Humphrey Bogart: The Everyman Persona and
Its Overlooked Impact on Both His Career and Legacy
A Thesis Submitted to the Faculty of the Cinema Studies Department
In Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the
Degree of Master of Arts in Cinema Studies
at
Savannah College of Art and Design
William Anthony
Savannah, GA
© March 2015
Dr. Chad Newsom, Committee Chair
Dr. Tracy Cox-Stanton, Committee Member
Dr. Beth Concepción, Committee Member
Dedication
I dedicate this essay to my wonderful grandmother, Marline “Granny” Popwell.
I learned so much about the history, philosophy, and aesthetics of cinema when I think about all
the films that we watched together. She will always be the coolest cinephile, the biggest Martin
Scorsese/Robert De Niro/Leonardo DiCaprio fan, and the most caring friend that I ever knew.
I also dedicate my thesis to my family and friends, who have been supportive of my love for
movies. Specifically, I also express complete gratitude to Carlyn Greene, Kathy Hoskins, and
Henry Waller for their support and interest during the entire process of writing my master’s
thesis.
Acknowledgements
I want to thank Dr. Chad Newsom, Dr. Tracy Cox-Stanton, and Dr. Beth Concepción for their
mentorship, patience, and time as I wrote and revised my master’s thesis. I could not have
completed this thesis without their passion and knowledge of Cinema Studies. Their guidance
has changed the way that I learn.
Table of Contents
Abstract………………………………………………………………………………………........1
Epigraph…………………………………………………………………………………………..2
I. Introduction……………………………………………………………………………………..3
II. Biography……………………………………………………………………………………...5
III. Literature Review…………………………………………………………………………….7
IV. Hollywood Trade Magazines………………………………………………………………..13
V. Key Films…………………………………………………………………………………….22
VI. Legacy……………………………………………………………………………………….27
VII. Conclusion………………………………………………………………………………….34
Bibliography……………………………………………………………………………………..37
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Humphrey Bogart: The Everyman Persona and
Its Overlooked Impact on Both His Career and Legacy
William Anthony
March 2015
Humphrey Bogart is one of the definitive American actors, especially during the Golden Age of
Hollywood. However, his everyman persona defines more of his public image than Hollywood
trade magazines and his signature films acknowledge. His down-to-earth attitude about fame
reveals why his ordinariness as a leading actor prevailed over time. Thus, Bogart’s everyman
persona appeals more to audiences during and after the Golden Age of Hollywood instead of the
tough guy image developed from his most well-known movies. I will use Hollywood trade
magazines and close readings of High Sierra, In a Lonely Place, Breathless and Play It Again,
Sam to support why the everyman persona is synonymous with Bogart’s legacy. Keywords: Everyman Persona, Onscreen Image, Hollywood Trade Magazines, Golden Age of
Hollywood, Popular Appeal, Down-to-Earth Attitude, Posthumous Legacy
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“The youngest strokes in the portrait of St. Bogart are those which paint him as a ‘loner,’ a man
of ‘self-determination’ who makes ‘all his own decisions’ with regard for nothing beyond
immediate satisfaction. Such a description might do for a fourth century St. Anthony of the
Egyptian desert, but never for a twentieth century film star in Hollywood.”
-Louise Brooks, “Humphrey & Bogey.” Sight and Sound 36.1
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I. Introduction
The Golden Age of Hollywood established some of the most iconic American stars,
ranging from Katherine Hepburn to John Wayne. These celebrities established legacies because
their personalities and acting styles appealed to many generations. Some actors became typecast
into playing specific characters, such as ruthless villains or moral heroes. Humphrey Bogart,
however, was the actor who could play either the champion or the scoundrel, but his legacy
actually stems from his unique appeal to the public. He displayed the natural ability to portray
any archetype as a relatable, ordinary guy, which is a signature distinction for his onscreen
image. His stoic mannerisms and rugged appearance distinguished his onscreen persona.
Dashing looks or a charming personality defined many actors during the Golden Age of
Hollywood, but Humphrey Bogart contrasted with this ideal by maintaining an ordinary image
that carried a unique appeal in the midst of Hollywood glamour.
The relatability of his personality contributed to his immense fame more than audiences
may perceive. His commemoration in Looney Tunes episodes and songs by Little Feat and Roxy
Music attest to his wide-ranging fame. Thus, his image has remained strong and memorable
through a legacy that has only been strengthened after his death. Some celebrities such as James
Dean and Marilyn Monroe, who are also famous for their deaths, maintain relevance today
because their sex appeal still captivates American audiences. However, Bogart defied the typical
Hollywood expectations of a star, and he actually embraced his ordinariness. Multiple audiences
have appreciated that aspect of his career. The star “has lived on in dorm-room posters,
retrospective revivals, pop-culture references and, of course, in the work of imitators and
parodists” (Lim 1). Humphrey Bogart’s everyman persona made his public image and
posthumous legacy significantly more relatable, but it has often been overlooked, as some
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Hollywood trade magazines and some of his films did not always capitalize on his down-to-earth
personality.
Bogart’s everyman persona is evident in three areas: Hollywood trade magazines, two
key films, and a notable filmic and critical legacy. This image also existed in media portrayals
such as movie posters and reviews. Bogart’s relationship with Lauren Bacall also showcased his
ordinary life and personality. In contrast to the larger than life public expectations of Hollywood
celebrities, Bogart appeared ordinary because he was neither the most attractive person nor the
best actor from his generation. These personal limits worked to his advantage, and his simplicity
set him apart as the quintessential everyman. Bogart lacked the youthful charisma and
ostentatiousness that characterized other celebrities such as Cary Grant and Clark Gable.
Furthermore, his stoicism and slurred accent made him a convincing villain, but his everyman
persona kept him from being typecast as the bad guy. Similarly, his self-confidence allowed him
to play convincing romantic leads, in which the characters were uniquely ordinary and relatable
because of Bogart’s haggard appearance. The actor’s down-to-earth personality also appears in
his more overlooked characters such as the infamous gangster Roy Earle in High Sierra and the
tortured scriptwriter Dixon Steele in In a Lonely Place. His stardom flourished because he could
incorporate his distinct personality into these various characters. Thus, the everyman persona
defined his onscreen image.
Hollywood trade publications in the 1930s, 1940s, and 1950s helped create Humphrey
Bogart’s star persona, but his real-life down-to-earth personality was not always reflected in his
publicity. In the early years of his career, magazines portrayed Bogart as tough and romantic, but
not average. Once he started a relationship with Lauren Bacall, however, magazines such as
Motion Picture Daily, Photoplay and Screenland responded by focusing more on Bogart’s
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personal, domestic life, broadcasting it to the public. This image was present throughout his
career and persisted after his death, impacting succeeding generations of actors. Films such as
Breathless and Play It Again, Sam celebrate the ordinary side of Bogart rather instead of his
tough-guy persona. These films even challenge his popularity by exploring how Bogart abided
by his true personality in a different story compared to Casablanca or The African Queen.
A couple of films during Bogart’s career highlight how much the everyman persona
defined his characters. Both High Sierra (1941) and In a Lonely Place (1950) paid close
attention to how his characters strive for an ordinary life. High Sierra shows a more human side
of the villainous character Roy Earle. More importantly, it contradicts Bogart’s earlier films that
attempted to typecast him as the tough gangster. Later in his career, In a Lonely Place
demonstrates how fame ruins Bogart’s character, Dixon Steele, when he tries to live against
Hollywood’s restraints. His everyman persona resonates through his character’s dissatisfaction
with being a celebrity.
