Dead Again

11

There was something about Dead Again that really grabbed me when I saw it in the theater in 1991. It felt artsy, but also exciting and dynamic. There was an interesting mix of murder mystery and some elements of psychological thriller using an almost supernatural, past-lives angle. In other words, it was a film mashup that felt fresh, but also romantic in an old-school, black-and-white-movie kind of way. I can’t say a more recent re-watch in 2026 gave me the same feels. It could have been the much smaller screen and the lack of pageantry. Or perhaps it’s a couple decades of movie viewing that has exposed me to new and better versions of this type of story. Mostly, I think, it’s the more critical — almost cynical — way I watch movies these days, looking for fault rather than just relaxing into the entertainment. Though, there are films I give a wide berth because the narrative doesn’t demand precision, or I’m so entertained I just don’t care about plot holes and inconsistencies. Let’s dig in.

First, we have Kenneth Branagh both starring in and directing this film. I’m sure I’m wrong, but this felt like a particularly 1990s thing to do. It’s Scott Frank’s second film as a screenwriter, who has gone on to have a pretty lauded career as a writer and television creator. Opposite Branagh you have Emma Thompson, who is a singular actress, is almost always wonderful and just so happened to be married to Branagh in 1991. There are secondary, smaller roles for Andy Garcia and Robin Williams, giving the film some underlying heft. In other words, all the parts were there. It all felt solid and set up for success. But I defy you to find this movie on anyone’s list of anything. Literally, it seems like a movie that loomed so large in my mind’s eye, but has very little footprint, and is rarely, if ever, mentioned. I think, after watching it again for the first time in twenty or so years, why that might be.

This was an era where the opening credits were treated as something you had to watch. In fact, all the historical context of the mystery in this film are set up in the passing headlines in the credits. Honestly, it’s a pretty ingenious — yet throwback-y — method that avoids giant exposition dumps and gives a really clear picture of a murder that happened in the past all displayed in headlines of news articles. Basically, we learn that there is a wealthy couple named Roman and Margaret Strauss. Roman is a famous composer and socialite in the 1940s. Roman stabs Margaret to death in 1948, which makes headlines due to their high society profile, is tried in a very public trial and is sentenced to death. Cut to 40 years later and a woman who looks exactly like Margaret (Thompson) shows up with amnesia and mutism at an orphanage. The orphanage’s priest — who is an aggressively bad priest and kind of a bastard for absolutely no reason — wants her out of there, so he calls on loutish private eye, Mike Church (Branagh), who grew up at said orphanage, to come pick her up and deliver her to the psych ward. Honestly, though, I’m not sure why this priest, who runs an orphanage for god’s sake, is such a dick.

After seeing the condition of the psych ward, Mike decides he can’t leave her there, and instead takes her back to his cool Spanish house in the Hollywood hills. Which in and of itself should creep her out, but doesn’t. I mean she can’t talk so maybe she would complain if she could. But, no, she seems real comfortable with this dude. Which is funny, as we’re given the idea he’s a real ladies’ man, but he seems to stumble over his words with her and continuously admonish himself for sheepishly saying dumb stuff in her presence. This may be because of their shared past (in a past life), but more than likely it’s an inconsistency in the writing of the character. Which is the crux of the issue with the whole film, honestly. I know it’s only Frank’s second writing assignment, but it feels like there were some edits that needed to be made to the script to shore up the undergirding of the interactions between characters and their motivations. It gets real murky.

First, there’s Garcia’s reporter character. I know Garcia is Cuban, but according to his bio he moved to the US when he was five. His accent here is almost impenetrable, which I have to assume was a choice rather than an actual accent. His name is Gray Baker, so I don’t think he’s supposed to be anything other than a white guy with good hair, though he sounds like he’s been living in the Bronx with Al Pacino’s terrible Carlito’s Way character for 20 years. He wears zoot suits, rolls his own cigarettes and is generally way cooler than any reporter ever. This is all back in 1948 when he is, for some reason, fascinated with the personal lives of Roman and Margaret. To the point where he and Margaret have a weirdly flirty / intimate interaction at one of their fancy parties that would definitely piss off any husband who came upon it. Which Roman does. One of the inconsistent character relationships that is murky at best, but not seemingly on purpose. Garcia comes up again in the present day, but like everyone in this film, seems to not recognize that Roman and Margaret look exactly the same as Mike and the new amnesiac woman (who later becomes Grace / Amanda). I know Roman had a goatee and Mike doesn’t, but they are dead ringers for one another. And Grace / Amanda has a somewhat different hairdo, but she is clearly the same person. What are we doing here?

