La horrible pesadilla

This film literally illustrates that without expressionist shadows or dark, dreary streets, a film noir plot turns out more like a soap opera, no matter how dark the plot is. That doesn't take away from the nightmarish quality, however, as things go horribly wrong: betrayal, blackmail, disfigurement, murder. It is only because of this that the female lead becomes our heroine but her fairytale rebirth into beauty cannot erase her "guilt" of independence - as someone has already mentioned, the post-war message was encouraging women to return to the home. However, the film cannot indulge in grim fatalism either, preferring to be prescriptive rather than prohibitive, so it displays a 'whatif?' scenario, allowing for an upbeat ending. Philosophically it falls between the more contemporary sci-fi "Dark man," and the recent spanish fantasy "Open your eyes;" perhaps today these genres are the heirs of film noir.

The third noir from director Mann – after THE GREAT FLAMARION (1945; which I haven't seen) and the minor but not unentertaining TWO O'CLOCK COURAGE (1945) – also has some very welcome horror/sci-fi trappings that should endear it to fans of those kind of movies as well. Lovely blonde, bespectacled scientist Brenda Marshall (who, in real life, was Mrs. William Holden at the time) keeps postponing her marriage to colleague William Gargan because of her all-important experiments in anaesthesia, until one night her jealous assistant Hillary Brooke contrives to overdo the mixture causing an explosion in the vicinity of Marshall (who is out cold) that leaves her facially scarred. More treachery from the two-faced Brooke manages to bar Gargan from visiting the hospitalized Marshall which leads to their breaking off the engagement. A slight traffic accident on the night of the explosion has also put a blackmailing woman and a snooping lawyer in Marshall's path but, seeing the former fall to her death from the apartment window after a tussle, gives her a new lease on life which enables her to change identities with the dead woman and perform plastic surgery (courtesy of surgeon H.B. Warner). Adopting the facial features of the blackmailer (including shedding her glasses and dying her hair black), she introduces herself to Gargan and Brooke as her own school-friend from chemistry class and is soon employed by the former as his personal aide! In the meantime, Brooke starts looking into this intruder's past and, confronting Marshall with her contradictory findings, is shocked when her new rival reveals she is the old one in disguise, after all. On the other hand, the obnoxious lawyer is still on Marshall's trail and, in fact, almost gets her convicted for her own murder when Brooke refuses to corroborate her story about who she really is! The climatic interrogation sequence is where Mann lets all the expressionistic stops out…until the unexpected (and unwarranted) end revelation that it has all been the heroine's nightmare!! That the film succeeds as much as it does in spite of the meager cast, inexistent production values and cop-out finale is a tribute to the mastery of a film-maker who is just finding a firm footing in a genre he will be making his own in the following year or two.

This early Anthony Mann film starts off most promisingly with tracking shots in the lecture theatre (of the Mindred Lord Institute yet!), mirror shots in the laboratory and a marvelous overhead shot of a flashing hotel neon sign and George Chandler sitting on a fire hydrant on the pavement below. After another wonderful mirror shot in Brenda Marshall's apartment, she and William Gargan walk on to the balcony and it is at this point that the film begins to fall apart. The script takes on the plotting and dialogue of some stupid dime-store novelette for mentally backward adolescents and the direction becomes astonishingly routine, with long, static takes and interminable close-ups and two-shots of the unattractive principals (even Hillary Brooke looks unattractive in the costumes, make-up and lighting of this film). The mirror motif is lost sight of altogether, until just before the plastic surgery sequence when the film comes to life for a few more moments (the table lamp lighting Marshall's face from below, the struggle, the escape, the surgery), wanes for a stretch, surges to life for a few more moments (the interrogation) and then is extinguished forever by a poor conclusion. Brenda Marshall brings little distinction to her dual role, Miss Brooke is not much better and Gargan is about as welcome as rain at a school picnic. The support cast, headed by George Chandler of all people, is more interesting.

"You cannot escape the person you are," says plastic surgeon H.B.Warner, holding up a bony finger. Nevertheless, leading lady Brenda Marshall tries, which puts her in the postwar vanguard of stars doing identity switches [see Bogart in DARK PASSAGE and Stanwyck in NO MAN OF HER OWN]. The script also stirs in elements from A WOMAN'S FACE, plus a dash of mad-scientist hubris, then shakes it into a film noir cocktail.

Marshall plays a research chemist who tries an experimental anesthetic on herself ["nothing can go wrong"], but ends up disfigured, then takes on the identity of extortionist bad girl Ruth Ford. The switch involves several plastic surgery montages, but mostly results in a new coif, a dark rinse, and make-up adjustments.

The plot also plays out the popular postwar subtext of Send-Rosie-the-Riveter-Back-to-the-Kitchen: when scientific professional Marshall turns down a marriage proposal in favor of finishing her own work, she suffers for it at the hands of scheming Hillary Brooke, and then has to fight to get another chance at that marriage ring. This conventional message is somewhat at war with the subversive noir style, but this script includes: the unsuspected hostile motives of a friend, the nightmare chain of events, and the police station third-degree. The novelty here is the woman protagonist, who herself shifts into a femme fatale. In fact, the film centers on a trio of femmes fatales: Marshall and Brooke and Ford. The man involved is William Gargan, relaxed and charming, so hardly an homme fatal.

Republic's studio style-- aimed at simple feel-good entertainment, with invariably stodgy decor---was not exactly a natural home for noir. However, Anthony Mann delivers lean direction, with exceptionally fluid camerawork, some striking high and low angles, and smart playing from all [poor Marshall has to spend a good half-hour with her face wrapped up in bandages]. However, a few years later Mann worked out the situation-- two women tussling over a man--more pointedly, and with lots more shadows, in the superior RAW DEAL.

Does there exist a male baby boomer who grew up watching reruns of "The Abbott and Costello Show" during the 1950s and early '60s who was able to resist falling in love with Hillary Brooke? With her sexy blond good looks and sweet demeanor, no wonder Lou and all the other guys had a major "thing" for her. Viewers may be surprised to learn, however, that before "The A&C Show," Hillary excelled at portraying so-called "bad girls," as the 1946 potboiler "Strange Impersonation" so amply demonstrates. Here, she plays the assistant to anesthesia researcher Brenda Marshall (herself so memorable in one of my Top 10 films of all time, the 1940 remake of "The Sea Hawk"), as well as the best friend from hell. Hillary sabotages one of Marshall's experiments, leading to an explosive fire and the disfigurement of her boss. She then goes about stealing Marshall's fiancé, leading to a twisty story involving betrayal, plastic surgery, murder, blackmail and identity theft. All this in a brief 68 minutes, and topped with a surprise ending that some may find cheap, but that surprisingly explains away the many plot loopholes, inconsistencies and implausibilities that have preceded it; an ending, in addition, that is wholly earned and was set up in the film's opening moments. Yes, this IS another B cheapie made on the quick by Republic Studios, but it certainly is fun. And need I even mention that it is a must for all fans of Hillary Brooke?