Richard Tanne

Some of the best films of all time were made during Hollywood’s golden age—the 1930s-1940s. Directors like Howard Hawks, George Cukor, Frank Capra, and John Ford and stars like Clark Gable, Lionel Barrymore, Joan Crawford, and Judy Garland were contracted by the studios to make multiple movies a year. Because Hollywood was making so many movies, some of them turned out to be real gems. 1939 alone saw the release of The Wizard of Oz, Gone with the Wind, Stagecoach, and Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. 

Among the many great directors pumping out films in the 30s and 40s was Budapest-born, Michael Curtiz. Before he arrived in the United States he had already directed more than 50 films in Europe. Jack Warner, of Warner Brothers, brought him over and the two forged a working relationship that lead to some of the greatest movies ever made. Among Curtiz’ American films is arguably the great romance ever made—Casablanca—arguably the greatest musical ever made—Yankee Doodle Dandy—arguably the greatest gangster movie ever made—Angels with Dirty Faces—arguably the greatest adventure movie ever made—The Adventures of Robin Hood—one of the great historical dramas ever made—The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex—one of the great horror movies ever made—The Mystery of the Wax Museum—one of the great sea movies—Captain Blood—and also one of the great Christmas movies ever made—White Christmas.

Helming Casablanca alone (a perfect movie) should have been enough to reserve him a special place in any serious discussion about classic Hollywood directors, but Curtiz’ name is barely ever mentioned. From the 30s-50s he directed over 100 movies in America, so the titles listed above are only scratching the surface. As I continue to slowly but surely make my way through his filmography, I’m bracing myself for a few more duds—like his 1952 remake of The Jazz Singer—a few more “just average” flicks—like the 1945 adaptation of Mildred Pierce—and also a few more hidden classics—like the goofy 1955 screwball comedy We’re No Angels, featuring the unlikely comic talents of Humphrey Bogart! 

Maybe only Hawks and Wilder were able to switch genres with as much frequency and success as Michael Curtiz—but that’s some pretty sacred company to keep. I salute him and his work.