Claude Rains(1889-1967)
- Actor
- Additional Crew
- Soundtrack
William Claude Rains, born in the Clapham area of London, was the
son of the British stage actor Frederick Rains. The younger Rains
followed, making his stage debut at the age of eleven in "Nell of Old
Drury." Growing up in the world of theater, he saw not only acting up
close but the down-to-earth business end as well, progressing from a
page boy to a stage manager during his well-rounded learning
experience. Rains decided to come to America in 1913 and the New York
theater, but with the outbreak of World War I the next year, he
returned to serve with a Scottish regiment in Europe. He remained in
England, honing his acting talents, bolstered with instruction
patronized by the founder of the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts,
Herbert Beerbohm Tree. It
was not long before his talent garnered him acknowledgment as one of
the leading stage actors on the London scene. His one and only silent
film venture was British with a small part for him, the forgettable --
Build Thy House (1920).
In the meantime, Rains was in demand as acting teacher as well, and he
taught at the Royal Academy. Young and eager
Laurence Olivier and
John Gielgud were perhaps his best known
students. Rains did return to New York in 1927 to begin what would be
nearly 20 Broadway roles. While working for the Theater Guild, he was
offered a screen test with Universal Pictures in 1932. Rains had a
unique and solid British voice-deep, slightly rasping -- but richly
dynamic. And as a man of small stature, the combination was immediately
intriguing. Universal was embarking on its new-found role as horror
film factory, and they were looking for someone unique for their next
outing,
The Invisible Man (1933). Rains
was the very man. He took the role by the ears, churning up a rasping
malice and volume in his voice to achieve a bone chilling persona of
the disembodied mad doctor. He could also throw out a high-pitched
maniac laugh that would make you leave the lights on before going to
bed. True to Universal's formula mentality, it cast him in similar
roles through 1934 with some respite in more diverse film roles -- and
further relieved by Broadway roles (1933, 1934) for the remainder of
his contract. By 1936, he was at Warner Bros. with its ambitious
laundry list of literary epics in full swing. His acting was superb,
and his eyes could say as much as his voice. And his mouth could take
on both a forbidding scowl and the warmest of smiles in an instant. His
malicious, gouty Don Luis in
Anthony Adverse (1936) was
inspired. After a shear lucky opportunity to dispatch his young wife's
lover, Louis Hayward, in a duel, he
triumphs over her in a scene with derisive, bulging eyes and that high
pitched laugh -- with appropriate shadow and light backdrop -- that is
unforgettable.
He was kept very busy through the remainder of the 1930s with a mix of
benign and devious historical, literary, and contemporary characters
always adapting a different nuance -- from murmur to growl -- of that
voice to become the person. He culminated the decade with his complex,
ethics-tortured Senator "Joe" Paine in
Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939).
That year he became an American citizen. Into the 1940s, Rains had
risen to perhaps unique stature: a supporting actor who had achieved
A-list stardom -- almost in a category by himself. His some 40 films
during that period ranged from subtle comedy to psychological drama
with a bit of horror revisited; many would be golden era classics. He
was the firm but thoroughly sympathetic Dr. Jaquith in
Now, Voyager (1942) and the smoothly
sardonic but engaging Capt. Louis Renault -- perhaps his best known
role -- in Casablanca (1942). He was
the surreptitiously nervous and malignant Alexander Sebastian in
Notorious (1946) and the egotistical
and domineering conductor Alexander Hollenius in
Deception (1946). He was the disfigured
Phantom of the Opera (1943)
as well. He played opposite the challenging
Bette Davis in three movies through the
decade and came out her equal in acting virtuosity. He was nominated
four times for the Best Supporting Actor Oscar -- but incredibly never
won. With the 1950s the few movies left to an older Rains were
countered by venturing into new acting territory -- television. His
haunted, suicidal writer Paul DeLambre in the mountaineering adventure
The White Tower (1950), though a
modest part, was perhaps the most vigorously memorable film role of his
last years. He made a triumphant Broadway return in 1951's "Darkness at
Noon."
