Tag Archives: Lauren Bacall

DARK PASSAGE (1947) throwback Thursday review

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Spectacular and immersive! Dark Passage is the outstanding Bogie-Bacall film noir that you’ve likely never seen or even heard of, but you’ll want to change that. From beginning to end, this motion picture never ceases to draw you into its mysterious, seductive atmosphere. Bogie delivers a noteworthy performance through his dynamic facial expressions and body language, but it’s Bacall that steals the show through her sultry, smart, and sensational screen presence and performance. Dark Passage simultaneously checks all the film noir boxes whilst delivering something fresh and exciting.

Vincent Parry (Bogart) has just escaped from prison after being locked up for a crime he did not commit–murdering his wife. Vincent finds that his face is betraying him, literally, so he finds a plastic surgeon to give him new features. After getting a ride out of town from a stranger, Vincent crosses paths with Irene Jansen (Lauren Bacall), who believes in his innocence and helps him unravel the mystery surrounding his wife’s murder.

The most striking production element of Dark Passage is its innovative use of motivated camera framing and movement, which provides a unique and immersive perspective for the audience. By presenting the action from Vincent’s point of view (POV), the audience is drawn into his experiences and emotions, creating a sense of empathy and connection with the character. This technique adds a layer of suspense and tension to the film, as the audience is kept in the dark about Vincent’s true identity until later in the story. While POV camera is commonplace today, in the 1940s it was almost unheard of, which may have contributed to the reception of the film. But, if you’re searching for an excellent example of emotive POV camera, then definitely add this movie to your watch list.

Thematically, the film concerns itself with exploring concepts such as identity, justice, and redemption. Vincent’s transformation through plastic surgery raises questions about the nature of identity and whether changing one’s appearance can truly alter who they are on psychological, physiological, and emotional levels. As Vincent searches for his late wife’s real killer in order to clear his name, he grapples with issues of morality and the quest for justice in a corrupt world.

Underscoring the aforementioned themes is the compelling and complex relationship between Vincent and Irene. Irene’s unwavering belief in Vincent’s innocence provides him with hope and motivation to continue his search for the truth. Their growing bond adds depth to the story and serves as a contrast to the darker elements of the plot, because of the humor generated by their conflicting personalities. Film noir isn’t characterized merely by grayscale images (commonly referred to as black and white), but specifically the high contrast between light and dark. The high contrast isn’t only communicated visually, but is communicated thematically as well. In Dark Passage, the humor in Vincent and Irene’s relationship is the light to the film’s dark elements. 

Lauren Bacall delivers a captivating performance as the determined Irene Jansen, Bacall’s portrayal of Irene is both alluring and sympathetic, adding depth to the character and serving as a crucial counterpart to Humphrey Bogart’s Vincent. Bacall’s performance exudes confidence and intelligence, traits that are essential for Irene as she navigates the morally ambiguous world of the film noir genre.

Perhaps the very definition and embodiment of femme fatale, Bacall communicates strength and cunning whilst never at the expense of sensuality and seduction. Moreover, she simultaneously conveys both fortitude and vulnerability beneath her character’s poised exterior. Bacall authentically portrays a relatable human dimension, allowing the audience to empathize with Irene’s plight and unwavering support for Vincent.

Furthermore, Bacall brings a sense of sophistication and glamour to the role, seamlessly fitting into the noir aesthetic. Her distinctive voice and sultry demeanor add to Irene’s allure, making her a memorable presence in every scene in which she appears. Humphrey Bogart delivers a compelling and nuanced performance in the film, even when we do not see him. Even his voice work is outstanding. His portrayal of Vincent is a masterclass in film noir acting, showcasing his ability to convey complex emotions and inner conflict.

Bogart’s performance is particularly noteworthy for his use of facial expressions and body language to convey Vincent’s emotions. Even when his face is hidden from view during the first part of the film, Bogart manages to convey a wide range of emotions through his voice and physical presence alone. His expressive eyes, in particular, become a focal point for conveying Vincent’s inner turmoil and determination.

Bogie’s performance is a truly an underrated performance in his illustrious career. With his skillful portrayal of Vincent Parry, Bogart elevates the film beyond its genre trappings, creating a compelling and unforgettable character that lingers in the minds of audiences long after the credits roll.

