Late for Halloween - The Invisible Man

In On the Uncanny Delights of the The Invisible Man Olivia Rutigliano praises one of my favorite  movies and one of my most favorite actors.

The actor? Claude Rains, of course. He who improves every movie he is in. Who as a better Prince John in any Robin Hood movie? Without him, Casablanca is just another war movie.

Claude Rains, a well-respected stage actor at the age of forty-four, made his film debut as Griffin. Logically, Rains is barely seen in the film. Griffin covers his face in bandages and dons layers of clothing to make his figure visible to those around him; to make himself invisible, he removes all of that fabric. The invisibility effects were achieved by having Rains wear clingy black fabric over his skin and perform in front of a matching matte black background. Whatever clothes he wore on top appeared to be moving all by themselves. These scenes were then composited onto the shots of the sets with the reacting actors. And for these scenes, Rains provided Griffin’s speech (and trademark maniacal laughter) through voiceover. This means that for the entire film, Rains performs while thoroughly concealed. And yet, he makes an enormous impression.

As Griffin, Rains is a delightfully sinister loose cannon, rolling his “r”s and pronouncing each and every syllable of his dialogue devilishly and deliciously (in a manner which calls to mind the elocutonary styles of Vincent Price, Rains’s contemporary in film but only as a background actor; he had not found his way to horror yet, as Rains had). For a figure who is technically visually absent, Rains’s presence is solid and powerful.

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Whale’s film is less concerned with proposing scientific possibilities, leaning into the drama of the story. The thesis of the film is uttered by a police officer to his crew of many uniformed constables: “We’ve got a terrible responsibility. He’s mad, and he’s invisible.” There’s something to be said for that kind of straightforwardness. It’s easy for Universal Studios’s horror movies of the 1930s to seem neutered in their menace by the simple passing of time; as much as I love Tod Browning’s 1931 Dracula and James Whale’s 1931 Frankenstein (and the actors who played the monsters in those films, Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff), those movies do feel very wedded to their specific cultural moments. But, perhaps because of Rains’s commanding performance or the no-frills danger of the plot or even the impressiveness of the special effects, I find The Invisible Man very effective, even in a way that passes for modern. A 2020 remake, written and directed by Leigh Whannell, which casts the action in a shade of #MeToo is a literal modernization of the story, but that only further nods to the timelessness of the original story, altogether.

But if you’re going to watch a movie, this Halloween season (or really any other season), make it this tidy little treat from 1933. Running an hour and 11 minutes, but packed with dazzling effects and propelled by a powerhouse performance by Rains, it’s a wonderful demonstration of the, well… I’ll just say it, magic of movies.

Yes, watchable at all times.

sch 11/1