Any fan of classic movies must own a copy of this one, if only for Claude Rain's amazing performance. This man was brilliant in all of his films, but this slice of ham is truly high art from the Claudester. His character is an egotistical, sexy, hilarious conductor with the improbable name of Alex Hellonious. He spends his time lazing about in a dressing gown, petting a drugged kitty and taking biting innuendo and sarcasm to a level previously unseen on screen. No wonder Bette Davis was infatuated with this man. If his power in real life was 10% of what he exhibits on screen, then swooning is the definite order of the day.
In Deception, Rains plays Bette Davis' former lover and he won't let her forget it. Bette foolishly marries the dreary, deadly dull and insipid Paul Henreid, just as she did in Now, Voyager. One wonders why Bette was always making these ridiculous mistakes. She's still in love with Claude, however, since she makes two lengthy visits to his bedroom within one day of her wedding to Henreid. When she tells Rains, "it looks like you haven't been to bed," he snaps back, "That, my dear, is none of your concern any longer." Even more amazing is that the Hays office let some of this type of dialogue slip by unnoticed. Rarely has a film contained so many explicit sexual references and plot twists. When Bette visits Claude in his home while he's eating dinner, he says with devilish deliciousness, "Oh, my dear, you look ravishing. I think I'd better remain seated." It doesn't take an Einstein to figure out what he really meant. High camp indeed! There's another moment after Bette's marriage to Henreid that Claude is begging her to stay with him and keep their affair going. With a leering smile he says, "You can have us both, you know." Mr. Breen of the Hayes office was definitely asleep at the control panel when Warners pushed this baby through.
The highlight of the entire movie is a hilarious scene of 7 minutes in a restaurant. Claude orders and re-orders various ridiculously rich foods and says things like, "We'd like a brook trout, not too large. From a good stream." He also fusses endlessly over whether to order partridges with truffles or glazed partridges soaked in Madeira. He finally decides on a "woodcock!" Bette and Henreid look on with rueful expressions because this type of acting blows them out of the water. Truly, this is one of the most adroitly acted scenes in movie history and that's not hyperbole. There is an option of having additional commentary, and the fellow claims "Bette Davis allowed Mr. Rains to steal this scene." Pardon me, but as riveting as Bette was, there's no way she's going to eclipse Rains in any movie, as she herself freely admitted.
The film itself is fairly good but very dull when Henreid shows up, but you treasure this one for Claude Rains' performance. If there's been a better actor in movie history, I've never seen him.
In Deception, Rains plays Bette Davis' former lover and he won't let her forget it. Bette foolishly marries the dreary, deadly dull and insipid Paul Henreid, just as she did in Now, Voyager. One wonders why Bette was always making these ridiculous mistakes. She's still in love with Claude, however, since she makes two lengthy visits to his bedroom within one day of her wedding to Henreid. When she tells Rains, "it looks like you haven't been to bed," he snaps back, "That, my dear, is none of your concern any longer." Even more amazing is that the Hays office let some of this type of dialogue slip by unnoticed. Rarely has a film contained so many explicit sexual references and plot twists. When Bette visits Claude in his home while he's eating dinner, he says with devilish deliciousness, "Oh, my dear, you look ravishing. I think I'd better remain seated." It doesn't take an Einstein to figure out what he really meant. High camp indeed! There's another moment after Bette's marriage to Henreid that Claude is begging her to stay with him and keep their affair going. With a leering smile he says, "You can have us both, you know." Mr. Breen of the Hayes office was definitely asleep at the control panel when Warners pushed this baby through.
The highlight of the entire movie is a hilarious scene of 7 minutes in a restaurant. Claude orders and re-orders various ridiculously rich foods and says things like, "We'd like a brook trout, not too large. From a good stream." He also fusses endlessly over whether to order partridges with truffles or glazed partridges soaked in Madeira. He finally decides on a "woodcock!" Bette and Henreid look on with rueful expressions because this type of acting blows them out of the water. Truly, this is one of the most adroitly acted scenes in movie history and that's not hyperbole. There is an option of having additional commentary, and the fellow claims "Bette Davis allowed Mr. Rains to steal this scene." Pardon me, but as riveting as Bette was, there's no way she's going to eclipse Rains in any movie, as she herself freely admitted.
The film itself is fairly good but very dull when Henreid shows up, but you treasure this one for Claude Rains' performance. If there's been a better actor in movie history, I've never seen him.