Dead Ringer (1964)
From that crazy, Gothic, overblown, fabulous last decade of Bette Davis's career, another wild one. And we get not one, but two Davis characters, twins, and the scenes where they are both shown (seamlessly) it's a kind of Bette Davis gluttony. Luckily, she's a great actress, and she pulls makes the melodrama burn. The movie makes no secret of being over the top, the plot outrageous and engaging enough to pull along all the other unlikely and exaggerated scenes.
The weakest link here is possibly the direction, under actor Paul Henreid's hand (most famous as the second male lead in Casablanca). As amazing as the plot is by nature (filled with double-crossing treachery and murder), it actually drags a little at times. But not for long. The cinematography is really amazing (the great Ernst Haller at work--he did so many truly stellar movies it's breathtaking), amazing enough to study, the camera arcing around a stairway, or playing with the light turning on and off. The music is an odd mix--the harpsichord jingles are both perfect in setting a creepy mood and tacky for seeming to cheapen the drama--and it's classical conductor Andre Previn (Mia Farrow's onetime-husband) in charge. But counteracting this is some great funky early sixties organ jazz in a few scenes (the two performers are uncredited), what you might expect from a Sam Fuller movie.
As awesome as this movie seems as a bit of delicious excess, something to roar about, eyes glued to the visuals, it's also a little awkward, just a shade. Like Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte, The Nanny, and What Ever Happened to Baby Jane, it's in the pantheon of cult Bette Davis movies, an early 1960s attempt to keep both her career and the old-fashioned Hollywood drama alive. It manages to do both.
From that crazy, Gothic, overblown, fabulous last decade of Bette Davis's career, another wild one. And we get not one, but two Davis characters, twins, and the scenes where they are both shown (seamlessly) it's a kind of Bette Davis gluttony. Luckily, she's a great actress, and she pulls makes the melodrama burn. The movie makes no secret of being over the top, the plot outrageous and engaging enough to pull along all the other unlikely and exaggerated scenes.
The weakest link here is possibly the direction, under actor Paul Henreid's hand (most famous as the second male lead in Casablanca). As amazing as the plot is by nature (filled with double-crossing treachery and murder), it actually drags a little at times. But not for long. The cinematography is really amazing (the great Ernst Haller at work--he did so many truly stellar movies it's breathtaking), amazing enough to study, the camera arcing around a stairway, or playing with the light turning on and off. The music is an odd mix--the harpsichord jingles are both perfect in setting a creepy mood and tacky for seeming to cheapen the drama--and it's classical conductor Andre Previn (Mia Farrow's onetime-husband) in charge. But counteracting this is some great funky early sixties organ jazz in a few scenes (the two performers are uncredited), what you might expect from a Sam Fuller movie.
As awesome as this movie seems as a bit of delicious excess, something to roar about, eyes glued to the visuals, it's also a little awkward, just a shade. Like Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte, The Nanny, and What Ever Happened to Baby Jane, it's in the pantheon of cult Bette Davis movies, an early 1960s attempt to keep both her career and the old-fashioned Hollywood drama alive. It manages to do both.