On an aesthetic level, one of film noir’s most striking elements is the high contrast grayscale imagery. The moody grayscale cinematography brilliantly captures the shadowy streets of San Francisco, thus crafting an atmosphere of dread. Beyond mere aesthetics, however, the lighting and camera movement communicate a sense of unease and mystery, mirroring Vincent’s (and by extension film noir’s) emotional journey through this murky world of crime and deception.

Why isn’t this brilliant picture more well-known? Most likely the reasons are three fold (1) competition from other better-known Bogie-Bacall collaborations like The Big Sleep (2) overt subjective camera framing and movement and (3) availability on broadcast/cable TV and home video.

Points one and three are somewhat interlinked because other Bogie-Bacall pictures like A Gentleman’s Agreement and The Big Sleep are much better known because they received higher praise from critics and audiences (even though Dark Passage received mostly positive reviews at the time of its release). And because of this, other Bogie-Bacall pictures received more airtime on broadcast and cable TV and were more widely available to own on home video and DVD. The second point, which may have led to the mixed-positive reception, concerns the (what would’ve been interpreted at the time as experimental) subjective camera techniques. In retrospect, the POV shots are an outstanding use of motivated camera movement that simultaneously conveys the film’s theme of identity and advances the plot. 

While not as well-known as it should be, Dark Passage holds significance within the film noir genre and remains appreciated by cinephiles for its innovative cinematography, compelling performances from Bogie and Bacall, and atmospheric storytelling. And underscoring the technical and performative achievement is the film’s exploration of identity and injustice. It remains a captivating and influential motion picture.

Ryan teaches Film Studies and Screenwriting at the University of Tampa and is a member of the Critics Association of Central Florida and Indie Film Critics of America. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Interested in Ryan making a guest appearance on your podcast or contributing to your website? Send him a DM on Twitter. If you’re ever in Tampa or Orlando, feel free to catch a movie with him.

Follow him on Twitter: RLTerry1 and LetterBoxd: RLTerry

Sinister Summer 2020 “Misery” Retrospective

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Do your ankles hurt just at the thought of this film??? Well, they should because this is one of the most unnerving horror movies of all time. In fact, each semester when I show my students the hobbling scene, they visibly cringe at that moment, and often remark that it was one of the most nightmarish scenes they’ve ever witnessed in a film. Based on the best-selling novel by Stephen King, Misery is widely regarded as one of the most terrifying psychological horror films ever. Directed by Rob Reiner, it stars then-newcomer Kathy Bates as Annie Wilkes, and playing opposite Kathy is James Caan as celebrity author Paul Sheldon. Just a quick note, the sultry Lauren Bacall also makes an appearance in this horror film as Sheldon’s agent. While this role is little more than a cameo, very few icons of the screen could’ve commanded it as beautifully as she did for those few scenes. Not only is this a brilliantly written and directed horror film, but Bates captivated us with her outstanding performance as the terrifying Annie Wilkes. In a quintessential Hitchcockian fashion, Rob Reiner crafts a phenomenal adaptation of the King novel that turns us into the prisoner of a disturbed and frightening fangirl. Annie convinced us that anyone who claims to be your No.1 fan may actually be your No.1 worst nightmare. Next time a nondescript motherly figure invites you to her picturesque cabin in Colorado, you may want to consider staying at the local Holiday Inn instead.

Clearly, Reiner studied Alfred Hitchcock’s methods for shooting a thriller. Evidence of this tone is witnessed in the framing, character blocking, and lingering shots. In fact, I argue that if you were to replace Reiner’s name with Hitchcock’s, it would be easy to convince (non cinephile’s) that it was in fact directed by the Master of Suspense. Reiner provides audiences with one of the most iconic horror films from the 90s that holds up incredibly well. Even with the typewriter, the sheer terror that Caan’s character of Paul Sheldon felt as he was kept prisoner by his sadistic No.1 fan Annie Wilkes (Bates). One of the biggest differences between the book and movie is the famous and painful hobbling scene. The book depicts Annie chopping off one of Paul’s feet versus the crippling of the ankles in the movie. I feel this was a good choice because the sledgehammer scene is far more painful than the former. I mean, every time I see a sledgehammer, I am reminded of this scene even to this day. Misery takes a minimalistic approach to the American horror film at a time that it was about being bigger and better. This approach was contrary to the trends of the day in that it felt far more intimate than other horror film contemporaries. As such, Reiner’s Misery is also largely takes place in one location (only flanked by quick moments in others). The combination of truly appalling, gut wrenching, darkly humorous, and sadistically amusing nature of this film enables it to hold up incredibly well and boasts one of the single most horrific scenes in horror cinema history.

