Bogie & Lizabeth Scott in Derivative ‘Dead Reckoning’ 1947

 

Lizabeth Scott & Humphrey Bogart team for 1947's film noir, "Dead Reckoning."

Humphrey Bogart's Dead Reckoning was released in 1947 by Columbia Pictures, the same year as Bogie’s WB effort, Dark Passage. Both film noirs had a few things in common: Bogart's on the lam, looking for a killer; there's Bogie-style noir narration; and he meets mysterious blondes that instantly fall for him.

Humphrey Bogart as war hero "Rip" Murdock, in 1947's "Dead Reckoning." 
Bogie's Rip is determined to get the bottom of the death of his war buddy.

Dead Reckoning feels like a mashup of Gilda and The Maltese Falcon. This Columbia film noir was intended as a vehicle for their top star, Rita Hayworth, to be teamed with Bogart for the first time. Imagine, Bogie working with the inspiration for his later film, The Barefoot Contessa! But Rita was still toiling on hubby Orson Welles’ own noir, The Lady from Shanghai. Columbia cleverly borrowed new star Lizabeth Scott from Paramount, considered “The Threat” to Bogie's co-star and spouse, Lauren Bacall. They were both blonde with husky voices but that's where the similarities end.

They didn't call Lizabeth Scott smoky-voiced for nothing! Humphrey Bogart lights
her cigarette and more, in 1947's "Dead Reckoning."

In Dead Reckoning, Bogart plays “Rip” Murdock, a war hero who is looking for the killer of his wartime comrade. The movie opens with Bogie's soldier on the run from cops and bad guys. Injured, he ducks into a church. There, he begins confessing his tale to an Air Force chaplain in true film noir narration style. I was smiling, imagining what the priest thought of this over-detailed, lingo-laden tale of woe, which lasts for most of the movie! It reminded me of Carol Burnett’s Mildred Fierce, where she tells the police her story in flashback, starting when she was a poor little girl with shabby shoes!

Humphrey Bogart hides out in a church and tells his long, convoluted tale to a priest,
in the 1947 film noir, "Dead Reckoning."

Film noirs are renowned for their coincidences and Dead Reckoning is no exception. Bogie barely gets to his missing pal's home town before the coincidences start a collision pile-up. When he arrives in Gulf City, he happens to check into the hotel that his buddy already booked for him, knowing he'd follow him. A fugitive AND a friend, how thoughtful! A trip to the library to research any clues on his pal’s life before the military handily provides front page headlines of his pal's involvement in a murder. Later, at the night club where these peeps patronized, The Sanctuary, meeting these characters proves instantly fruitful. One witness is a very nervous bartender. The lady in question sidles up to Rip before he barely has time for a first sip of his drink. The bad guys then zero in on the soldier turned sleuth. The bartender has some secret info for Bogie’s Rip, which means he'll soon turn up dead. Of course, Lizabeth Scott’s Coral Chandler is a nightclub singer, and is soon asked to sing her signature ditty from their table! And no way does it resemble Scott’s speaking voice, plus her blowfish mouth movements—all very strange, since Lizabeth made several musical records later.

Love these old movies where the leading man or lady in question has a framed picture to represent them at a climatic moment! Humphrey Bogart and Lizabeth Scott
in 1947's "Dead Reckoning."

The smooth club owner and his sadistic sidekick run the club the size of a soundstage and they seem to have something on Lizabeth's song bird. Bogie’s Rip is wary of all of them. Perhaps he saw Gilda! From there, Rip is determined to get the info and the murder weapon back, but he seems thwarted at every turn. Who keeps tripping him up? From there, there's some plot lifting of The Maltese Falcon.

***Spoiler Alert Ahead***

Bogie does the best he can with the over the top dialogue assigned to him. That he does so credibly speaks to Bogie's talent as a screen actor. As for Lizabeth Scott, it's hard to get a bead on her. Back in the day, she was poorly reviewed, often called wooden. I don't think that's true, but while her character shows warmth, Scott doesn't really seem at home in the femme fatale role. Like Rita Hayworth in The Lady from Shanghai, Lizabeth Scott's character does a total about face and revealed as the villain. As Scott's Coral is so languidly femme, she barely seems to possess the energy to be fatale! There’s no variety Scott’s performance, in her character’s behavior or revealed motives. Her voice is indeed husky, like Lauren Bacall, but Scott seems to have a lisp or slur. Every time she says yes as “yesh,” I thought of Carol Channing. While Lizabeth Scott is certainly attractive, there's an odd look to her, particularly in profile. Unfortunately for her, Scott became instantly typecast in these noirs and it shortened her career. 

Love, noir style! Tears and throat clutching, between endless cigarettes,
with Humphrey Bogart and Lizabeth Scott, in 1947's "Dead Reckoning."

John Cromwell's direction is adult and with some style, but there's only so much he can do with this story. The film really pushes the after-war bit. Bogie's "Rip" uses lots of nicknames or pet phrases relating to his stint in the military. By the end of the movie, so does his gal Coral Chandler. Bogie’s Rip also goes from instantly mistrusting Scott's Coral to falling instantly in love with her, which goes back and forth several times. And Rip’s takes on life and love are an eye roll, even for the era.

Lizabeth Scott as femme fatale Coral Chandler, gets a glam death scene, in 1947's
 "Dead Reckoning."

The supporting cast is adequate, but they're mostly stereotypes, and none of them really stood out for me; in Bogart’s same year Dark Passage, there were a number of standout supporting actors. Like Dark Passage, Dead Reckoning is quite watchable, but not the least bit credible, even on film noir terms.