There are a couple other support characters who are just silly. The first is Wayne Knight as a photographer at the “paper.” He’s buddies with Mike and is constantly wriggling his eyebrows at him about this new amnesiac woman, eluding to how hot she is and encouraging Mike to just hold onto her. Aside from being super-creepy he’s just a cartoonish plot device. One who tells a really poorly written and completely unrealistic story about once losing his memory as a way to encourage Grace / Amanda that maybe one day she’ll recover hers. It’s super-clumsy and also clouds this character’s core personality. Is he just a pervy weirdo, or is he a caring dude who is actually trying to help? Turns out it’s the latter, but we’re kind of left wondering why he is so otherwise intent on Mike taking advantage of her. The second character that really lands with a thunk is Robin Williams’ defrocked psychiatrist. I honestly think it’s a poor casting choice for him. He’s an angry dude now working as a stock boy at a grocery store who apparently slept with patients and is generally a weird, horrible person. But he gives such sage life lessons! Honestly, it’s a mess of a character that makes no sense and is a black spot in a narrative that feels like he should be in a completely different movie. He will definitely end up imprisoning a woman in his basement.

Wrapped up in all this is a hypnotist / antique dealer, Franklyn (Derek Jacobi), who is employed to unlock Grace’s memory in order to figure out who she is. You know, her being mute and having amnesia. In the process of unlocking her memory, he brings her back to a past life, where it’s revealed she has memories of Roman and Margaret Strauss’ life. And a memory of who actually killed Margaret if it wasn’t, in fact, Roman. Mystery! These flashbacks — presented in black and white — are really where the movie shines. The period pieces and the stitching together of the unraveling of Roman and Margaret’s relationship feels like it’s on much more solid ground than anything that happens in modern day. And is what I really recall about the movie. The modern day stuff is where most of the inconsistencies happen. For instance, major portions of the thriller stuff would not have not happened if cell phones existed. Issue is, Mike has a mobile phone at the beginning of the movie, which we see him specifically use. But, after that opening scene, the phone is never seen again, which is both weird and a whoops the filmmaker should have clocked. At one point Grace / Amanda says “I could never shoot anyone” despite the fact she had aimed and threatened to shoot Mike just the night before. At one point Grace / Amanda claims that Mike really wants to see her, but the last scene we see them together, Mike runs out on her and never reaches out again. So, no, his motivations are not that. And probably the worst example revolves around the movie’s inciting event. The entire genesis of the story kicks off because someone takes deadly action to protect someone else. And then this someone later murders the someone he originally murdered in order to protect her. It makes absolutely zero sense. Zero.

The whole crescendo of the film is played out in a noperatic John Woo action scene tinged in irony. And silliness. Honestly, it’s a really goofy ending. I think it’s partially intentional and mostly a matter of having a couple not particularly athletic actors fight each other in a small space. Breaking down some of this action, there are some serious continuity errors as to where people are standing from one edit to the next, but taken as a whole it’s kind of fun, if not a bit funny. It’s a bit like the film itself. If I look at it from 30,000 feet, it’s an entertaining stab (no pun intended) at making a hybrid mystery thriller. Branagh is very natural and charismatic in his role and actually pulls off a decent American accent. Same goes for Thompson. Conceptually, it’s a classic example of how to tell a story. It’s like the sum of its parts is better than the parts somehow. Like if I could transport myself back to my teenage self when I first saw this and my brain had not yet been rotted by years of cynicism and critical thinking, I understand why I thought this thing was so great. It has all the components of a good film. It’s the execution of these components that just didn’t work at times. But, again, when it all bubbles up and you don’t focus on the individual issues (and, again, the absolutely terrible Robin Williams character) and kind of turn off your critical brain, it isn’t an awful way to spend a couple hours.