Bogie & Bacall's Chemistry Brings Depth to ‘Dark Passage’ 1947

 

Humphrey Bogart & Lauren Bacall in 1947's "Dark Passage," the duo's third film.

The 1947 WB film noir Dark Passage is highly entertaining, but the whirlwind story is filled with back to back coincidences and chatty supporting characters. The movie will leave you breathless but unbelieving at what has cartoonishly transpired.

Convict Vincent Parry (Bogart) is determined not to rot in San Quentin, and escapes to find the real killer of his wife. From the get go, Parry’s path is filled with the most convenient coincidences. The stacked deck plot specifically comes from nosy people who go way out of their way to aid or deter Bogie’s escapee. 

After escaping in the back of a prison truck, Parry is later picked up by a grinning goon, who gives him the third degree from the moment Parry gets in his car. It doesn’t help that Bogie's wearing only a sleeveless undershirt (he's no Gable), prison work pants, and muddy shoes. After the radio announcer conveniently reveals his identity and the tell-tale details, they tussle from the car and Bogie drags him into the roadside bushes. 

Bogie's convict has the misfortune of being picked up by this goon, in "Dark Passage."

After Bogie takes the driver’s clothes, who comes along but Lauren Bacall? As Irene Jansen, she's an artist who just happened to be out painting landscapes. Jansen just happened to hear about the escape, just happened to be driving by, and just happened to be a champion of Parry, when he was getting raked over the coals by the press during his murder trial. The "just happened" trope is a constant throughout this flick. As stylish and adult as Dark Passage plays, I rolled my eyes more than a few times at the blizzard of coincidences!

Look who happened to be out painting landscapes while a convict escapes?
Lauren Bacall finds Humphrey Bogart in the bushes in "Dark Passage."

Jansen smuggles Parry back to her stylish Deco apartment building (which still stands on San Francisco’s Montgomery Street). It turns out Irene’s interest in his case stems from her own father's murder trial of his wife. While Irene goes out for a new suit for Parry, her nosy friend Madge knocks on the door. Turns out that her testimony is what got Parry imprisoned—small world. Madge, a vision in leopard skin, pounds on the door but gives up, yet is suspicious. In one of several dumb moves, Parry raises the blind to look at her, and she stares back, twice!

All spiffed up courtesy of Irene, Parry decides to get plastic surgery, on a tip from a very gabby cab driver, who takes his cause for no good reason. Parry looks up an old buddy for post-surgery shelter, as he doesn't want to impose further on Irene. George, a musician, knew Parry’s wife, as well as Madge, who he despises. 

Off to the plastic surgeon, who likes to yak as much as the cab driver, and looks like he's been preserved in alcohol! The doc’s a guy who you wouldn't let give you a shave, much less slice your face. Once anesthetized, Parry has a drugged nightmare worthy of a William Castle thriller. Afterward, the doc gives him a list of detailed care instructions. The good news is that the surgeon reassures Bogie he can still drink and smoke.

Would you let this guy give you a shave, much less plastic surgery? "Dark Passage."

Bogie looks quite unflattering in his bandaged state, big woeful eyes, and thin face and lips—kind of like a Chihuahua, post-cosmetic surgery! Parry gets back to his pal's only to find he's been murdered, with the musician’s horn. Natch, Parry handles the instrument, leaves prints, and flees. 

Rumor has it that Jack Warner was unhappy that his top star was only heard the
first third of "Dark Passage," and looked like this for the middle of the film!

Not at all conspicuous climbing up multiple fights of steep stairs in San Francisco, he passes out when he reaches Irene's. Under her tender care, she is totally in love at this point, despite his being the suspect of murder #2. Their lovey-dovey convalescence is interrupted by an unexpected visit by Madge. She's panicked by Parry being on the loose (who's hiding in Irene's bedroom.) Madge shrilly insists that she stay with Irene, who couldn't be less delighted. Then here comes Bob, Irene's sort of boyfriend. Bob is played by Bruce Bennett in his typical glum style. He too was familiar with Parry's case and unfortunately, Madge.

Bogie's plastic surgery is such a success that he doesn't even have scars or puffiness when Bacall removes the bandages. It is stressed that the surgeon made Bogie look older, good thing since Bogie looked far older than his 47 years! It’s amusing that Parry’s “before” photos in the newspapers outweighs Bogie by about 30 pounds. That prison grub must have been grueling!