Finally, Humphrey Bogart’s everyman persona continues even after his death through his
legacy. Films released after Bogart’s death, such as Breathless (1960) and Play It Again, Sam
(1972), reflect Bogart’s ongoing appeal, demonstrating that his everyman persona is a definitive
part of his legacy. In addition to films, the writings of scholars such as Fredrick Elkin, Greg
Weiss, Richard Dyer, Edward Berkowitz, Stefan Kanfer, and André Bazin discuss Bogart’s
distinct image that celebrated his everyman persona, which is a reputation that persists to this
day.
II. Biography
Humphrey Bogart was born into a wealthy family in New York on Christmas Day 1899
(Thomson 2). He attended the elite Phillips Academy, where he was eventually expelled for poor
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academic performance (Berkowitz 84). Bogart joined the Navy in 1918, after which he decided
to attempt a career in theater. Bogart struggled with tasks such as scriptwriting and directing, but
starred in several Broadway plays throughout the 1920s and the 1930s, a few of which were
adapted into movies due to their popularity. Although he was becoming more prominent, Bogart
strived to become a leading man. He still focused on roles in Broadway plays, even as sales
decreased during the Great Depression. Eventually, Bogart caught the attention of Arthur
Hopkins, who noticed his stoic personality. While discussing Hopkins’ opinion of Bogart,
Kanfer mentions, “He had been impressed with Humphrey’s performance as the villain of
Invitation to a Murder. His silences seemed more impressive than his speeches; when he was
quiet, said Hopkins, ‘time seemed to stand still.’… Humphrey was wearing his personal
tribulations on his face” (34). Bogart earned a leading part in The Petrified Forest as Hopkins
was so impressed with his troubled presence. He continued to star in several more films similar
to The Petrified Forest, such as Dead End, Stand-In and Black Legion. He transitioned into
supporting roles for more gangster films such as The Roaring Twenties and Angels with Dirty
Faces where the decade’s most popular actors, such as James Cagney and Edward G. Robinson,
overshadowed Bogart. In the early 1940s, he finally became a leading actor in Hollywood.
Movies such as High Sierra and The Maltese Falcon depended on the toughness shown in his
earlier films.
Bogart’s starring role in Casablanca, released in 1942, made him one of the most
prominent, successful actors in Hollywood. This film strengthened Bogart’s reputation because
he embodied the reluctant hero – a role with which audiences could identify, and which brought
attention to his everyman persona. His fame reached new heights when he married Lauren Bacall
in 1945. Bogart and Bacall starred in a few films together, such as To Have and Have Not, The
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Big Sleep, and Key Largo. The romantic onscreen relationships of their characters effectively
bolstered their actual marriage as audiences were exposed to Bogart and Bacall’s obvious love
for one another.
Before he met Bacall, Bogart developed a partnership with filmmaker with John Huston,
who directed him in The Maltese Falcon. Huston and Bogart also worked together on other
movies such as The Treasure of Sierra Madre, Key Largo and The African Queen. Of all the
directors that Bogart worked with, Huston best showed the actor’s most human side in their
collaborations. The director’s vision established how Bogart could maintain an everyman
persona because Huston brought out more of the actor’s mood (Thomson 45). Bogart’s
popularity grew when he received both popular and critical acclaim for his performance
alongside Katherine Hepburn in The African Queen, directed by Huston. Bogart won his only
Oscar for Best Actor for this movie. Bogart continued to star in films such as We’re No Angels
and The Harder They Fall, while his health declined due to his constant smoking and drinking.
In 1957, he passed away from esophageal cancer (Thomson 119).
III. Literature Review
Scholars such as Richard Dyer have noted how the on and off-screen ordinary personality
of stars such as Humphrey Bogart did not always play the Hollywood character type that
emphasized heroism and masculinity (27). Simplicity can be an advantage for stardom because
the stars’ relatability with their fans is heightened as the stars seem as if they could be neighbors
or relatives. Bogart characterized this phenomenon. Both Edward Berkowitz and Richard Dyer
provide thorough insight as to how Bogart embodied ordinariness. Berkowitz’s explanation of
Hollywood’s expectations for celebrities and of Bogart’s penchant for disregarding these
expectations provides evidence that his everyman persona was his signature image. Berkowitz
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wrote about Hollywood’s tendency to typecast celebrities and their onscreen appearances. Bogart
was in danger of being typecast as a villain because he played this role in several films during his
early film career. Some of Bogart’s more overlooked films, such as High Sierra, built up his
everyman persona and toned down the villain typecast, as explained in Berkowitz’s analysis of
this film, where he noted, “Bogart came with considerable baggage. He did not possess a fresh
face, having been in and around Hollywood for a decade, and he carried an automatic association
with criminal types” (87). Berkowitz contended that Bogart’s decade of being a struggling actor
eventually proved to be beneficial, shaping him into a personable actor as his background was
akin to that of the men and women who looked up to him. Berkowitz noted the demands and
trends from both studios and audiences, but Bogart did not surrender to those demands – he
stayed ordinary in spite of becoming the primary star during the masculine, heroic focus during
World War II.
Like Berkowitz, Richard Dyer also explores celebrity culture and why it is an essential
factor in recognizing Bogart’s enduring image as an everyman as opposed to the stereotypical
masculine star. Key films such as High Sierra and In a Lonely Place showcase a more personal
side to Bogart that cannot be overlooked. Dyer expounds on the way Bogart became popular
with American audiences because of his seemingly unconcerned outlook on fame. Building upon
this perspective, Dyer addresses the importance of an actor’s public image, or persona, when he
writes, “Stars are, like characters in stories, representations of people. Thus they relate to ideas
about what people are (or are supposed to be) like ... This means that they serve to disguise the
fact that they are just as much produced images, constructed personalities as ‘characters’ are”
(20). A star’s popularity derives from how audiences respond to and appreciate ideals associated
with their most iconic roles.
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Humphrey Bogart’s own personality generated an emotional reaction that enhanced his
popularity as an actor. Frederick Elkin’s research on viewers’ general opinions about Bogart
reinforces this idea, especially in the Hollywood trade magazines that covered his attitude and
personal life. In the article “Popular Hero Symbols and Audience Gratifications,” Elkin notes
how some women positively or negatively perceived the stars associated with their generation. In
1955, he conducted a study on how women reacted to well-known actors and actresses, including
Bette Davis, Rita Hayworth, James Stewart, and Humphrey Bogart. Elkin interviewed a small
number of women, whom he described as “thirty-two young adult and middle-aged women…of
American parentage, born and raised in Chicago or other urban areas, with a high school
education, living in modest apartments in a partially run-down section of Chicago” (99), and
asked them how they felt about these stars and their personalities. This description of his
subjects, who were typical, everyday women, supports why they acknowledged Bogart as an
everyman and not as an idolized, rich celebrity. He was like them; he could have been their
neighbor. Elaborating on his subjects’ reaction to Bogart, Elkin also explains:
The subjects are reassured first of all when the values of their own class position
are reaffirmed. These subjects, aware that there are groups above and below them
in the social scale, like to think of themselves as the ordinary, respectable average
folk of the nation. At the same time, accepting the American emphasis on ‘getting
ahead,’ they greatly respect those who can rise above this social level. There is a
danger however, in that those who rise to higher levels might now look upon them
as inferiors. Consequently the subjects find reassurance in those ‘common-man’
stars who are successful but who, at the same time, have maintained their
‘common-man’ interests and personality characteristics. (100-1)
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This perception of Bogart as a peer or an equal created an emotional attachment to him and the
characters he played, which heightened his popularity.
