster movies. Compare, for example, how nostalgic Leone and Coppola's street scenes feel in "Once Upon A Time In America" and "Godfather 2".What's most striking, though, is how little the gangster genre has changed over the years. Thematically the genre has charted no new territory. There's nothing in "Goodfellas", "Public Enemies", "Once Upon A Time In America" or "American Gangster", for instance, that you can't find in any of these early Warner Brothers features. The differences are only cosmetic: more swearing, more violence, more blood, faster editing, more nudity etc. Though the genre has evolved aesthetically, technology progressing and attitudes toward sex and violence relaxing, it still conforms to old narratives, content to reinforce the existing order of things.Juxtaposing modern gangster films with early WB machine gun operas, one is also immediately confronted with how superficial the typical "rise and fall" gangster narrative is; young kids or hoodlums join a gang, rise through the ranks, become powerful and then lose all their power or violently die. This has the double effect of both highlighting the infectious allure of criminality, whilst also pointing out that those who partake are ultimately doomed. A film like "Goodfellas" is itself peppered with nothing but scenes hijacked from these early films, albeit jazzed up with frenetic editing and countless rock and roll tunes. Indeed, the message of "Goodfellas" is itself the falsity of "Goodfellas"; a kind of postmodern renunciation of truth.But what's more interesting is the way all these gangster movies make a connection between the success of the criminal and the success of the businessman. This romanticism continued throughout the 60s and 70s, with gangster flicks like "Bonnie and Clyde" and "The Godfather Saga", all films in which the criminal becomes representative of a very capitalist ideal.The result is that, far from being stories about anti-establishment heroes bucking the system, gangster movies began to reveal themselves as being quaintly conformist. Rather than subversively undermining it, Hollywood's gangsters are in gleeful acceptance of the status quo, these films stressing that gangsters are no different from the corporate criminals whom they rob. Criminals, in other words, are merely engaging in an alternative method of business. Don Corleone, Henry Hill, Noodles, Tony Montana, Bonnie and Clyde, like any business, ultimately all want money. And why do they want money? Simply to better enjoy life.During this period, a few iconoclastic directors - Godard, Fassbinder, Kubrick, Altman - played against convention. Altman's "Thieves Like Us", for example, is explicitly about the dreary conformity of the gangster; like any ordinary homemaker, they simply want enough cash to refit their kitchens and pay off their mortgages. Also offbeat was Kubrick "Clockwork Orange", a film which never gets branded a gangster flick (it's hero was modelled after gangster regular James Cagney). Here, a criminal called Alex and his gang of droogs exist almost entirely outside of capitalist logic, committing crimes for no financial purpose. They rape, pillage and destroy, but have no desire to accumulate. Oddly, Alex's gang only falls apart when his droogs get greedy and desire to rob a woman purely for financial gain. They later become police officers.But such films are oddities. When "The Godfather" was released it forever cemented the romantic comparison between the gangster and the American businessman. In these films, organised crime is rendered as nothing more than another family business, subject to profit and loss, risk and calculation, promotion and firing. "Goodfellas" continues this point of view, but brings the business down to the blue-collar day-to-day workings of the organisation. Scorsese's gangsters are workers whilst Coppola's are the owners, but both viewpoints serve to covertly appeal to megalomania and power. Compare with Brian De Palma's brilliantly nutty "Scarface", which turns power and accumulation into something pathetic. There, all gangsters are castrated, impotent goofs, each bent on fulfilling what is really an unquenchable, existential Lack (be it with penises, money or machine guns). The crime movies of Altman and Fassbinder are even more subversive.Today, free from the Hays Code, modern day gangsters now also have the luxury of much happier endings. Directors are no longer obliged to tack on a "crime doesn't pay" ending, and so we have Brando dying gracefully of old age, DeNiro waxing nostalgic for the golden days and Henry Hill getting to live in the suburbs rather than die. These films are all brutally nostalgic, mourning the loss of a time when anti heroes regularly bucked the system, perhaps because we secretly want to ourselves.8/10 – Each new corporate scandal further dissolves the lines of separation between criminals and big business, both groups, be they owners, middle management or lower level employees, ultimately in ruthless pursuit of the same thing: the acquisition of wealth and the accumulation of toys.