Bogie & Bacall team for a WB film noir with a different vibe than Dead Reckoning, in 1947’s Dark Passage:

https://ricksrealreel.blogspot.com/2024/09/bogie-bacalls-chemistry-brings-depth-to.html

Despite the poster's tag line, Humphrey Bogart is the same Bogie from his other
film noirs. The difference is the husky-voiced blonde, Lizabeth Scott,
in 1947's "Dead Reckoning."

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.

Here's Bogie with another sultry blonde from the same year, my look at Dead Reckoning, with Lizabeth Scott: https://ricksrealreel.blogspot.com/2024/10/bogie-lizabeth-scott-in-derivative-dead.html

 

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

 

We'll Always Have 'Casablanca' 1942

'Casablanca' still casts its classic spell nearly 80 years later.

Critics and audiences still like to argue whether Casablanca is great art or merely great entertainment—let them, I say. Casablanca still captivates, no matter how you define the 1942 Warner Brothers’ war-time romance.

Bill Kennedy, movie host with the most!

I was junior high age when I first watched Casablanca on the late show. From where I sat on my plaid sofa, in 1970s Upper Michigan, it was just another dated war time romance: lots of air sirens, police whistles, patriotism, sneering Nazis, and brave Bogie and Bergman clutching one another in the face of danger.

A few years later, I watched Casablanca again on Detroit TV 50’s Bill Kennedy at the Movies. By then, I was hooked on classic Hollywood and much more impressed. Kennedy was as proud as a peacock whenever the one-time actor got to show and chat about a true blue classic like Casablanca. By high school graduation, I felt like Bill had been my favorite teacher—in film.

What set Casablanca apart from other exotic romances, especially the many cinema copycats to come, was the classic melodrama captured a time and place vital in American and world history. The U.S. had avoided getting into WWII, much like Rick/Bogart: “I stick my neck out for nobody.” 

Everyone comes to Rick's movie blog!

However, Pearl Harbor changed all that on Dec. 7, 1941. Casablanca was filmed the following year, in an atmosphere of uncertainty. Many of the supporting cast members were ex-pats and refugees from all over Europe, who had already suffered in varying degrees from the bulldozing Nazi regime. S.Z. “Cuddles” Sakall, who played Rick’s head waiter—and memorably taught Barbara Stanwyck to flip pancakes in Christmas in Connecticut—lost three sisters to the concentration camps. Cast member Helmut Dantine spent time in a concentration camp before escaping to the U.S.

The plot of Casablanca is a cliché: Resistance fighters are trying to move through Casablanca and not get caught in the occupied city’s Nazi web. It’s a serviceable but straight-forward framework.

The rest, however, is memorable. The studio system was at its peak and Warner Brothers’ best was rolled out for Casablanca: Michael Curtiz, the studio’s # 1 director; Hal Wallis, their most artistic producer; Humphrey Bogart, emerging as WB’s top actor; promising newcomer Ingrid Bergman, “borrowed” from David Selznick; the pick of the studio’s stock company of great character actors; a polished script with some of movies’ most memorable lines; cinematography that was both crisp and dreamlike, a dramatic Max Steiner score, and of course, the ultimate movie love song, As Time Goes By.

Bogart & Bergman in a flashback of happiness as Rick & Ilsa. They'll always have Paris & we'll always have 'Casablanca.'

 Casablanca was a hit, making a leading man out of character actor/movie villain Humphrey Bogart, at age 43. The following year, his new status was confirmed when 19-year-old Lauren Bacall became Bogie’s baby, onscreen and off, in To Have and Have Not. Casablanca cemented Swedish star Ingrid Bergman’s status as a Hollywood leading lady. Three Oscars were to come later for other performances, yet Ilsa is still Bergman’s signature role.

Bogart and Bergman as Rick and Ilsa (two-thirds of a triangle) are genuinely moving because their performances are realistic, as well as romantic. Can you imagine if MGM had made this with Clark Gable and Joan Crawford, with Gable’s bluster and Crawford’s posturing? They might have made Casablanca popular but not an enduring classic.

Some of the great WB cast of 'Casablanca.' Bogart & Bergman with Claude Rains & Paul Henreid.

For those who think Casablanca is just high-grade Hollywood fluff, watch To Have and Have Not. WB was hoping lightning would strike twice. While it was just as well-made and entertaining as Casablanca, To Have has none of its emotional resonance or depth.

Casablanca became Hollywood’s greatest wartime romance, with its notion of sacrifice in an uncertain world. The film and its classic love theme became a touchstone of a time and place, but also as a symbol of true romance.

Luminous Ingrid Bergman as Ilsa, her signature role IMO.

I recently watched Casablanca four decades later, on yet another plaid U.P. sofa. I was knocked out anew by the film’s genuine romanticism, since movies are typically filled with phony romance. Casablanca is fascinating because of its perfect counterpoints: Bergman’s dreamy close-ups to Bogart’s sharp tongue; the stars’ chemistry to a scene-stealing supporting cast; great dialogue to classic cinematic images; the booming Warners’ soundtrack to Wilson softly crooning As Time Goes By; and most of all, the genuinely romantic versus traditional happy ending.

At 43, Humphrey Bogart finally becomes a romantic leading man at Warner Brothers!

Casablanca proves that, to lift a lyric, audiences will always welcome lovers, like Rick and Ilsa, no matter how much time goes by.

FYI: I put all the movie overflow on my public FB  movie page. 

Check it out & join!  https://www.facebook.com/groups/178488909366865/

1942: The beginning of a beautiful friendship between "Casablanca" and audiences.