Elkin’s research group of women had both positive and negative reactions to Bogart’s
onscreen presence. His article describes how some of those women he interviewed responded to
Bogart’s tough, intimidating traits. Their mixed reactions demonstrate that his everyman persona
overrides the criticism, thus confirming that his onscreen persona is the primary reason audiences
esteem and relate to him. Elkin’s findings are instrumental because his results reveal how the
public viewed Bogart as a whole person, flaws and all. The various reactions reveal how
powerful different perspectives can be when discussing the distinct reputation of a celebrity.
The opinions of a target audience such as Elkin’s interviewees reflect how some
celebrities become confined by what fans expect from their signature characters. More
importantly, Humphrey Bogart’s everyman persona permeated his most well known roles,
including those of the antihero. In the article “Bogey, Bobby, and Woody: Diminutiveness and
the Antihero,” Greg Weiss focuses on Bogart’s role as an antihero and how this character type
played a significant function in Bogart’s everyman persona. An antihero often displays human
flaws or fragilities, and is relatable because of his tenacity or perseverance. Weiss argues that the
role of an antihero contributed significantly to Bogart’s reputation as an actor, as this role
reinforces the significance of the everyman. He covers the types of antiheroes that resonate
mainly with lower- and middle-class people. Weiss appropriately references Elkin’s article to
address Bogart’s “common man” persona and how it complements Bogart’s short height and
rugged appearance. Ruggedness brings more attention to how ordinary an antihero can be. Weiss
asserts that the middle- and lower-classes relate to an antihero such as Bogart since his movies
provide an identity for them through cinema. Weiss writes:
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In the same way, it reads better, or sounds better on the radio, for the hero to be
ruggedly, or dapperly handsome, than for him to be, like Bogart, physically ugly
but an attractive person. But the screen gives a man, or character, like Humphrey
Bogart the opportunity to demonstrate that his presence and performance can
permanently alter, or transcend a character’s written narrative. (98)
A hero’s vulnerabilities are usually overlooked, but Bogart, in assuming the role of the antihero,
accentuated those vulnerabilities and thus changed the valued role of traditional hero into a more
ordinary character to whom audiences could relate.
In addition to his vulnerability as an antihero, Bogart’s mortality made him relatable to
audiences. Breathless and Play It Again, Sam serve as transitions from Bogart’s career to his
posthumous legacy, because his death, alluded to in these two films, builds upon his established
everyman persona. His filmic and critical legacy augments how the role of an antihero made
Bogart’s everyman persona more prominent. In his article “The Death of Humphrey Bogart,”
French film theorist André Bazin argues that Bogart’s personality anticipated his eventual fate;
therefore, even Bogart’s death contributed to his legacy. Bazin elaborated on how mortality
appeared more prominently later in Bogart’s career as seen in a couple of his other notable
characters, such as the weathered but adventurous Charlie Allnut in The African Queen and the
unpredictable Philip Queeg in The Caine Mutiny. Because death exemplified a few of Bogart’s
most memorable characters, his onscreen presence was progressively marked by a corresponding
sense of desperation. Berkowitz and Dyer discuss Bogart’s weary but relatable personality in
relation to his career, but Bazin extended this argument to Bogart’s death. For Bazin, Bogart’s
mortality and vulnerability, not just his most iconic onscreen characters, made him relatable to
audiences. Bogart’s physical change onscreen not only acknowledged death’s arrival but also set
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up how he is portrayed posthumously. Bazin elaborates, “The Bogart man is not defined by his
accidental respect, or his contempt for bourgeois virtues, by his courage or his cowardice, but
above all by his existential maturity which gradually transforms life into a stubborn irony at the
expense of death” (101). Bogart’s fate drew more attention to the way audiences were exposed to
his human flaws, which are associated with his everyman persona.
Although some actors can hide their personal life from their audiences, Bogart’s
personal life was integral to his career. His relationship with Lauren Bacall and a disinterest
towards a luxurious lifestyle contributed to how Hollywood trade magazines and key films
further developed Bogart’s ordinariness. Stefan Kanfer’s biography of Humphrey Bogart, titled
Tough Without a Gun: The Life and Extraordinary Afterlife of Humphrey Bogart, provides
abundant details about Bogart’s career, his personal life, and his legacy. Kanfer acknowledges
that Bogart’s everyman image and reputation are evident in films such as In a Lonely Place,
Breathless and Play It Again, Sam. He then provides a critical analysis of these films that
furnishes more details as to how Bogart maintained his everyman image rather than conforming
to the typical Hollywood character type. Although Kanfer does not explicitly refer to Bogart as
an everyman, he points out scenarios during Bogart’s career and personal life where
characteristics of his everyman persona appear. He builds upon the performance style that Dyer
heavily emphasizes by discussing how personable Bogart could be with his public image. For
instance, Bogart’s down-to-earth personality emerged when he won the Oscar for Best Actor for
The African Queen. Referring to Bogart’s reaction when he won an Oscar, Kanfer informs:
‘No one does it alone,’ he told the noisy, appreciative audience. ‘As in tennis, you
need a good opponent or partner to bring out the best in you.’ … A few weeks
later, he assumed the old self-deprecating stance. ‘The best way to survive an
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Oscar is never to try to win another one,’ he told reporters. ‘You’ve seen what
happens to some Oscar winners. They spend the rest of their lives turning down
scripts while searching for the great role to win another one. Hell, I hope I’m
never even nominated again. It’s meat-and-potato roles for me from now on.
(168)
Bogart’s indifferent attitude to fame is an important detail that Kanfer discusses to support why
the actor’s everyman persona cannot be overlooked. Citing other scholars such as André Bazin,
Kanfer argues that this everyman image appeals to succeeding generations, who value Bogart
more as an ordinary guy than as a celebrity.
Kanfer contends that successive generations have appreciated Bogart’s everyman
persona even more than Bogart’s original audiences because they appreciate his willingness to be
himself. As one of classic Hollywood’s leading men, Bogart’s simplicity is often overlooked and
undervalued. Kanfer celebrated Bogart’s legacy by concluding, “Every other Hollywood
celebrity had been subject to the whims of time and fashion. As it turned out, though, Bogart was
immune” (231). His immunity connects his legacy with his accomplishments as an actor. Kanfer
pays close attention to why Bogart’s legacy thrives the most from how his everyman persona
endured over time. Along with the arguments made by scholars such as Berkowitz and Dyer,
Kanfer’s insight provides objective detail to reveal how Bogart’s own personality influenced his
Hollywood persona, thus maintaining his relevance and appeal.
IV. Hollywood Trade Magazines
One area in which Bogart’s everyman persona is well documented is in Hollywood trade
magazines. Traces of his ordinariness have become lost amidst the praise that Bogart garnered
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for his earlier roles. Magazines such as Screenland or Photoplay provide quotes from the actors
that support that Bogart’s everyman persona, which has always been a part of his public image.
