3-4. Claude Rains really makes the title character, as does the magnificent effects work, even when certain bits strain physical credulity (really, is he telekinetic?). The movie rather quickly takes on a minimal scope when the title character takes a single hostage, whose protection is the focus of the film. I'm back and forth on whether the movie's themes about corruption of scientific power land. But it's fun.
I've always been a Claude Rains fan--how can you not be? Rains and the original H.G. Wells source material are fantastic, the early special effects are entertaining, and Una O'Connor adds a spot of humor to the proceedings. Henry Travers (probably best known for his portrayal of Clarence Odbody in It's a Wonderful Life) also makes an appearance. This one's a lot of fun.
The more visible he becomes, the closer he comes to death. I love this movie for how irreverant it is about authority and the police; for how the main character is naked most of the time and constantly pointing it out; for how amazing the special effects are 83 years later. A wonderful movie
Como varios de los clásicos de horror de la Universal Pictures, todo inicia con un loco desquiciado obsesionado con algo, en este caso, el ser invisible. ¿De dónde proviene el pánico o el gran clímax de la película? El que un orate está suelto y es invisible. Aunque anticuado, los efectos de invisibilidad para este tiempo no eran grandes retos. Es por eso que la escena de una quijada invisible es la mejor de todas.
perhaps it was the early days of cinema business, but still... such an awful acting and awful editing. Almost ruined the whole thing, the imaginations, the ideas of paranoia and human identity. P.S: an extra star. I don't know is it a truth or just psychosomatic, but somehow that innocent, true passion of cinema-making still can be felt.
While the simple and blunt plot is meant to entertain, James Whale has something else up his sleeve: a gleefully macabre study of what Nietzsche called "superman"; someone society fears and destroys. Claude Rains is superb, intoning a performance based purely on voice inflection. And I can only imagine the sheer wonder 1933 audiences felt watching a man disappear in front of their very eyes. The power of cinema!
The style of acting in films is what really decides whether they date well or not, and "The Invisible Man" is creaky in places because of that; but the film remains hugely alluring because of Reins' gleeful rebellion against authority. Perhaps we love movies about (megalo)maniacs because deep down we believe their victims are getting what they deserve.