La cicatriz

An escaped robber named Johnny Muller (Paul Henreid) in a desperate attempt to hide from the hired killers chasing after him decides to take the place of a look-a-like psychoanalyst named Dr. Bartok. The only difference is a scar Bartok has on his face...Johnny carries out his plan with surprisingly success except for one small detail. Along the way to becoming Dr. Bartok, Johnny meets and unexpectedly falls in love with Bartok's secretary Evelyn, who has lost faith in mankind, in one of the greatest film noir romances ever put to film.

The best thing about this unlikely Film Noir film is its superb ending...with the close-up on Evelyn's face at the end and an ending we are aware of but she is not.

I like Paul Henreid, and Joan Bennett does a fine job in this film, but please, one can only suspend disbelief for so long. There are enough holes in this plot to fill a golf course. An ex-con plans a robbery of a mob casino, and the robbery goes awry. Now, he must try to get away from the mob. So far, so good. Then the film goes off the deep end; I mean the deep end as in the Pacific Ocean.

I will not reveal the complications and plot, as they are too fantastic for any rational person to swallow. An eight-ounce horse pill would be easier to swallow. Suffice it to say that the attempt is fascinating, and responsible for the 6 star rating; however, is it believable? Not in the slightest.

Yes, "Hollow Triumph" or "The Scar" is a very fine example of film noir. It is tough, gritty, full of duplicity, and identities that shift across screen time. But what really makes this film sing is the vivid low-key photography of John Alton. Yes, perhaps Sekely deserves some credit, but the look is all Alton. "HT" is shot the same year (1948) as two other excellently lensed films by Alton -- "Amazing Mr. X" and "He Walked By Night." Dark sets lit with single light sources, bizarre angles and strong uses of deep focus compositions characterize Alton's work. Alton knew well how to get along with less light, creating the nightmarish worlds we see on the screen. This film's look reminds me of another great noir work -- Welles' 1958 "Touch of Evil" shot by Metty. But as I think of the two cinematographers, Alton seemed to best encapsulate the noir look -- seamy, wet, claustrophobic and dead-ended.

Of worthy mention here too, is: Henreid repeating the cigarette motif we saw earlier in "Now, Voyager," but here given a chain-smoking mania of its own, suggestive of insecurity and metaphoric of his attempts to "cloak" his identity, to shape-shift like a cloud of smoke into something new.

I'm commenting here only about some of the rather silly comments expressed elsewhere about Paul Henreid. First of all, he wasn't "Hungarian/French/American", but Austrian/American, born a member of the Austrian nobility in Trieste and raised in Vienna. His original name was too long to reproduce here, but he first acted under the name of Paul von Hernreid. Several have mentioned his THICK accent, but he has almost no accent at all in most of the film, and what accent remains is so light as to be indeterminable (almost the kind of Continental European accent one can hear in Audrey Hepburn's speech when she's not making a determined effort to speak English with no accent at all); whatever the accent may be, it is certainly not "thick"! And his brother in the film is played by American Edward Franz, who very often played roles in which he had no definable accent but seemed to be speaking with one just the same(!). That is pretty much the way I heard him in this film, too. Others claim Henreid was trying to change his good-guy image, but he had already done that several times in films, most especially as Nazis in two English-made films (one of which being the quite notable NIGHT TRAIN TO MUNICH) prior to arriving in the U.S., and concurrently with this film he appeared in ROPE OF SAND as one of the most despicable villains of the late 1940s (at one point, he blinds Burt Lancaster by forcing his head into the sand, and then tries to run over him with a truck!). As with at least a few of the commentators, I usually find that Henreid lacks a certain amount of star charisma, but he seems to have more of it in this film than in any other of the thirty or so films I've seen him in. Ironically, it is in what is probably his least-known starring role effort. Too bad.

Paul Henreid is in every single scene of this movie, and it's hard not to think of him in his most famous role, and to impose that image onto this picture. Henreid's thick accent is a distraction that really robs this movie of some of its charm.

But, the plot twists make up for everything. One takes place in a photo shop, and its significance is immediately apparent. The other is the ending which caught me totally by surprise. I can't say anymore for fear of spoiling it for those who haven't seen it, but I will pause to note how no other commentator here has bothered to note the *irony* of how Laszlo .. er Muller .. er Bartok met his end.

Joan Bennett is terrific here, as a cynical, vulnerable, rather sarcastic secretary who shows herself to be an astute judge of character, though not as hard-hearted as she'd have us believe. Leslie Brooks .. the exquisitely eye-lined Leslie Brooks .. is wasted here.

This is a tedious, hum-drum movie except in the moments when Henreid and Bennett are together on screen, but that wonderful ending is one of the best you'll ever see. 7 out of 10.