His earliest movies, such as The Petrified Forest and Bullets or Ballots, established him
as the villain. He started his career playing tough, intimidating characters. In the December
1936- November 1937 issue of Modern Screen, the article “Humphrey’s Halcyon Days” glorifies
Bogart’s start as the gritty gangster. Ruth Rankin introduced Bogart by mentioning, “Humphrey
was the man without the shave, in ‘Petrified Forest,’ who made Dillinger look like a sissy. He
menaced things up in great shape for ‘Bullets and Ballots’—he was that nasty man named
Fenner, who finally shot the hero. Now, after all, the man who shoots the hero in any picture is
important” (51). This article demonstrates how unflappable Bogart could be playing a gritty
character and established his tough reputation as a positive trademark. More importantly,
“Humphrey’s Halcyon Days” hints at how Bogart’s tough guy roles established his everyman
persona. Rankin bragged about Bogart, “They are lining up things fast for Humphrey over at
Warners where they predict stardom for him within three years … He will have to be a star in
spite of himself … And by the time three years have elapsed, he will have had a fight with
everyone on the lot. However, everyone will wind up liking him because he won’t sit still and
take it” (51). While Rankin addresses Bogart’s toughness, his prediction of Bogart’s likability
makes the actor stand out among other stars that initially overshadowed him. When he was a
struggling actor, Bogart played supporting gangsters next to well-known actors such as James
Cagney or Edward G. Robinson. Yet even with his lack of prominence in these early films,
traces of Bogart’s everyman persona appear subtly, giving opportunities for audiences to
appreciate his toughness. The final section of “Humphrey’s Halcyon Days” alludes to how he is
also an everyman. Rankin concluded, “He’s kind of a nice guy—wears well—and is just as
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amusing since he got good sense, although, it certainly was a surprise” (96). Thus, the conclusion
mentions another side to Bogart that has become overlooked.
Though Bogart established a tough side in his early films, Dark Victory revealed Bogart’s
more romantic side, and demonstrated his versatility. Before his patriotism in Casablanca or his
relationship with Lauren Bacall, Bogart strengthened his everyman persona by starring in this
romantic drama. Some magazines reacted to this career move by focusing more on Humphrey
Bogart’s relationship with women. The January-December 1939 issue of Hollywood built upon
Bogart’s enhanced reputation by showing a picture of Bogart kissing Bette Davis as part of the
article “How to Be a Glamour Boy.” Bogart kissing Davis is a straightforward attempt to
intensify his sex appeal and to increase his fame. The captions summarize how charming and
romantic Bogart was in Dark Victory by declaring:
Humphrey Bogart gained fame and fortune on the screen by portrayals of mugs
and toughs and assorted hard cases. He sneered, he leered, he talked out of the
side of his mouth better than anybody, and the world loved him for it. Then came
his part of the impassioned groom in Dark Victory. Warner Brothers decided that
they had an undiscovered Great Lover. (Hollywood)
Thus, Humphrey Bogart’s reputation as a “glamour boy” developed, but his tough attitude
balanced out this aspect to his public image once he became a household name. Regarding this
source, magazines like Hollywood capitalized more on Bogart’s potential romantic side. Yet, his
everyman persona developed as he started playing different characters instead of just gangsters.
Not only did Bogart challenge the Hollywood expectations of glamour, but he also
subverted the values of fame and materialism. In the July-December 1942 issue of Photoplay, the
article “Things I Don’t Like About Myself” reveals Bogart’s more cynical approach to wealth
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and stardom. Bogart explained, “I loathe formal dinners as well as formal drawing rooms. I like
to eat when I eat and talk afterwards in peace and comfort; chitchat bores me almost as much as
regimented conversation … I disappoint people anyway. Everyone expects an actor to talk. I like
to listen. So I’m either branded dumb or moody” (88). A disinterest in the Hollywood lifestyle
pointed towards Bogart’s appreciation for an ordinary life. He even made fun of himself for his
flaws as he kept disappointing everyone. This personal reflection built up Bogart’s everyman
persona because he disapproved of the overly glamorized persona placed upon him. Kanfer
reveals, “In the early 1940s masculinity was defined by the appearances of men in
uniform…swashbuckler Errol Flynn…and leathery Humphrey Bogart were assigned to war
pictures that dealt with heroism under fire” (88). Bogart did not want to associate himself with
Hollywood’s expectations for expressing masculinity. Self-criticism indicates how he recognized
his own faults. His honesty in “Things I Don’t Like About Myself” did not conform to the lavish
lifestyle that society may associate with celebrities.
“Things I Don’t Like About Myself” mentions Bogart’s more personal, domestic side.
His appeal to the everyman fit into his onscreen persona. Bogart admitted:
Believe it or not, I haven’t even a rubdown table in my home. Or a rock
bath built into a gymnasium. I don’t go for this body beautiful stuff or 110
ways to have a slim waistline. Actors that make a fetish of fancy
exercising bore me. I hate being the guy around the studio that hates the
most going to the still gallery to have pictures … I want none of it. (88)
In this scenario, Bogart aimed for self-deprecation. While criticizing the expectations of the
entertainment industry, he also made fun of himself, as he was not preoccupied with his physical
appearance and wealth. His quips about his personal life reflect how he was not afraid to be too
17
honest. Magazines often depended on showing the glamour of celebrities, but Bogart’s lifestyle
differed from these implicit expectations. Through this interview, Bogart came across as an
everyman to the public. Bogart’s confessions prove how he wanted to be remembered as a
simple man. He wanted to be clear and precise with both readers and his fans. In the context of
the 1940s, “Things I Don’t Like About Myself” showed a new side to Bogart when he became
one of America’s most popular actors because of Casablanca.
Another important attribute of Humphrey Bogart’s everyman persona is his appeal to
middle-class audiences, who found his rugged, self-confident antihero persona relatable. Bogart
used his ordinary appearance as a contrast to his seemingly tough, aggressive antihero
personality. As Weiss explained, “Members of the lower-middle and middle classes can identify
with Bogart … Members of the lower-middle through upper classes find Bogart reassuring,
while they also simultaneously find him to be essentially alien – the conflict that accounts for his
antihero status” (102). As a star, it is difficult to appeal to a specific class yet also appear as the
outcast who does not willingly conform to Hollywood’s expectations. Bogart may have been
powerful and wealthy, but his persona allowed middle-to-lower class audiences to identify with
his characters.
Along with the appeal to the middle class, Bogart’s image evolved more when the public
learned about his relationship with Lauren Bacall, cementing both his stardom and his legacy. To
Have and Have Not remains an essential film for this couple because it introduced their
relationship. Bacall had just started her acting career, while Bogart had recently become a
celebrated romantic actor. In the November 1944-October 1945 issue of Screenland, the article
“Bacall’s Slant on Bogart” reveals how Bacall felt about him. Its writer, Gladys Hall, provides
abundant information about how much Bogart changed Bacall’s life and acting career. Bacall
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bragged about Bogart by mentioning, “As soon as I started to work with him in To Have and
Have Not, I knew how swell he is. He takes his work seriously. Yet he isn’t heavy about it. He
knows a great deal about the business, practically everything. He has great force. And great
emotion. And, of course, he gives you so much, you can’t help reacting to him” (22). Such a
compliment only confirms how much Bogart embodied the everyman. He managed to display his
ordinariness while dealing with the demands of the Hollywood lifestyle. Bacall discussed her
idea of living like a celebrity. She valued her success because she also appreciated how Bogart
handled working in the entertainment industry.
Publications such as Screenland often covered Bogart’s relationship with Bacall. The
article “He Knows about Women” strives to show Bogart’s charismatic side. Instead of being a
conventional ladies’ man, Bogart showcased his quick wit. This article praises Bogart by
mentioning that “his tough exterior and quick tongue can’t hide the fact that he happens to be
one swell guy” (70). The title may lead readers to believe that Bogart is slick and attractive.
