La senda tenebrosa

Bogart's third teaming with Lauren Bacall was in "Dark Passage," a murder-mystery film which depended upon contrivances rather than good scripting to see it through…

The film opened with the use of a subjective camera (MGM used it throughout their "Lady in the Lake" that same year) with Bogart's off-camera narration establishing the plot as we watch our hero escape from prison with the intent of finding the real murderer of his wife, the crime for which he had been wrongfully jailed…

Once he meets up with Bacall and goes to a plastic surgeon, the subjective camera is forgotten as Bogart now utilizes his own face and carries on the investigation…

"Dark Passage" was energetically directed and written by Delmer Daves who used some atmospheric location shots in San Francisco to underscore his drama… The film included an unusual number of bizarre and eccentric characters, all competently played…

Agnes Moorehead essayed a superb1y schizoid characterization as a bitchy "friend" of Bogart and his dead wife… Bacall showed definite signs of improvement in her acting and Bogart was properly bitter, sour and nonplussed…

For all practical purposes, this film marked the conclusion of Bogart's famous "image" period… Now he was to forsake his romantic leading-man roles for acting assignments which he hoped would raise him to greater heights as a performer… He was to succeed, in many cases, magnificently

Bogey is an escaped prisoner. Bacall helps him stay escaped. To maintain his anonymity he has a face-change operation.

It is a gimmick film, but the gimmick doesn't just serve its own purpose - it highlights a theme of faces, and what faces tell you about the person beneath.

You can tell when something is being explored onscreen for the first time - its done more thoroughly and more excitedly than it ever will again. Think back to that first film about the phenomenon of email (Disclosure) or the internet (The Net), or what about the first film exploring chronology-changes (Citizen Kane) or hide-the-protagonist (The Third Man), or the excitement of acting (Streetcar Named Desire). That initial excitement is never really matched again - after that it becomes just another device, or a reference. The thing here is partly first-person narration (this came out the same year as Lady in the Lake), but wholly plastic surgery, the idea of changing your appearance.

First-person narration is actually quite rare in cinema. Lady in the Lake is one of the only examples where they stick with it for an entire picture, resorting to gimmicks like having Robert Montgomery looking in a mirror. Its used to great effect in the first half of Dark Passage, in order to hide Bogart's face. It was partly mechanical. Its a face-change movie. Instead of starting with Bogart and changing his face to a different actor, they wanted to pretend he looked like a different person (which we only see in a few photographs), and then after the operation he just looks like Bogart. But what the device of hiding his face does is create suspense, and focus on the issue of faces, which is a recurring theme throughout.

And it works to the positive for this film: what's the best way to hide someone's face? Put us behind their eyes! You never see your own face unless you're looking in the mirror. So until his operation, we see through Bogey's eyes - and the result is quite cinematic. It really frees up the movie, unshackling it from the static trappings of most studio pictures of this era. Instead of us just looking on from the edge of a set, which ends up looking like a stage, we're really taken into the action - its marvellous!

And, to save the best till last - Bacall absolutely burns up the screen in this. She sets the celluloid on fire. Any single shot of her in this movie is magic. Just being onscreen and being magic, its the definition of the X-factor.

9/10. What a star-vehicle for Bogey. This was his Third Man. And Bacall is sensational!

Sadly, or perhaps not, most condemned prisoners do not have a dame, a dude, and a plastic surgeon around to break their falls when they escape. But when Bogart busts out of the big house, San Quentin, the Good Samaritans start popping up like dandelions. His method of escape is to throw himself down a steep incline in a steel barrel. The cameraman rides tandem and becomes his eyes and point-of-view. Bogart hitches a ride with a nosy fellow I've seen before in the movies. He has deep-set eyes and a divot in his chin. Bogart quickly dispatches the mug to dreamland and ventures out into an uncertain landscape of creeps and coppers. Instead, Bogart catches a break: he discovers he has a groupie played by Lauren Bacall. She is out painting landscapes when she hears the bulletin over the radio. She knows everything about his case. She even sat in the courtroom during his trial. She felt he got a raw deal. The dude he meets is a close friend who plays the horn. He allows Bogart safe haven to rest. Incredibly, Bogart steps into the cab of yet another sympathetic character. The cabbie guides him to a doctor who wields a wild scalpel. Bogart's ex-flame also knows Bacall--and is a royal pain in the neck. The coincidences pile up higher than The Golden Gate Bridge. Bogie and Bacall may have more well known films on their resumes, but this one will keep a big fat smile on your face.

An escaped convict (Humphrey Bogart) undergoes plastic surgery and hides out with a pretty young woman (Lauren Bacall) while he tries to figure out who murdered his wife, the crime for which he was convicted. Excellent film noir written and directed by Delmer Daves with beautiful photography by Sid Hickox. It's the last film Bogie and Bacall did together and it's easily the most underrated of the four. Both are terrific here and have that same wonderful chemistry we all love, albeit with less sexy banter than their previous movies together. The real scene-stealer of the picture is Agnes Moorehead, who gets the juiciest role and one awesome scene in particular. Tom D'Andrea has a great bit as a talkative cabby and there are several other fine character actors in small roles.

The first forty minutes or so is filmed mostly from a first person point-of-view. We don't see Bogart's face until over an hour in, after his character has had plastic surgery. A pretty gutsy move at the time to have your big star, Humphrey Bogart, heard but not seen for such a large chunk of the movie. But it's so well-done and effective, it's probably my favorite portion of the film. Another favorite part is a little bit of business referring to a famous line of Bogie's from a past film. That sort of thing is commonplace today but wasn't then. It's a funny part in a terrific script by Daves. The movie does meander some, usually for little moments with side characters. While many of these scenes aren't necessarily needed they add something extra to the picture that I enjoyed. Definitely a must-see for Bogie fans.

Set in San Francisco, "Dark Passage" stars Humphrey Bogart as an escaped convict who was found guilty of killing his wife, and Lauren Bacall, as the woman who helps him.

The Bogart character knows someone framed him for the murder and is desperate to get away from the police. To accomplish this, with the help of a chatty cab driver (Tom D'Andrea), he has his face changed by plastic surgery.

Though Bogart's distinctive voice is present throughout, the first part of the film uses the subjective camera, a la "Lady of the Lake." In "Lady of the Lake," the camera was at all sorts of odd angles and at one point, focused on a mirror where the viewer could see the face of Robert Montgomery.

In this film, the camera is less obtrusive. Either that, or because it's an icon like Bogart, the viewer pictures him even though he's not on camera. After the plastic surgery, Bogart is revealed.

The plot is okay, but it's really an excuse for great chemistry between the two stars, a rich atmosphere, and some wonderful cinematography. The idea of loneliness is everywhere; it's in the bus station, it's in the isolated way that the Bacall character lives. And it's also about taking a chance and reaching out.

Bogart gives a strong and honest performance, putting his presence to good use as he dominates the film even when only his voice is used.

Bacall is at the height of her sultry beauty, with her luxurious hair framing a perfect bone structure, pouty lips, and sensuous eyes. She is absolutely fantastic to look at and listen to, and she imbues the role with vulnerability as well as a feeling of cold isolation and the loneliness she feels.

The supercouple gets wonderful support from Tom D'Andrea, the Gillis of the Riley series I grew up with, Agnes Moorhead as a nasty friend of Bacall's, Bruce Bennett, and Houseley Stevenson as the excellent but borderline maniacal plastic surgeon. One almost expected thunder and lightning after he spoke.

Very entertaining, highly recommended, and I loved the ending.