ElMaruecan82 In 1930, Prohibition was still depriving the lives of American citizens from one of their most beloved leisure: drinking. At the same time, Hollywood started to make talking movies, as to satisfy the thirst for a new kind of entertainment. While technology is more responsible for the talkies' success, is it really a coincidence that the most preeminent genre of the 30's was the gangster film, that the first sounds people would hear in theaters would be horns, screeching tires, firing machine guns, screaming women, and gunshots, or that the most memorable bits of dialogs would speak thought- provoking statements about American ideals? "Little Caesar" is a landmark that can't be analyzed outside its historical context: the climax of both the Prohibition and the criminal violence it generated. The Volstead Act was responsible for the rise of emblematic gangster figures such as Lucky Luciano, Meyer Lansky, and naturally: Al Capone, probably the only criminal to become a cultural icon, an ambiguity that is the very essence of the anti-heroic figure. And when you think of it, from Michael Corleone to Tony Montana, the most memorable movie gangsters have never been totally evil, amoral or spiritless. And all these underworld's icons owe something to Edward G. Robinson's performance as "Little Caesar", an Italian-American criminal who wants his share of the American Dream, and wants it badly. Little, as the title suggests, the character is remembered for his short stature and a "cat-fish mug" according to IMDb, while I perceive more more of a baby face, especially in the unforgettable close-up in the scene when he confronts his friend, Joe Massara, played by Douglas Fairbanks Jr. Anyway, as ingrate as his appearance is, Little Caesar embodies the syndrome of another famous emperor, Napoleon, the little guy who wants to conquer the world, which makes his Italian background more significantIndeed, whether Italian in Coppola and Scorsese's epic crime films, Cuban in "Scarface" or Jewish in "Once Upon a Time in America", there has always been a strong dichotomy implied between the growth of a new demographic category: young, male, eager to grow and to live the American dream and the subsequent rise of criminal activities. Little Caesar totally embodies the most pervert side of the American Dream, as if the status of emigrants was a sordid alibi for their ruthless ambition, as if America was a virgin land waiting for newcomers to make up for their lost years, when the WASP took all the legal areas, well, quoting Tony Montana's anatomical metaphor about Miami would be eloquent enough.And as a foreigner, Little Caesar knew all the tricks of the American Dream and lived his life as if he was trapped in a jungle and moved by a sort of survival instinct where the fittest is the one who gets bigger than the enemy and kills him. Maybe "Little Caesar" reveals the Darwinian impulses of criminal, surviving in an environment that maintains the 'good' citizens in a state of slavery while only the outlaws can free themselves, by being strong, tough and not undergo the unfair decisions from the Law, starting from the Prohibition itself. Rico's defying attitude is the driver of his status as a hero from the wrong side, hence his place as one of the first cinematic antiheroes.And we take him seriously because he doesn't enjoy himself; he's never gratuitously sadistic or violent. Forget about women and booze, cigar is his only weakness. And since cinema is more an art of imagery than ideas, the cigar became a synonym of toughness, leadership and Alpha-male charisma, which is also at the same time the very symbol of the capitalistic figure. The power of Robinson's performance is to supposedly base a performance on a figure like Al Capone, with whom he share similar facial features, yet still carry some respectability of its own, and become a landmark in terms of influential performances, only equaled by James Cagney in "The Public Enemy", who plays a totally different character.There's even more to say about Robinson's performance which is more three-dimensional than most of today's criminal portrayals, his attitude towards his friend's romance betrayed a more ambiguous personality, slightly hinted by the interactions with his effeminate sidekick. But what the 'seemingly' homosexual undertones show is a man so diluted in his own ego he wouldn't let himself distracted by a relationship, a man who tries so much to play it tough that he can't hide the fact that he can become as soft as his enemies were, and it's the film's pivotal moments of the film, when he realizes he can't kill his friend, to which the sidekick retorts by calling him "soft": the Emperor started slipping. Like Tony Montana in "Scarface", Little Caesar's weakness is his heart and his demise is as immediate as his rise was swift. And as a man who succeeded by the ego, he'd perish by it, by calling him a coward, the Irish Detective Flaherty brought him back from the slums to the spotlights, for the ultimate confrontation. And I'm sure that for the first time, viewers rooted for the villain and not just because the better actor played him. Through the unforgettable "Mother of mercy, is this the end of Rico?", we can feel that Rico had such a high opinion of himself, he couldn't even believe he would die, and that's what his eyes betray: disbelief. That's what most gangsters are: big egos, we admire first and feel sorry for at the end. And the end of Rico coincided with the birth of the antihero, and if by many aspects, the film has dated a little bit, some parts are grainier than others, and many performances, including the histrionic cop leave a lot to desire, there's no doubt that "Little Caesar" carried by a bravura performance from Edward G. Robinson, planted the first seeds of the gangster film … see?

freemantle_uk Little Caesar is an archetypal gangster film from the early 1930s, a early example and it offered a breakout performance for Edward G. Robinson whom distinctive voice has been copied for Chief Wiggam in The Simpsons.Rico (Robinson) and his friend Joe Massara (Douglas Fairbanks, Jr.) are two small town hoods who move to the big city to make a name for themselves in the criminal underworld. Rico quickly raises up the ranks, earning the nickname "Little Caesar" and shows a skill for planning heists. Rico overthrows his boss Sam Vettori (Stanley Fields) and becomes one of the leading gangsters in the city. But of course with notoriety he becomes a target of other gangsters and the police, led by Sergeant Flaherty (Thomas E. Jackson), as well as alienated his old friend. g The best aspect of Little Caesar was Robinson, a very talented actor who was able to give his role real menace, someone who is willing to be very ruthless, willing to use violence and has a Machiavellian personality who will do anything to gain power. He is smart but has an ego which is his downfall. Robinson embodied his character, a rags to riches to rags story out a small time thug making it big. It is very much like Scarface in story.Director Mervyn LeRoy was able to some nice camera movements, particularly for the time where the camera was often stasis. He also made a very quick film, it is only 76 minutes and the pacing lightening fast. If anything the film was a little too quick, we do not get to establish how some events happen, like Rico and Joe just going to he big city, easily meet a gangster and then overthrow himself in the first 30 minutes. I would have like to have seen a little more background, a little more detail, like what where these two people like in the small town, what was this small time like, wouldn't they need to prove themselves to a major gangster to show they were worthy and committed to the crew before joining it, what was the internal politics of the crew and that wouldn't there be more of a challenge to Rico becoming the leader seeing he was a nobody a few months ago. LeRoy also uses some text screens to skip over long periods of time instead of showing up. But Little Caesar does everything it wants to put across in its short running time very well and I expect that it was made as a part of a double feature.Whilst Robinson was very good in his role, it was the role that made his career, the rest of the acting is typical of the early 30s, over-the-top with the delivery, very melodramatic and speaking in that 1930s hard boiled way. Still it was the standard of the time and I have seen a lot worst acting in films.Little Caesar is a good film, but it is not a gangster film that we know now. This film is a more a character study and a story how someone could rise to top just so they could fall even further. It is a solid piece of film making for the time.