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6.5/10
Senior Film Conservator
A definitive 6.5/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. San Quentin remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
If you have a soft spot for 1930s prison dramas where everyone talks out of the side of their mouth, sure, catch it on a rainy Tuesday. If you’re looking for something that breaks the mold or surprises you with a twist, you’re probably going to be checking your watch by the thirty-minute mark.
It’s very much a "Bogart doing his thing" picture. You either want that, or you don't. It doesn't ask for much, but it doesn't give much back either.
The movie sets up the prison yard like it's a neighborhood playground, just with more walls and way more staring. There’s this one scene where Bogart walks through the crowd, and you can tell half the extras were told to just look menacingly at a piece of dirt. It feels strangely empty, like they forgot to hire enough guys to make the place actually feel crowded.
The dialogue is snappy, maybe a little too snappy. Everyone delivers their lines like they are trying to win a prize for being the most cynical person in the room. It gets a little exhausting, honestly.
The whole subplot with the sister feels tacked on, like someone in the studio said, "Hey, we need a girl in this, make it happen." It slows down the pace, and not in a good, thoughtful way. It just feels like two different movies glued together.
There is a moment where Bogart is trying to be tender, but he looks like he’s trying to solve a math problem in his head. It’s kind of funny if you look at it the right way. It’s nowhere near the chemistry you’d find in something like Across the Pacific, but it’s fine for a B-movie filler.
It’s not a masterpiece. It’s not even trying to be one. It’s a movie that exists to fill a slot in a double feature, and it does that just fine. Sometimes you don't need art, you just need to see Bogart yell at a guy in a gray jumpsuit. 🎥