However, Bacall pointed out a different side of Bogart. She explained, “After being married to
Bogey for more than eight years, I’m still not sure where his sense of humor ends, and his
serious nature if he has any – begins” (70). Humor provides another outlet for how audiences can
identify with Bogart. With his self-deprecating comments, he appears more down-to-earth and
human, thus endearing him to fans.
Fame and domesticity tend to be topics normally not associated with each other. This
combination made Bogart’s career unique as his marriage to Lauren Bacall became more
prominent. Marriage formed another aspect of Bogart’s romantic everyman persona as his fame
thrived due to his settled personal life. Building upon the publicity for The Big Sleep, the
November 1944-October 1945 issue of Screenland mentioned what Bogart wanted out of his
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relationship with Bacall. The feature spread “Here’s Hollywood” revealed Bogart’s lack of
interest in celebrity culture: “Startling, especially to his studio pals, was Humphrey Bogart’s
declaration that it was a serious romance between himself and Lauren Bacall … Recently Bogey
confided that he wanted a home and babies more than anything else in the world. This is
probably his first step in that direction” (56). The difference between Bogart and his “studio
pals” indicates how Bogart’s pursuit of a domestic lifestyle was unusual. His marriage allowed
him to present an image to which audiences could relate.
Besides Bacall, one of the most notable details pertaining to Bogart’s everyman persona
was the reaction that women have to his onscreen presence. Some audiences assumed that Bogart
always played tough, aggressive characters, but fans admired more than his tough-guy image. As
seen in Frederick Elkin’s 1955 study, Bogart’s common man traits are evident as even his target
audience recognized how down-to-earth Bogart actually was. While being asked about Bogart,
one of Elkin’s interviewees stated, “I don’t think he’s as tough as he’s cracked up to be. In a
movie, he would sacrifice his own grandmother. But you can see that underneath he’s not so bad.
A nice person can bring out the good in him and, if he really likes someone, he will be a true
friend” (103). Bogart’s characters revealed traces of vulnerability that display his kinder, gentler
side. Even during the 1940s, audiences could still detect his everyman persona amidst the tough
characters that made Bogart famous. Films such as Key Largo and The Treasure of Sierra Madre
used Bogart’s toughness to hide how ordinary he actually was. Bogart could manage to balance
an onscreen reputation for being both a lover and a tough guy; he could portray these various
characters because his persona remained defined by averageness, whether in his appearance or
attitude. For Elkin, his interview results proved why Bogart could play an antihero.
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Bogart’s unpretentious nature was also visible in the media coverage of his wedding with
Bacall. The July-December 1945 issue of Modern Screen gives abundant details about the
wedding; however, just as with his “What I Don’t Like About Myself” article, he subverted the
magazine’s glamorous expectations. Bogart’s insight into his wedding showed how he only
wanted to be an ordinary guy. This article reported, “People came from all over, but Lauren
wanted her wedding very simple and very private. She wanted Bogey and her beautiful young
mother” (108). Bogart’s simplicity carried over to his attitude about his wedding. Referring to
Bacall by her nickname Betty, he even joked, “Maybe Modern Screen would like to see Betty on
a manure spreader? That’s what we get when we come here—work with manure” (108). His
down-to-earth personality differed from the public’s expectations of fame. A small farm is hardly
glamorous. In fact, Bogart’s wedding was remarkably similar to typical American weddings.
Audiences could relate to it, and this event enhanced Bogart’s everyman persona.
Bogart retained his everyman persona at the height of his popularity as evidenced through
interviews with both him and Lauren Bacall. In the June 1945 issue of Cine-Mundial, an excerpt
from the feature article “The Volcano Woman” informed readers about Bogart’s background. Its
author Elena de la Torre mentioned:
Bogart insists throughout the conversation that Lauren’s career and his are
parallel. ‘Lauren was a model,’ he says, ‘and I have also been a model in my
childhood. I’m not as good-looking as her, but my mother thought that I was a
very cute boy and, as she was a drawer, often illustrated magazine covers with my
portrait.’ ‘How a person can change!’ comments Lauren ironically. ‘The gangster
roles are the ones that have made me ugly,’ he says. (314)
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He celebrated and joked about his lack of attractiveness. Both his awareness and sense of humor
only added on to his everyman image. Even after his marriage to Bacall, which heightened his
romantic appeal, his public image still maintained the self-confident charm that is seen in his
signature films.
Bogart’s political beliefs and defense of himself led to a controversial part of his career.
During the time period of the House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC) trials, he
continued to give insight into his personal life. In the May 1948 issue of Photoplay, for example,
Bogart’s article “I’m No Communist” summarized how he felt about the HUAC and the way
many actors were treated during a time when America feared the spread of communism. In this
article, he not only discussed how he felt about the violation of the freedom of speech in general,
but also how he and several other stars specifically were portrayed, according to whether or not
they were communists. His remarks about political strife and duties as an actor reflect how
Bogart connected with other Americans. While addressing these accusations, he related his
political ideals to American values: “We were there solely in the interests of freedom of speech,
freedom of the screen and protection of the Bill of Rights … None of us in that plane was
anything but an American citizen concerned with a possible threat to his democratic liberties”
(54). He aligned himself with ordinary citizens by reminding everyone that he supports
American democracy, and he associated himself with American values. In the article he even
invoked his fame and wealth to present himself as a loyal American, citing his swimming pool
and other Hollywood luxuries as evidence of his support for capitalism (53). Bogart knew that
society would sometimes heavily criticize Hollywood stars and not take some celebrities
seriously, regardless of how adamantly some stars might voice their concerns or appreciation for
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America. His response reflected his pride in being American and allowed him to maintain his
dignity as an everyman.
To incorporate a personal aspect into his response, Bogart approached the communism
issue lightheartedly. He even admitted, “I refused to take it seriously, figuring that nobody else
would take it seriously. The public, I figured, knew me and had known me for years. Sure, I had
campaigned for FDR, but that had been the extent of my participation in politics” (53). Bogart
defended himself by criticizing how ridiculous were the accusations that he was a communist.
He was not afraid to speak out about how he felt about America. Notably, the actor made an
effort to ensure that Americans accepted him as a normal person. In most of his film and media
appearances during this time, his everyman credentials were implied without his effort, and he
reacted confidently when his responsibility to America was questioned.
V. Key Films
Although he started out as an actor who primarily played intimidating characters, two of
his films in particular demonstrate his diversity: High Sierra and In a Lonely Place. Both of
these films allowed the everyman persona to define Bogart’s character. While Bogart was not the
most attractive leading actor of his generation, this characteristic made his ordinariness more
appealing and also more obvious. These aforementioned movies capitalize on Bogart’s down-toearth attitude, because his characters’ flaws reinforce how Bogart relied on himself, not on his
stardom.
For instance, High Sierra defies how he can only be viewed one-dimensionally. This film
is about a criminal who is released from jail, yet he decides to plan another heist with a group of
inexperienced gangsters. While High Sierra captures the essence of his earlier gangster films, it
also portrays how Bogart maintains dignity when he is expressing himself. This movie also
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displays how Bogart can relate with his audience. Although he plays a gangster, this film
changes the emotional dynamic of Bogart’s gruff characters to show a more sentimental side of
the villain. Edward Berkowitz summarized, “The picture works because of Bogart’s ability to
convey complex and contrary emotions and also because of the relationship he has established
with the movie audience as a hard-working gangster. The picture signals his possible retirement
as a gangster and the beginning of something else that will make use of his past resumé” (88).
