- Claude Rains - Image courtesy nndb.com
When in 1933 Universal came to film H.G. Wells ’ science fiction tale The Invisible Man, the need arose for an actor capable of conveying the obsessive, increasingly deranged character of scientist Jack Griffin almost entirely on the strength of his vocal talents. In effect, the part called for a bravura radio performance. Boris Karloff was initially announced — somewhat ironically, since his impact in Frankenstein was chiefly visual. But a contractual dispute, along with director James Whale’s own preference, saw the role go instead to another compatriot, an accomplished stage actor already in his forties, yet a virtual newcomer to motion pictures.
Teaching Gielgud, Laughton, Olivier
The son of an impoverished jack-of-all trades who was himself a sometime actor, London-born William Claude Rains (1889-1967), had been treading the boards since boyhood. Originally hampered by a strong Cockney accent, the young Rains found a mentor in distinguished actor-manager Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree, who paid for elocution lessons. In later years, Rains himself would go on to teach elocution, instructing the likes of Gielgud, Laughton and Olivier at RADA.
After a brief spell in the US, Rains returned to Britain for war service, then resumed his acting career. Determined to prove that his small stature would not limit his success, he cultivated a sense of personal style that would serve him very well indeed when he crossed the Atlantic again. His first brush with cinema came during the silent era, with a minor film part in 1920.
From Broadway to Hollywood
The ensuing decade saw him graduate to leading roles on Broadway. Following the example of actors like Edward G. Robinson, who had sustained their careers during the Depression by making a successful transition to Hollywood, Rains did a screen test for RKO. However, he failed to temper his stage technique for the camera, and the results impressed no one.
Universal and James Whale
Fortunately Universal's star director, James Whale, was already acquainted with the actor’s capabilities, and Rains found himself lending his cultured tones to that sinister figure who peels off his covering of bandages to become an animated, mischief-making shirt, and then just a set of footprints.
Rains was marvellous in the role, whether casually disposing of a policeman — “I think I’ll throttle you” — or expounding his philosophy of terrorism — “A few murders here and there, murders of great men, murders of little men, just to show we make no distinction” — his expressive voice proving more than equal to the demands placed upon it.
Robin Hood and Mr Smith
Allegedly considered for the part of the eccentric Dr Pretorius in The Bride of Frankenstein (1935) — a scene-stealing turn by Ernest Thesiger — Rains starred that year in Universal’s adaptation of the unfinished Charles Dickens novel, The Mystery of Edwin Drood. The second half of the decade gave him other roles of note, including Prince John — one half of a sublimely villainous duopoly with Basil Rathbone — in The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938), and the devious Senator Joseph Paine in Mr Smith Goes to Washington (1939). A more sympathetic part was that of the father of the unfortunate Wolf Man (1941).
Casablanca, Bogart and Bette Davis
Perhaps the most iconic Rains character of all, though, is morally ambiguous French police captain Louis Renault in Casablanca (1942). Urbanity personified — “I’m only a poor corrupt official” — and venturing no closer to a Gallic accent than would Patrick Stewart’s Jean-Luc Picard of Star Trek (or for that matter, Bogart in Passage to Marseille), Rains effortlessly holds his own amid one of the finest supporting casts ever assembled in Hollywood.
At Warners, Rains established a fine working relationship with frequent co-star Bette Davis. In Now, Voyager (1942), perhaps the supreme example of the “woman’s picture”, he provides rock-solid support as Dr Jaquith, the kindly psychatrist who facilitates mousy spinster Charlotte Vale’s transformation into glamorous woman of the world.
Postwar Highlights — Bernard Shaw, Alfred Hitchcock, David Lean
After a trip to England to star in Gabriel Pasca l’s ambitious production of Caesar and Cleopatra (1945), from the George Bernard Shaw play, Rains delivered another exquisite supporting job in Hitchcock’s Notorious (1946). He also appeared in David Lean’s The Passionate Friends (1949), lent a touch of class to the Robert Mitchum noir Where Danger Lives (1950) and headlined a 1952 adaptation of Georges Simenon ’s The Man Who Watched Trains Go By.
The 1950s saw Rains busy on the small screen. Prominent film roles in the latter part of his career included Professor Challenger in The Lost World (1960), diplomat Dryden in Lawrence of Arabia (1962), and King Herod in biblical extravaganza The Greatest Story Ever Told (1965).
The Real Claude Rains
In reality, Rains was a complex man with an unsettled personal life — he married six times — and, as a character, remains somewhat enigmatic. His refined, polished screen image owed more to stagecraft than family background. Yet all of that was of little consequence in the cinema, where his presence could elevate an indifferent film or nudge a good one toward greatness.
Sources
- Nollen, Scott Allen, Boris Karloff: A Critical Account of His Screen, Stage, Radio, Television and Recording Work, McFarland & Company, Inc., 1991
- Skal, David J & Rains, Jessica, Claude Rains: An Actor’s Voice, The University Press of Kentucky, 2008
- Soister, John T & Wioskowski, JoAnna, Claude Rains: A Comprehensive Illustrated Reference to his Work in Film, Stage, Radio, Television and Recordings, McFarland, 1999
Richard Raymond - I've also written novels and film & TV scripts. My science fiction e-novel Dreambox Junkies is available from US online publisher ...