Rains embraced the innovative TV playhouse circuit with nearly 20
roles. As a favored 'Alfred Hitchcock' alumnus, he starred in five
Alfred Hitchcock Presents (1955)
suspense dramas into the 1960s. And he did not shy away from episodic
TV either with some memorable roles that still reflected the power of
Claude Rains as consummate actor -- for many, first among peers with
that hallowed title.
son of the British stage actor Frederick Rains. The younger Rains
followed, making his stage debut at the age of eleven in "Nell of Old
Drury." Growing up in the world of theater, he saw not only acting up
close but the down-to-earth business end as well, progressing from a
page boy to a stage manager during his well-rounded learning
experience. Rains decided to come to America in 1913 and the New York
theater, but with the outbreak of World War I the next year, he
returned to serve with a Scottish regiment in Europe. He remained in
England, honing his acting talents, bolstered with instruction
patronized by the founder of the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts,
Herbert Beerbohm Tree. It
was not long before his talent garnered him acknowledgment as one of
the leading stage actors on the London scene. His one and only silent
film venture was British with a small part for him, the forgettable --
Build Thy House (1920).
In the meantime, Rains was in demand as acting teacher as well, and he
taught at the Royal Academy. Young and eager
Laurence Olivier and
John Gielgud were perhaps his best known
students. Rains did return to New York in 1927 to begin what would be
nearly 20 Broadway roles. While working for the Theater Guild, he was
offered a screen test with Universal Pictures in 1932. Rains had a
unique and solid British voice-deep, slightly rasping -- but richly
dynamic. And as a man of small stature, the combination was immediately
intriguing. Universal was embarking on its new-found role as horror
film factory, and they were looking for someone unique for their next
outing,
The Invisible Man (1933). Rains
was the very man. He took the role by the ears, churning up a rasping
malice and volume in his voice to achieve a bone chilling persona of
the disembodied mad doctor. He could also throw out a high-pitched
maniac laugh that would make you leave the lights on before going to
bed. True to Universal's formula mentality, it cast him in similar
roles through 1934 with some respite in more diverse film roles -- and
further relieved by Broadway roles (1933, 1934) for the remainder of
his contract. By 1936, he was at Warner Bros. with its ambitious
laundry list of literary epics in full swing. His acting was superb,
and his eyes could say as much as his voice. And his mouth could take
on both a forbidding scowl and the warmest of smiles in an instant. His
malicious, gouty Don Luis in
Anthony Adverse (1936) was
inspired. After a shear lucky opportunity to dispatch his young wife's
lover, Louis Hayward, in a duel, he
triumphs over her in a scene with derisive, bulging eyes and that high
pitched laugh -- with appropriate shadow and light backdrop -- that is
unforgettable.
He was kept very busy through the remainder of the 1930s with a mix of
benign and devious historical, literary, and contemporary characters
always adapting a different nuance -- from murmur to growl -- of that
voice to become the person. He culminated the decade with his complex,
ethics-tortured Senator "Joe" Paine in
Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939).
That year he became an American citizen. Into the 1940s, Rains had
risen to perhaps unique stature: a supporting actor who had achieved
A-list stardom -- almost in a category by himself. His some 40 films
during that period ranged from subtle comedy to psychological drama
with a bit of horror revisited; many would be golden era classics. He
was the firm but thoroughly sympathetic Dr. Jaquith in
Now, Voyager (1942) and the smoothly
sardonic but engaging Capt. Louis Renault -- perhaps his best known
role -- in Casablanca (1942). He was
the surreptitiously nervous and malignant Alexander Sebastian in
Notorious (1946) and the egotistical
and domineering conductor Alexander Hollenius in
Deception (1946). He was the disfigured
Phantom of the Opera (1943)
as well. He played opposite the challenging
Bette Davis in three movies through the
decade and came out her equal in acting virtuosity. He was nominated
four times for the Best Supporting Actor Oscar -- but incredibly never
won. With the 1950s the few movies left to an older Rains were
countered by venturing into new acting territory -- television. His
haunted, suicidal writer Paul DeLambre in the mountaineering adventure
The White Tower (1950), though a
modest part, was perhaps the most vigorously memorable film role of his
last years. He made a triumphant Broadway return in 1951's "Darkness at
Noon."
Rains embraced the innovative TV playhouse circuit with nearly 20
roles. As a favored 'Alfred Hitchcock' alumnus, he starred in five
Alfred Hitchcock Presents (1955)
suspense dramas into the 1960s. And he did not shy away from episodic
TV either with some memorable roles that still reflected the power of
Claude Rains as consummate actor -- for many, first among peers with
that hallowed title.