Before Casablanca made Bogart a household name, High Sierra used his onscreen reputation as
a gangster but also reinvented his rugged image. The film showcased him as the leading actor,
which increased his fame. Bogart’s harsh, masculine persona yielded to his more relatable side.
The gangster’s outer expression remains, but this character’s inner turmoil connects with the life
of average Americans.
Roy Earle, Bogart’s character in High Sierra, is an infamous gangster, but he attempts to
live a normal life by fitting in with a family that lives in the countryside. When he arrives at their
cabin, he bonds with the father by talking about where he grew up. Earle reveals that he was
raised on a farm in Indiana, and the father enthusiastically replies, “I said to Ma out there in the
desert, you was our kind.” In this movie, Bogart proved that it is possible for a ruthless character
like Earle to become associated with an ordinary middle-class family that does not live in a
metropolitan city. Earle is able to befriend an ordinary family because they shared similar
backgrounds, and he continues to bond with the family when he starts a conversation with the
daughter Velma about the stars and planets. He educates Velma about the solar system to feel
closer to the family, appearing calm and charming while doing so. His warm smile comforts the
family, while his confident behavior reinforces the family’s perception of his normality. Showing
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a dangerous criminal’s everyman persona rarely appears in gangster film, but Bogart’s talents as
an actor allow him to be both tough and ordinary simultaneously.
Similar to High Sierra, an expanded perception on Humphrey Bogart’s persona is
presented in In a Lonely Place, which reiterated his everyman persona as opposed to his tough
guy roles. High Sierra made him a star because its story relied on Bogart’s rugged image. In a
Lonely Place, though, is about a scriptwriter, Dixon Steele, who has been wrongly accused of
murder. A neighbor, Laurel Gray, falls in love with Steele partially because he successfully
convinces her that he is an ordinary guy and not a murderer. Gray manages to clear Steele of the
murder charges, but in the process, she confronts his violent, troubled side.
In a Lonely Place departs from what audiences and critics were expecting from a film
that glorified Bogart’s masculinity. Richard Dyer notes how many actors and actresses during the
Golden Age of Hollywood tried to be natural while acting. He explained, “Performers nearly
always played characters, yet with stars … the tendency also at the same time to play
‘themselves’ was equally strong. A style of performance that seems more like day-to-day
interaction and the adaptation to social types facilitated this process” (139). In a Lonely Place
supported this approach to performance because the leading character Dixon Steele thrived from
Bogart’s natural behavior. Social interactions with everyday people within in the film provided a
framework for Bogart to appear as an ordinary man in the most believable sense.
Bogart’s transition from a tough character became more evident because his character
pursued a domestic lifestyle instead of embracing the limelight. Dixon Steele does not embrace
being famous, as he never appears comfortable while dealing with studio executives or other
bystanders. Instead, like Bogart himself, Steele pursues an ordinary life. Bogart shows a part of
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himself through Dixon Steele’s doubts about fame, and he gives a believable performance
because he incorporates his personal life into the story.
Building upon the everyman persona, In a Lonely Place exhibits how unpleasant and
troubled Dixon Steele is with himself and celebrity culture. Steele contrasts with the solemn hero
or gritty villain that Bogart played previously. This movie is an anomaly in the actor’s
filmography because Steele’s problems with stardom provided Bogart an opportunity to play a
character that is not glorified or self-confident. Some audiences associated Bogart with the role
of the antihero since he has shown the capability for portraying either a tough guy or a lover.
Stefan Kanfer discussed how In a Lonely Place challenged Bogart’s performance style. He
explained:
In a Lonely Place is character-driven in every sense...The mise-en-scene made
Humphrey uncomfortable, perhaps because it seemed a little too close to home.
The character he played was a Hollywood personality, wellborn yet insecure,
edgy defensive, teasing, with a streak of violence hidden beneath a mask of
politesse…Thus far, it’s the Bogart of old—cynical, unyielding, yet with a
patrician nobility winking just beneath the surface...In fact this was an entirely
new kind of role for Humphrey, more mature than Sam Spade and more
complicated than Fred C. Dobbs. (148-9)
Steele displays flawed characteristics that can be associated with ordinariness. His fame becomes
outweighed by his temper and unease. Steele’s violent behavior mirrors Bogart’s struggle to
avoid being typecast as one onscreen character, which solely depended only on his toughness or
romantic charm. Steele’s dissatisfaction with fame makes him more personable, and he comes
across as an unpleasant man because he cannot find a lifestyle that suits him. Steele is a celebrity
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but does not relish his luxuries. An ordinary life never seems possible because he has violent
confrontations with others each time he tries to blend into his community. This tension between
ordinariness and fame creates Steele’s dysfunctional personality and prevents him from adapting
to normal life.
Two specific scenes display how uncomfortable Steele is with himself. His struggle to fit
into society escalates when he arrives at a bar for a meeting. Drawing attention to Steele’s fame,
a child asks the scriptwriter for an autograph. He appears hesitant to sign an autograph as he asks
the child if he recognizes him. A young girl mentions, “Don’t bother. He’s nobody.” Steele looks
at the boy with approval and replies, “She’s right.” Steele embraces the truth that he is not a
major celebrity. While signing a couple of autographs, he goes through the motions. Enthusiasm
and charisma are lacking when Steele interacts with the children. He longs for a normal life, and
signing autographs is not an activity that Steele enjoys. His yearning to be an everyman becomes
apparent when a director, Lloyd Barnes, greets him. Steele immediately replies to the child,
“Here’s somebody. Lloyd Barnes. Big director. Made all his money before the income tax.”
Steele shifts the attention to another star without any hesitation. He prefers that the children talk
to Barnes or ask him for an autograph. This level of indifference continues as Steele attempts to
blend in with other people.
Another scene shows Dixon trying to demonstrate his domesticated everyman persona by
cooking breakfast. While working in the kitchen, he struggles to complete simple tasks such as
slicing open a grapefruit with the wrong type of knife. His frustration with cutting the fruit
dominates the scene. Laurel Gray, who is now his fiancée, walks into the kitchen and offers to
help Steele. He declines her help because he wants to prove that he can be a loving, supporting
husband. Yet, Steele does not know how to properly prepare a meal. Gray questions Steele about
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the knife that he uses to cut open the grapefruit. He looks intently at the knife and mentions that
he had to straighten the bent knife. Gray corrects Steele by informing him that the knife is meant
to be crooked. Then, Steele holds the knife and looks at it with a confused expression. He
mutters to himself, “What will they think of next?” Dixon cannot figure out how to use
household appliances, regardless of how hard he tries to act like an everyman. He appears as if
he cannot adapt to living comfortably and normally in a typical neighborhood, which reflects
how fame manipulates the everyman persona. Dixon wants to get married and live without
dealing with a studio’s demands. Just as a studio carefully controls star personas, Dixon attempts
to control everything that his fiancée does, which results in his abusive behavior toward her. He
monitors and questions everything that Gray does around their home. Yet, Steele never improves
his behavior for the sake of his fiancée, and he becomes more irrational because he never finds
satisfaction with himself or his reputation.
VI. Legacy
Bogart’s everyman persona continues to gain attention posthumously because successive
audiences focused on how he appeared like an ordinary man more than an idolized celebrity.
Bogart’s public image and posthumous legacy made Breathless and Play It Again, Sam more
personable movies because a new facet to his personality emerged. As the Golden Age of
Hollywood concluded, Bogart’s everyman persona maintained relevance because of his down-toearth attitude. His onscreen presence inspired other contrasting characters, portrayed by stars
such as Jean-Paul Belmondo and Woody Allen, to be self-confident.