Beefy Vincent Parry, before he becomes the beef jerky that is Humphrey Bogart,
in  1947's "Dark Passage."

He no sooner stops at an all-night diner than a cop's suspicions is instantly raised. A chase ensues and Parry hides out at a hotel. Parry's first ride comes knocking, looking for a blackmail payday. Once again car buddies, they tussle once more, where scrawny Bogart dispatches the lunkhead off a steep cliff. That is now murder number #3, though Bogie claims innocence of the suspicious demises of his wife and friend.

Agnes Moorehead as Madge, the cougar dressed in leopard skin, in "Dark Passage." 

Parry goes back to Madge’s to get the truth out of her. With every minor character on their soap box, musing about life, truth, and happiness, there is little time for Agnes Moorehead's monstrous Madge. She appears briefly at Irene's door, then in the middle to barge in and act incredibly annoying, then in the finale, where she pulls out all the stops. As skillful as Agnes is at acting, this feels like a Carol Burnett spoof, rushing through to the climax. Madge falls through a window to her death, and Bogie flees the scene looking totally suspicious. In the finale, Bogie's Parry decides that it's hopeless to try to clear himself of four deaths—good call. So, it's off to Peru to livin’ life incognito!

Involved with four deaths, Bogie's fugitive is off to Peru, in 1947's "Dark Passage."

In a phone call to Bacall’s Irene, detailing how to find him, Bogie's Parry sounds like Morgan Freeman giving Tim Robbins prison-style GPS The Shawshank Redemption. Bogie sips a cocktail in a swanky nightclub, their song comes up, and there’s smiling Lauren Bacall, and the lovebirds dance off into the Peruvian sunset.

Lauren Bacall is more relaxed than in her earlier film outings. Remember, she made her film debut just three years earlier in To Have and Have Not. Here, Bacall is more a sympathetic character and not as snarky. I never thought Bacall had much versatility as an actress, but within that range, she was quite striking. 

Bacall is also quite lovely at just 23. Apparently a trust fund baby as well as Bogie's Baby, Irene paints and teaches children's art classes, which doesn't account for a lovely pad and stylish wardrobe. I liked that while Bacall was quite glam here, her face doesn't look like a mask and her beautiful hair isn't bleached to the nth degree like most Hollywood blondes. She looked real—and really beautiful.

I always found Lauren Bacall one of the more natural glamour girls of the 1940s.
Except for the winged eyebrows, Bacall's style is very contemporary.

I totally get Bogie's sexual appeal and while he looked rather frail and rough when not lavished with soft close-ups (those weren't given just to the ladies), his very expressive eyes, distinctive voice, and charisma made that very clear why 19-year-old Bacall fell for 25 years older Bogie in To Have and Have Not.

After a couple decades of hard living, Bogie began to settle down to a happy marriage
 with Lauren Bacall. At 47, Bogart required a toupee and soft lighting to disguise
his premature aging. From 1947's "Dark Passage."

A more candid shot of Humphrey Bogart, reading "Dark Passage."

Delmer Daves’ direction and writing try to tie up all the loose ends and contrivances, unlike Howard Hawks’ The Big Sleep. But it all feels like warp speed storytelling! Maybe some of those screenwriter-friendly supporting speeches should have been cut.

Bogie, Bacall, and director/screenwriter Delmer Daves look at some film footage.

Some film fans geek out over certain films' techniques and style. While that stuff is enjoyable, the story and the acting are what matter to me. Robert Montgomery’s Lady in the Lake is virtually unwatchable, with the actors overreacting and the constant camera movement over the top. Or Hitchcock’s Spellbound, because of the mostly-deleted Salvador Dali sequences, ignoring the hokey Hitch psychoanalysis. There’s also Alfred Hitchcock’s Rope, a technically handsome production, with its long takes and handsome set. Unfortunately, the stilted story and acting come off like a filmed ‘40s Broadway play. Of all these movies mentioned, Dark Passage pulls off Bogie’s pre-cosmetic surgery POV and post-surgery camera work the most subtly.

Dark Passage is really an exercise in style, with a strong production and cast. If only the film’s story was as authentic as its two iconic stars.

 

Bogie and Baby, going in for the clinch, in 1947's "Dark Passage."