Dead Ringer is one of those rare cinematic pleasures, A movie that can be relished on so many levels that the category Noir Horror can barely contain its glory.
Twin Movie. Naturally Dead Ringer this isn’t Bette’s first twin movie (who cares about the first one). And, to make it even better, both twins are “Eeeevil”.
Campy juxapositions: One twin lives in Greystone Mansion in Los Angeles while the other operates a trashy gin joint. One twin wears cocktail dresses all day long dripping with jewels vs. one in cleaning lady attire and a bozo wig.
Peter Lawford stretches himself as sleazy Playboy.
Best Supporting performance by a Cigarette: Notice how Bette needs no words to get her point across. Only a cigarette. It huffs! It puffs!! It suffers a violent end in an ashtray or under a high heeled foot! And, Paul Henried is there behind the scenes directing the cigarettes performance — how trashtastic is that!
Drink to Favorite Bette Manorism. Eye Pops. Eye Rolls. Eye pop and roll. Arm Flails. Words beginning in “E” heeved with an exquisite flourish: “Eeeedith, . . .Eeeeevil” On second thought this could get sloppy.