The media portrayal of Bogart’s posthumous legacy began when the publication
Screenland honored him. After his death, the July 1955-May 1957 issue of Screenland paid a
tribute to Bogart’s career with an article titled “So Long Bogie,” which favorably portrayed his
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accomplishments as an actor and his ability to connect with his audience. The article described
Bogart as “Hollywood’s favorite curmudgeon.” His stoic qualities had gained an affectionate
side in the public eye. While “So Long Bogie” may give a brief summary of Bogart’s career, its
praise summarizes Bogart’s appeal as an everyman. The piece concludes, “He led the kind of life
every man secretly dreams of, but few dare to live” (42). Screenland notices how he appealed to
his audiences for his personality and mindset rather than for pure fame. Bogart reminded people
that anyone could approach life like he did, and the average man could attain his type of
masculinity. “So Long Bogie” brings awareness to how sentimental audiences are about his
career.
While Screenland celebrated the career of Humphrey Bogart, critic André Bazin took a
different perspective. In the February 1957 issue of Cahiers du Cinema, Bazin noted how death
encapsulated the actor’s tired appearance and wrote that many men and women mourned the loss
of Humphrey Bogart because his characters paralleled their own lives and struggles. This
sentimental connection derives from the establishment of his everyman persona. He described
Bogart as a “man defined by fate” (99). For Bazin, Bogart also personified death’s arrival with
both his aging, tired physique and unquestionable stoicism. He described Bogart as, “Bruised a
little more each time by all the bad blows he had taken in the preceding films … he had become,
with colour, the extraordinary creature with the belching, sallow, spitting out teeth, just good
enough for the swamp leeches, and yet the man who will steer the African Queen safely to port”
(99). Calling an actor a “creature” does not evoke a pleasant image for any star. Bazin pointed
out ordinary features that are typically ignored in magazines like Photoplay or Screenland.
Bogart’s weathered appearance highlighted his struggle with his well-being.
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Bogart’s stoicism contributed to how persistent his everyman persona was, even after his
death. Bazin elaborated, “Distrust and weariness, wisdom and scepticism: Bogey is a Stoic. I
particularly admire in his success the fact that he never in the final analysis depended in any
respect on the character of the roles he embodied.” (100). Normally, it is difficult to garner fame
by expressing a lack of emotion, but Bogart succeeded as an actor with this approach. The
suffering and trials of his characters are evident in his stoicism, thus allowing his popularity to
endure.
Along with Bazin’s reflection, actress Louise Brooks reminisced on how Bogart
channeled his “Bogey” persona to define his down-to-earth attitude. In her article, “Humphrey &
Bogey,” she referred to him as “Bogey” to draw more attention to his relatability. Brooks’s
details about Bogart’s personal life and activities add substance to how the everyman persona
defines him at his best. She even mentioned, “In doing research on Humphrey, I was amazed to
read the number of his ‘recreations.’ He played golf, tennis, bridge, chess. He sailed. He read
books! Except on one occasion, the only thing I ever saw him do was sit and drink and talk with
people” (6). Brooks hinted at how Bogart kept his hobbies private since she admitted that she
never witnessed this aspect of his life. The hidden complexities were in contradiction to the
simple image he liked to exemplify. The character, “Bogey,” is instrumental in revealing the
everyman traits that Brooks eventually uncovered. She alluded to why Bogart’s legacy matters.
Brooks writes, “His senseless pursuit of death became pathetic, even noble … His eyes glazed
and invisible comic strip balloons circled his dialogue … In his last films, it was not the theatre
Humphrey who overcame Bogey, but the real man, Humphrey Bogart, whose fundamental
inertia had always menaced his career” (4). Brooks knew how stressful and demanding the
entertainment industry could be, so she was able to relate to Bogart’s lifestyle. She reiterates how
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“Bogey” is simply an attitude that can be sensed from the actor’s true identity. Bogart struggled
from dealing with himself as a celebrity.
Bogart’s everyman personality appears in both Breathless and Play It Again, Sam, both
of which were written and released after his death. A prominent example is Jean-Luc Godard’s
Breathless, which is a film that satirizes American gangster films. Breathless was released in
1960, three years after Bogart’s death. Thus, his life and acting career maintained popularity.
While walking down a sidewalk, the film’s protagonist, Michel Poiccard, portrayed by Jean-Paul
Belmondo, stops and stares at the celebrity displayed on a poster outside of a movie theater. The
camera cuts back and forth between the photograph of Humphrey Bogart and Poiccard’s starryeyed face to show how he identifies with the American actor. Lack of dialogue emphasizes
Bogart’s every physical detail, like his receding hairline, his wrinkly forehead, and his sagging
eyes. These features become synonymous with his lack of emotion because restless men like
Poiccard are infatuated with Bogart’s expression of manhood. Alongside his picture, a poster for
The Harder They Fall displays a large picture of Humphrey Bogart smoking a cigarette. This
advertisement hints at how death personified Bogart’s everyman persona because The Harder
They Fall was the last movie that Bogart starred in before he died. While staring at this portrait,
Poiccard mutters to himself, “Bogey.” He refers to the actor by a nickname, which indicates the
emotional connection that audiences have with Bogart. His brief, but memorable, presence in
Breathless strengthens his posthumous legacy as he continues to inspire men who behave
similarly to Poiccard.
Furthermore, Poiccard attempts to emulate Bogart with his rebellious behavior.
Poiccard’s main purpose in life is to mimic the criminals in gangster films. He walks around the
city with a gait that is akin to Bogart’s. He even appears to intentionally imitate Bogart when he
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smokes a cigar, drives a car or talks to his multiple girlfriends. These small gestures appear
sporadically throughout Breathless, where Poiccard’s behavior is patterned after Bogart’s not
just as a celebrity but also as an average man. Bogart allowed his mortality to be part of his
cinematic image, and thus made his fate almost exciting, even charismatic. A loner such as
Poiccard eagerly adopts this concept into his own approach to life. Death does not faze him
because he finds self-confidence by aspiring to act like one of his favorite American actors.
Considering the connection between Poiccard and Bogart, Breathless shows appreciation for
Humphrey Bogart’s cinematic image.
Another important film that highlights Bogart’s legacy is Woody Allen’s Play It Again,
Sam (1972). The caricature of Bogart and Allen’s character, Allan Felix, rely on different
depictions of masculinity. A mentor as straightforward and secure as Bogart allows Felix to
confront his social anxieties. Felix’s reliance on Bogart’s advice gives him an idea of both
manhood and self-confidence. Greg Weiss discussed the everyman persona of Allen and how he
compares to Bogart’s personality. He elaborated:
It is not a coincidence that when Allen decides in 1972’s Play It Again, Sam to get
serious in regards to life and women that he seeks the counsel of Humphrey
Bogart’s ghost, who in Allen’s movie is a caricature of competent decisiveness.
Allen dramatizes the passage from boyhood into manhood as a transition from
being Woody Allen to Humphrey Bogart. As a diminutive comedian and dramatic
actor, respectively, Allen and Bogart’s antihero statuses arise from the same
cultural wellspring but necessarily manifest themselves oppositely. (105)
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Overall, Play It Again, Sam emphasizes how Allen looks up to Bogart as a role model. Allen’s
awkwardness contributes to his everyman traits, but his low self-esteem points to how he aspires
to appear and to behave just like his favorite actor.
