Showing posts with label Karl Malden. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Karl Malden. Show all posts

Thursday, November 6, 2014

Classic Films in Focus: DEAD RINGER (1964)

Despite its gruesome title, Dead Ringer (1964) provides a sharp contrast to the better known hagsploitation movies Bette Davis made during the same period. In both Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? (1962) and Hush... Hush, Sweet Charlotte (1964), Davis plays aging women well beyond the verge of a nervous breakdown, but in Dead Ringer the actress returns to more glamorous territory as a wealthy widow and the vengeful twin who assumes her identity. Between the two characters, Davis plays callous, resentful, homicidal, and deceptive, but neither Margaret nor Edith ever comes across as crazy. Paul Henreid, one of Davis' most important leading men from the old days, directs the action with an eye for its melodramatic sensibilities more than its thrills, while Davis' costars Karl Malden and Peter Lawford also emphasize the romantic angles as each of the twins' love interests. Thriller fans looking for high tension might find Dead Ringer a bit of a letdown, but Davis admirers will get twice the gratification from this story of thwarted love and deeply ironic justice.

Davis opens the film as Edith Phillips, a middle-aged spinster with a failing Los Angeles cocktail bar and a cop boyfriend, Jim (Karl Malden). When Edith attends the funeral of her brother-in-law, the lover her sister, Margaret, stole from her years ago, the twin sisters meet again for the first time in nearly two decades. Angry about the old betrayal and desperate to escape her bleak life, Edith murders Margaret, stages the body as her own suicide, and takes the rich sister's place in a lavish mansion. Unfortunately for Edith, Jim proves more dedicated to her memory than she expects, while Margaret's lover, Tony (Peter Lawford), has dangerous secrets of his own to protect.

We actually see very little of the real Margaret in the movie; a double stands in for Davis, conveniently wearing a mourning veil, in most of the early scenes, and Edith kills Margaret in the first act. When we do see both sisters in the same frame, the effects work looks convincing, and Davis does an excellent job acting opposite herself. She had played twins before, in the 1946 film, A Stolen Life, so she had experience with the trick of seeming to be two different people in the same shot, although the older film actually employs the technique more frequently and to more startling effect. Davis spends most of Dead Ringer playing Edith pretending to be Margaret, a challenging task made more difficult by the constant presence of servants, family members, friends, and, worst of all, Margaret's suspicious lover. Not having seen her sister in so many years, Edith naturally has no idea who Margaret's friends are or how to behave around them, and her suddenly cooled ardor toward Tony quickly tips him off that a changeling has taken Margaret's place. In the third act, however, Davis has some truly triumphant moments as Edith finally realizes the extent of Margaret's crimes and makes a fateful decision to protect the integrity of her old identity from the person she has become. There the picture plunges into the melodramatic territory that Davis knows so well, and her final moments as the bravely masquerading "Margaret" are quite as good as any of the climactic scenes she played in her younger days.

A strong supporting cast helps to elevate the material, as well, particularly Karl Malden as Edith's rather prosaic beau. Edith doesn't understand how much Jim cares about her until she has already gone too far to reclaim him, and Malden is especially good in the later acts, when Jim doggedly hangs around the DeLorca mansion because "Margaret" reminds him so much of Edith. Malden doesn't play Jim as a dope, but he has to be thick enough not to see through Edith's disguise. Peter Lawford, on the other hand, is every bit the wolf; his Tony is as sharp-eyed and callous and Jim is gullible and sentimental. Fifteen years younger than Davis, Lawford has the air of a gigolo, handsome but opportunistic and calculating. Since Margaret is only in the movie for the first act, Tony becomes the real villain of the piece, and he's marvelously awful, so much so that the viewer will cheer his much-deserved doom. Jean Hagen has a small role as Margaret's socialite friend, Dede, and Paul Henreid's daughter, Monika, plays Margaret's maid, but Estelle Winwood is the most memorable of the bit players as the elderly Dona Anna.

Davis' other pictures from the early 1960s include A Pocketful of Miracles (1961) and The Nanny (1965), but A Stolen Life makes an especially good double feature for a double dose of Davis twins. See Paul Henreid in front of the camera with Davis in Now, Voyager (1942) and Deception (1946); he is best remembered today for his performance in Casablanca (1942), but he directed a number of films and television series, including 28 episodes of Alfred Hitchcock Presents. Karl Malden won an Oscar for A Streetcar Named Desire (1951); catch more of him in On the Waterfront (1954), Baby Doll (1956), and Gypsy (1962). Peter Lawford also stars in Easter Parade (1948), Royal Wedding (1951), and Ocean's Eleven (1960). For more actors in dual roles, try Lady of the Night (1925), The Prisoner of Zenda (1937 or 1952), That Night in Rio (1941), and Cat Ballou (1965).


