He was the man with the famous hangdog face, the New York-born leader of the original Rat Pack who famously played dogged detectives, lowlife hoods, and hard men torn between temptation and fate.
Humphrey Bogart, the man affectionately known to his closest friends and associates as Bogie, has earned his place in the pantheon as one of the most expressive and uniquely American leading men in the history of cinema. His was a star power like no other, and the man’s far-ranging filmography is filled with simply stunning films that reflect the astonishing depth and variety of his formidable talent.
Without further delay, here is a list of eleven of our favorite Humphrey Bogart performances. Enjoy!
Paul Fabrini in They Drive By Night (1940)
The more obscure of Raoul Walsh’s collaborations with Bogart, They Drive By Night is pure, lean 40’s pulp: a whittled-down, diamond-sharp tale of two fraternal truckers who become ensnared in a deadly plot that involves B-movie goddess Ida Lupino (who famously acted alongside Bogart in Walsh’s High Sierra, which is also on this list). Bogart isn’t quite a bonafide lead in They Drive By Night, but he still manages to steal most of the scenes that he’s in while fully leaning into his grizzled, now-inimitable screen persona.
Linus Larrabee in Sabrina (1954)
Billy Wilder’s Sabrina is a slept-on jewel that doesn’t get quite as much love as more well-known works like Sunset Boulevard or Some Like It Hot. Nevertheless, this one’s a treasure in the filmography of one of the great movie directors of all time. Bogart acquits himself marvelously to Wilder’s screwball stylings in this charming 1954 rom-com, in which he shares the screen with William Holden, playing one half of two brothers who are romantically mixed up with the beautiful daughter of the family chauffer (a radiant Audrey Hepburn).
Harry Morgan in To Have and Have Not (1944)
To Have And Have Not – directed by Golden-Era Hollywood giant Howard Hawks (Rio Bravo, Red River, Bringing Up Baby, His Girl Friday) – is a testament to the maxim “they don’t make ‘em like they used to.” A sensuous, ravishing, sensationally entertaining wartime romance that’s directed to within an inch of its life, Hawks’ classic succeeds in no small part due to the smoldering, combustible chemistry between Bogie and one of his great on-screen partners, the one-of-a-kind Lauren Bacall.
Roy “Mad Dog” Earle in High Sierra (1941)
Bogart leans fully into his penchant for the cynical with this fatalistic California mountain noir, directed by Raoul Walsh and co-written by John Huston, who would go on to cast Bogart in directorial offerings like The Maltese Falcon, Key Largo, Beat The Devil, and The African Queen. As ruthless crook Roy “Mad Dog” Earle, Bogart believably channels the spirit of a true-blue sociopath. The result is a character arc that is all the more doomed for how tragically inevitable it feels in hindsight.
Charlie Allnut in The African Queen (1951)
Charlie Allnut, the salty, seen-it-all mechanic who acts as the de facto captain of the steamboat vessel The African Queen, is nothing less than one of Bogart’s more purely memorable screen creations. The actor is as warm and lovable as he’s ever been here – somehow, without managing to soften his character’s cranky, abrasive edges – and in Katherine Hepburn, playing a witty, if stuck-up society gal who warms up to this handsome codger, he finds one of his most inspired screen partners.
Rick Blaine in Casablanca (1942)
Sure, saying that your favorite Humphrey Bogart performance isn’t the one he gives in Casablanca – considered by most, if not all serious film scholars and cinephiles to be one of the great American films of all time – is a little like saying your favorite Rolling Stones record isn’t Exile On Main Street. Nightclub owner and American expatriate Rick Blaine is nothing less than one of the most widely recognized movie characters of all time, and the manner in which Bogart manages to transform the character into a believably flawed antihero is nothing short of stunning.
Glenn in The Desperate Hours (1955)
Bogart has never been more terrifying than he is in William Wyler’s scathing, unusually disturbing home-invasion thriller The Desperate Hours, where he is downright animalistic as the leader of a trio of three scumbags who force themselves into a suburban family’s home and proceed to hold them hostage. The depths of sadism and suffering on display in The Desperate Hours are truly impressive, especially for the period; the film has proven to be so influential that Steven Soderbergh essentially re-made it as last year’s star-studded caper, No Sudden Move.
Philip Marlowe in The Big Sleep (1946)
“I don’t mind if you don’t like my manners. They’re pretty bad. I grieve over them during the long winter evenings.” So goes a line from Raymond Chandler’s seminal Southland noir “The Big Sleep,” but as adapted by screenwriters William Faulkner, Leigh Brackett, and Jules Furthman, who else but the great Bogart could deliver such an immortal hard-boiled aphorism with such a straight face? To put it plainly: Bogie’s take on Philip Marlowe is nothing less than the definitive screen interpretation to date of Chandler’s signature gumshoe.
Vincent Parry in Dark Passage (1947)
Much of the first half of Delmer Daves’ searing, underrated man-on-the-run noir is told from the perspective of Bogart’s tortured prison escapee: it’s a radical feat of pure filmmaking technique that still feels unconventional, even more than a half a century after the film’s release. Bogart’s face isn’t even fully revealed until after the film’s first hour is up, but he still manages to create an utterly undeniable character purely through his trademark, sozzled-sounding line readings and fearsome physical presence.
Sam Spade in The Maltese Falcon (1941)
There is something icy and pitiless about The Maltese Falcon that makes it one of the meaner film noirs in the history of the genre. That’s because when Bogart and John Huston – drinking pals who clearly shared a taste for dark and unsavory material – got together, all bets were off. Owning yet another iconic detective role (this time, it’s Dashiell Hammett’s Sam Spade), Bogart is a haunted, nearly spectral presence in The Maltese Falcon, where he expertly shares scenes with co-stars Mary Astor, Sydney Greenstreet, and a deeply menacing Peter Lorre.
Dixon Steele in In a Lonely Place (1950)
Nicholas Ray’s timeless In a Lonely Place is one of the essential American movies about the solitude of the scribe’s life, and the depths to which some writers see it fit to destroy their own happiness just so they have something to scribble about. Bogart has rarely seemed as vulnerable or emotionally wounded as he does playing melancholy screenwriter Dix Steele, whose volatile mood swings over his lack of industry success infect his romance with a mercurial starlet brilliantly played by Gloria Grahame. Truly, this is one belongs in the canon – and the same goes for Bogart’s performance.