The spirit of Bogart is immediately recognizable in Play It Again, Sam because he
appears as a tough guy with a trench coat and a pistol. However, he never acts like a tough guy.
Felix’s infatuation with his favorite actor calls to mind David Thomson’s description of Bogart.
He explains, “In his white tuxedo jacket, with a new toupee, crisp and boyish…or in a trench
coat and a fedora, with the shadow of the hat brim leaving his eyes just visible, Bogie was the
spirit of alliance and foreboding optimism. He was one of us. So we became a little like him”
(67). Felix exemplifies how ordinary men try to emulate their favorite actors. Bogart’s everyman
persona controls several scenes throughout Play It Again, Sam because he is always giving life
lessons to Felix. Audiences may still associate the trench coat and pistol with how Bogart
appears onscreen, but Allen shifts this categorization toward how an everyman would behave
around other people.
Play It Again, Sam opens with Felix watching Casablanca in a movie theater,
emphasizing his obsession with the actor. During Casablanca’s ending, Felix completely invests
himself with the story and characters. He stares in awe as his eyes bulge at the presence of
Humphrey Bogart as Rick Blaine. This establishing shot of Felix watching Casablanca sets up
the relationship that he creates with his role model. His gaze toward Bogart shares similarities
with how Poiccard studies a portrait of Bogart in Breathless. Each character’s infatuation
illuminates how Bogart attracts the everyman to imitate him. Felix’s mental image of his favorite
actor contributes to how much he depends on Bogart as his conscience.
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Felix impersonates Bogart in an attempt to improve his own self-confidence. When he
goes out one night, Felix sits alone at the bar and attempts to drink a shot of bourbon. In an
attempt to imitate Bogart, he slurs, “Nothin’ a little bourbon and soda couldn’t fix.” He sits
upright and cocks his head to the side because he assumes Bogart would behave similarly. Felix
aims to emulate his role model but fails every time. After his first sip, he spews out the shot of
bourbon and quickly drinks his glass of soda. Felix listens to Bogart’s advice, but his low selfesteem detracts from his ability to copy him. Bogart’s self-confidence provides an escape for
Felix from his awkwardness. This obsession translates as a way for average men to deal with
their personal problems. Bogart’s everyman persona appears prominently in Play It Again, Sam
because his recognizable onscreen persona now becomes a mentor for other everyman
characters.
Bogart’s caricature becomes so ingrained in Felix’s life that that the actor appears in the
most mundane settings, including a grocery store. In this setting, Bogart’s everyman persona
resonates with Felix at a more personal level. Bogart, wearing his signature trench coat while
walking down an aisle at the grocery store, reinforces his tough guy image. This interaction
allows Felix to admit to Bogart that he has feelings for a friend’s wife. He justifies these feelings
by saying, “Guilty over what? Two lonely people with a tremendous amount in common have
dinner together. We’re platonic friends.” Felix feels sorry for himself, but Bogart keeps
challenging him to show more confidence. The actor sternly corrects Felix about the candles that
he buys for his date. Bogart snaps, “Don’t get those candles! Those are for a Jewish holiday. Get
romantic candles!” The star seems more personable while giving advice about what to buy at a
grocery store. Whether he’s holding a gun or chewing on a toothpick, Bogart expresses his
down-to-earth persona during any scenario.
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VII. Conclusion
A star’s image is intertwined with his own personality and his films. In the case of
Humphrey Bogart, both his legacy and his “Bogey” image derive from how he resonates with the
average individual. He is often remembered for his ruggedness and romanticism, especially by
the generation that grew up on his films. His physical attributes, while singularly unremarkable,
merged with his relatable personality to form a magnetic, irresistible star with whom both men
and women could identify and to whom they were drawn. “Bogey” does not have meaning
without Bogart’s common-man traits. The everyman persona becomes associated with
exceptional stardom when Bogart appears as an ordinary guy. Bogart became not only an icon,
but people also aspired to have his attitude. Middle-class America connected to Bogart because
he was like them. This concept is captured in films shown during his career and after his death.
Bogart stands out posthumously because other generations attached to his everyman persona
instead of his tough guy image or his romantic side.
Hollywood has depended on the “man’s man” for leading actors, such as Clint Eastwood
or Sean Connery, but Bogart managed to be an extraordinary man without asserting aggression
upon other people, as Stefan Kanfer opined. Thus, Bogart proves that masculinity does not have
to be overly exaggerated. A leading actor’s onscreen image can be appreciated more if his
personal life positively contributes to his presence. Hollywood managed to display Bogart’s
toughness without compromising his everyman persona. Audiences could recognize his ability to
show aggression without resorting to the overly heroic, or even violent, actions of the previously
mentioned tough guys. His display of masculinity did not always comport to what some studios
wanted, but he still maintained popularity. Kanfer elaborated on how his everyman persona made
other leading male actors appear incapable of imitating Bogart’s manhood. He confirmed this
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idea by noting, “He was courteous to women and straightforward to men, and when he made a
promise he kept it. The latter was a rare thing in Hollywood; no wonder that a sense of
disappointment registered so strongly in his performance and in his life” (254). Bogart molded
the virtues of a gentleman into his own style as he understood how hard life could be, even for a
celebrity. Many generations remember him for how different his masculinity was. His legacy
thrives since Bogart did not have to amend his averageness to draw in a younger audience. Even
though Hollywood tried to typecast him, he still maintained a balance throughout the variety of
characters he played.
Bogart’s everyman persona smoothly transitions from the Golden Age of Hollywood to
1970s American cinema. In the context of 1940s Hollywood, America valued patriotism and
masculinity. The younger generations, who related more to Bogart’s down-to-earth attitude than
the tough, patriotic persona that older generations valued, contributed to further shaping his
legacy. Even so, younger generations could still connect with classic Hollywood as they paid
more attention to how the everyman persona captured Bogart’s charisma. Berkowitz explains,
“New stars, such as Humphrey Bogart and Bob Hope, replaced the ones away at war. A
perceived need to stress unity among the American people put a new slant on old movie
situations” (78). Bogart’s popularity carried over to the 1970s and beyond because succeeding
generations recognized why Americans appreciated him. His personality renewed the cultural
importance of Breathless and Play It Again, Sam because these examples revitalized his image.
This transition in Bogart’s appeal confirms why movies such as Casablanca and The Harder
They Fall carry a new context to his onscreen presence, as seen in Breathless and Play It Again,
Sam, because his characters in his most famous films now highlight the distinction of an
everyman. America’s values shifted over the years but its adoration of Bogart never wavered.
36
No actors maintained the everyman persona throughout their careers as naturally as
Humphrey Bogart did. His distinct accomplishment as an ordinary man preserved his popularity.
Even when magazines tried to portray Bogart as glamorous, their images of him still showed
how unassuming and natural he was. He acted like an average guy, regardless of the attention
that he received from the media. Bogart managed to use both his romantic side and tough side to
complement his average physique. The balance between these two differing characteristics gave
him a reputation that appealed to a class of people usually not associated with Hollywood. His
relationship with Lauren Bacall further characterized his romantic side and provided another way
for audiences to connect with him. Using his charm, Bogart maintained his down-to-earth
reputation, which extended into a unique legacy. He was not afraid to be himself nor did he
succumb to the pressures of Hollywood and the media. The quintessential Humphrey Bogart
offered a sense of normalcy to stardom, which made him more intriguing and relatable than the
typical glamorous celebrity. Bogart’s popular appeal endures today.
37
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