Paul Henreid

Dead Ringer (1964)

(On Cable TV, November 2020) Amusingly enough, Bette Davis played twin characters twice during her career—first in 1946’s romantic comedy A Stolen Life, and then in 1964’s late-noir thriller Dead Ringer. Two Bette Davis for the price of one ticket? All right! This being said, the Bette Davises in Dead Ringer were more than 18 years distant from the ones in A Stolen Life—Davis aged visibly (What Happened to Baby Jane, still the best known of her later-career movies, was released two years prior to this one), and much of what she brings to her roles here is in portraying a woman on the decline, eager to secure something on her way down. That “something” here ends up being her own estranged sister’s identity, following a dark web of money, murder and unsavoury associates. The plot is best kept at arm’s length, though: the best thing here is Davis and the atmosphere of the film, and the multiple hooks to earlier eras of the film. The noir influence here is clear, but it’s mutating into something else. Directed by former Hollywood star Paul Henreid, it features the same cinematographer as A Stolen Life, improving upon the special effects to make us believe in twin Davises. It does work, and partly because it manages a good hybridization between crime thriller and romantic drama, allowing some fine character work without quite losing sight of the plot driving the entire film. I quite liked it, although I suspect that the film is best appreciated in the Hollywood continuum than as a single film—there’s quite a bit more weight to give to the film once you know about Davis and Henreid and noir and A Simple Life. Keep it in reserve after you know more, maybe—call it a 201-Hollywood history-grade film.

Casablanca (1942)

Casablanca (1942)

(Second or third viewing, On DVD, January 2018) I first saw Casablanca in the mid-nineties, as I was rummaging through my university library’s collection of film classics. I really, really loved it at the time, to the point of writing a Science Fiction parody that has thankfully not escaped my hard drive since then. Casablanca remained my standard for accidental greatness from the Hollywood studio system, the kind of film where magic just happens from competent people just doing their job. (In discussions about classic cinema, I usually oppose Casablanca to Citizen Kane, both of whom I love dearly but the second of which was designed to be a masterpiece while the first just sort of happened.)  I wasn’t necessarily looking forward to another viewing now: What if the film wasn’t as good as I remembered? What if it fell flat next to the thousands of movies I had seen since then? I shouldn’t have worried: Casablanca is still as good today as at any time since its original release. It’s a film that grabs you quickly and seldom lets go, whether it’s firing on romantic or thrilling energy. Blending comedy, passion, suspense and political issues (now deliciously historical), Casablanca is one of the original four-quadrant triumphs, seamlessly going from one thing to another along the way from a gripping opening to a memorable conclusion. Humphrey Bogart is impeccable as the protagonist, but the supporting performances are fine across the board, from Claude Rains to Ingrid Bergman to Paul Henreid, all the way to the extras singing The Marseillaise given how (Casablanca histories tell us) that they were nearly all European exiles or refugees. Historically, Casablanca rolled the dice and landed a solid 12, describing a personal tipping point right after the country decided to go beat up Nazi Germany. Still, there is something for everyone in this film—you don’t have to catch the allusions to the date of the events to feel for its heroes at the most basic level. The Paris scenes may feel redundant, but they provide some of the film’s best quotes and movie-star moments. All told, iconic Casablanca remains a triumph of moviemaking, as good as the genre ever gets. I look forward to seeing it another time.