Talk about a character with incredible depth! Annie Wilkes is one of those exemplary characters in horror that provides ample opportunity to apply critical lenses to analyze her psychology and sociology. Clearly she displays signs of psychopathy, but there is so much more to her character. And those layers are what makes her one of the most terrifying characters in horror film history. On the surface, she is a monster-like human; but beneath that sociopathic behavior, she is clearly suffering from severe mental disorders brought on by past trauma. Collectively, we can surmise that Annie’s past traumas left her feeling that everyone and everything is out to get her. Therefore, she runs a countryside farm in mountainous Colorado away from everyone. Her only interaction with outsiders is when she has to run to town to pickup food and supplies. In addition to her mental disorders, she also displays signs of agoraphobia. Although some of her mental disorders have direct impact on her violent nature, other disorders are largely indirectly responsible, such as her likely obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD). Evidence supporting this can be seen in her immaculately clean and organized house. Her OCD contributes significantly to her obsession with Paul Sheldon. The only joy in her life comes from the romance novels that she reads–a vicarious way to experience a full life–namely the Misery series by Paul Sheldon. Essentially, she is the perfect storm of psychological and emotional disorders all wrapped up in a an unassuming citizen of a small Colorado town. She could very well be your neighbor or one of your social media followers. Perhaps she is YOUR No.1 fan.

Although screenwriter William Goldman adds in a subplot of the town’s sheriff investigating the disappearance of Paul Sheldon, which works very well for the film even though it was not in the novel, the story is about two characters (representing two sides of the same coin) trapped in a room together, locked in a psycho-social battle of wills. Ostensibly, this story features two characters whom represent the creative mind of Stephen King during his real addiction to alcohol. I mention this real-life time of darkness in King’s life, not to glorify it because it helped inspire one of his greatest novels turned film, but it helps us to understand the depth and power of the story and characters. Both Sheldon and Wilkes have incredible chemistry because they represent real life villains in the life of King. King’s real battle between his healthy mind and drug-induced state parallels Paul Sheldon’s battle for freedom with Annie Wilkes standing in his way. In a most brilliant fashion, the sadistic former nurse Annie is the manifestation of how controlling a drug addiction can be–how it makes the user a prisoner of one’s own mind and body. This subplot is strategically woven into the main action plot then delivered through the character development and character-driven scenes in the story.

Annie is not completely evil. Early on, she shows us that she cares about victims as she could not have known that it was Paul Sheldon that she was rescuing from the car crash. Being his No.1 fan, as soon as she saw him, she knew precisely who he was and therefore her obsessive nature takes over. There is a moment that encapsulates one of the film’s themes that is often overlooked. Prior to caring for Paul, Annie takes his attache full of manuscripts and tucks it under her arm thus symbolizing that Paul’s work is more important than Paul’s life. But that doesn’t confirm her psychopathic nature. Even upon the more formal introduction of Annie, she shows us that she cares about Paul’s recovery as she crudely splints his broken legs. Why not take him to the hospital? Well, because she is his No.1 fan and no one can take care of him the way she can. She goes on to shower Paul with accolades. Claims to have read his Misery novels several times, even committing them to memory. Furthermore, she closely identifies with Misery Chastain (the series’ central character), so cares deeply what happens to her. Albeit being hospitalized in a stranger’s private residence is a little disconcerting, Paul grows to trust and even like Annie. He trusts her so much that he allows her to read the unpublished manuscript for the final Misery novel. And this is where things take a turn for the worse, Paul’s hospital is about to turn into a prison ran by the sinister warden from hell.

The plot of Misery works on multiple levels to generate the fear that it elicits from audiences. It’s a combination of exploring the effects of isolation on the mind and body, depicting various interpretations of captivity, and the overwhelming sense of dread that cruel intentions are lurking in the background of everything. And it’s not abstract feelings of isolation that Paul experiences, but he is literally isolated from the world due to being snowed in and downed phone lines. Despite being just outside of town, he may as well be on the moon. Without phone lines, Paul is cut off from anyone that is not Annie. Not only is Paul a prisoner of Annie’s house and his room (and eventually the bed specifically), but he is a psychological prisoner as well. He only has Annie to talk to, and he has to play her game or risk her violent mania. Failing to play her game, the role she would have him play, has grave consequences. And those grave consequences give way to the ominous sense of impending cruelty. Even before Annie completely loses it, Paul sees through the cracks in her homespun veneer, and what he sees terrifies him. I absolutely love Annie’s long drawn out monologue about the Kimberly Mines before she hobbles Paul. Paired with the creepy rendition of Moonlight Serenade, this scene plays out with methodic brilliance. The suspense of what is to come will make even the bravest crumble under the fear.