Tuesday, June 10, 2014

Classic Films in Focus: KISS OF DEATH (1947)

Henry Hathaway’s 1947 Fox film noir has much to recommend it, but Kiss of Death is most notable as the shocking debut of Richard Widmark, whose performance as the picture’s chief villain is so gripping that it scored the Hollywood newcomer an Oscar nomination for Best Supporting Actor. Widmark’s giggling psychopath, Tommy Udo, ranks among the genre’s greatest heavies, but beyond his scenes of sadistic humor Kiss of Death is a surprisingly domestic noir, with Victor Mature as a hard luck case who really just wants to enjoy a normal life with his wife and kids. With no femme fatale in sight and a plot that prefigures key elements of Cape Fear (1962), Kiss of Death is a worthwhile picture that avoids many, if not all, of noir’s cliches while still existing well within its boundaries.

Victor Mature plays Nick Bianco, an ex-con who returns to crime because his prison record keeps him from getting a regular job. When he’s convicted for a jewelry heist, Nick refuses to cooperate with assistant district attorney D’Angelo (Brian Donlevy) because he believes his organization will look after his family, but in prison he learns that his wife has committed suicide and his two little girls have been sent to an orphanage. Nick provides information about his former cronies and manages to rebuild his life with new wife Nettie (Coleen Gray), but his testimony against the murderous Tommy Udo (Widmark) places his entire family in terrible danger.

Like Robert Mitchum, Victor Mature has a face made for noir; his heavy brow and full lips are more striking than handsome, but the shadowy cinematography of the genre plays perfectly across his features. His Nick is a lifelong loser, a product of the underbelly whose own father was shot in the street by the cops, but he still longs for working class respectability. We don’t need D’Angelo’s frequently repeated assurances to know that Nick is really a good guy who deserves as many chances as it takes to turn his life around. One thing that sets Kiss of Death apart from other noir films is the depiction of the protagonist as a devoted and loving father; children are rare in noir’s dark world, but here the two young daughters drive Nick’s actions, both good and bad. He is attracted to Nettie not only because she is young and beautiful but because she loves his children and will be a good mother to them, better even than their real mother, an adulterous alcoholic who abandoned the girls by killing herself. Once Nick has Nettie, his children, and the honest life he always yearned for, he will do anything to protect them, even if that means taking on Tommy Udo all by himself.

Widmark’s gleefully insane killer functions as Nick’s polar opposite; here is a man who desires only power and status at any cost. Tommy initially likes Nick because he perceives him as a “big man,” but Nick has no taste for Tommy’s violent pleasures. Widmark invests his character with a hyper energy that frequently erupts into his trademark giggle, a sound more chilling than most villains’ deepest growls. As a grinning psychopath who relishes his victims’ fear, Tommy clearly gets a thrill out of murdering an old woman by pushing her down a flight of stairs, but he also delights in the notoriety his crimes bring him. When he threatens Nick’s wife and kids, he doesn’t have to spell out the perverse nature of his intentions; we understand the horrific implications of Tommy’s idea of “fun.” The influence of Widmark’s performance can be seen in later deranged killers from Robert Mitchum’s Max Cady in Cape Fear (1962) to Heath Ledger’s version of The Joker in The Dark Knight (2008), but it also informed Widmark’s own career, leading him to play similar types in The Street with No Name (1948) and Road House (1948). Even noir aficionados who find fault with Kiss of Death overall acknowledge the brilliance of Widmark’s turn as Tommy Udo and rank him not only as one of noir’s great villains, but one of film’s most chilling psychopathic characters.

Keep an eye out for Karl Malden in a small supporting role as one of the cops working with the district attorney, and be sure to appreciate the lovely Coleen Gray as Nettie. For more of Richard Widmark’s best films, see classic noir like Night and the City (1950) and Pickup on South Street (1953) as well as the Westerns Yellow Sky (1948), Broken Lance (1954), and Warlock (1959). Victor Mature stars in I Wake Up Screaming (1941), My Darling Clementine (1946), and Samson and Delilah (1949). You’ll find Coleen Gray in Nightmare Alley (1947), Red River (1948), and Kansas City Confidential (1952). Henry Hathaway’s other noir films include The Dark Corner (1946), Call Northside 777 (1948), and Niagara (1953), but he is probably best remembered today for True Grit (1969).