The postwar interest in Freudianism (probably precipitated by returning veterans suffering from shell-shock) was, in Hollywood, put to facile and often sinister ends. The Dark Mirror is no exception, despite the talents of scriptwriter Nunnally Johnson and director Robert Siodmak. Simply put, De Havilland plays a woman and her "evil" twin (though they use the word "insane"). When it's first revealed, in the investigation of a murder, that the two (Ruth and Terry) are dead ringers, the orchestral score chortles with little musical jokes at the expense of police detective Thomas Mitchell (who is wasted). Luckily the tone darkens towards the middle of the movie and De Havilland rises from blandness to effective histrionics -- could she scowl! -- at least in her evil incarnation. Inadvertently amusing are the name-necklaces and monogram pins the twins sport, undoubtedly to orient the audience. These big-city dames traipse around like high-school girls, lugging huge "T"s and "R"s on their tailored suits.
Review of The Dark Mirror