During Annie’s rage over the offensive swearing in the unpublished manuscript, she spills the hot soup on Paul and we begin to see the signs of her mania, twisted morals, paranoia, and negative effects of OCD. Obviously, we learn more about her psychopathy as the scenes unfold, but in retrospect, we witness the signs in big bold letters from this moment on. But she doesn’t continually behave in such a neurotic manner. She oscillates back and forth. This oscillation is an important aspect to her character because it drives up the tension and suspense because we don’t know when or where to expect her dangerous behavior. There are moments that we anticipate a violent outburst, but then she fools us by not delivering. By the same token, there are moments that we don’t expect it, and she terrifies us. The character trait of Annie’s that makes her one of the most terrifying in the Blockbuster of horror is her lack of feeling. Everything she does, she rationalizes without regard for quality of life or humankind. The very definition of sociopath.

The psycho-social disorders affecting the behavior and psychology of Annie are never confirmed, and don’t need to be. We don’t need to know precisely why or what causes Annie to behave the way she does. Because if we fully understood her, she would cease to be as nightmare-inducing as she is. It’s important that Annie Wilkes remain a type of Boogeyman. However, we can gather from the film that she suffers from a form schizotypal personality disorder, OCD (which I’ve mentioned), and meets most of the criteria of borderline personality disorder. A trifecta of disorders that creates the monster that we encounter in the film. She copes with these disorders by executing numerous defensive mechanisms including denial, projection, rationalization, regression, fantasy, and more. Whereas we often talk about her psychopathy and sociopathy, we often neglect to recognize her highly intelligent mind. Too bad her intelligence isn’t matched by empathy and and human kindness. Her intellect is observed through how she anticipates Paul’s movements and knowing when he’s been out of his room. And an intelligent villain is the most dangerous and unpredictable of all.

Aside from her disorders, unpredictable behavior, and lack of empathy, attributes that can be found in other horror villains, she stands out because she is a women. It’s her feminism that enables her to stand out against similar villains such as Norman Bates, Jack Torrance, Buffalo Bill and others. When we typically think of female characters or women in general (and I realize I am over-generalizing), we think of someone whom is kind, hospitable, nurturing, passive, and empathetic. Annie subverts those notions in so many ways, many of which have been outlined in this analysis. She makes Joan Crawford from Mommy Dearest look like Mrs. Brady. As out of control as Annie behaves, she is very much in control. She IS the one holding all the cards and calling the shots in this prison. While other characters (male or female) with similar disorders or backgrounds that parallel Annie’s have lost their minds, Annie knows precisely what she is doing, and is supremely strategic when she does it. We may be cheering when Paul finally kills her with the typewriter, in brilliant ironic fashion, but she is an incredibly strong female character who can hold her own, backs down to no one.

Not only is Misery one of the top psychological horror films ever made, but Annie is a noteworthy female character in the horror genre. While the final girls get most of the attention when we talk Women in Horror, it’s important to not forget that horror has given us terrifying women as well. Whereas so often the most interesting villains (or characters of opposition) get to be played by men, this film would not be as powerful is the roles were gender swapped. The fact that this psychopath is a women makes her all the more disturbing. She crafts such overwhelming sense of dread that is more frightening because we aren’t used to female characters as the main villains. Kathy Bates was a perfect choice for this role, and she has gone on to play all kinds of roles but the horror community gets extra excited when she plays a horror role. While horror doesn’t often win awards at the Oscars, Kathy Bates won the Academy Award for an actress in a leading role for her work in Misery.

Ryan teaches Film Studies and Screenwriting at the University of Tampa. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Interested in Ryan making a guest appearance on your podcast or contributing to your website? Send him a DM on Twitter or email him at RLTerry1@gmail.com! If you’re ever in Tampa or Orlando, feel free to catch a movie with him.

Follow him on Twitter: RLTerry1