I Was a Spy: A quiet, nervous kind of war movie

Is it worth your time?

If you like old-school black and white dramas that focus on sweaty palms and hushed whispers, you’ll probably dig this. If you need big action beats every ten minutes, keep walking. This is for people who enjoy watching a character slowly lose their cool in a room full of people who have no idea what’s actually happening.

Madeleine Carroll is the whole show here. She plays this nurse who has to keep a poker face while she’s basically helping blow things up, and then she has to bandage up the guys who survived it. That’s a rough way to spend a Tuesday, right? You can see the exhaustion in her eyes, especially in those scenes where she’s just staring at a tea tray or a medical chart, trying not to shake.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of I Was a Spy (1933) through its definitive frames.

The German commandant falling for her? It’s a classic trope, but Conrad Veidt plays it with this weird, looming sadness. It’s not a romance; it’s more like a trap closing in slow motion. Every time he walks into the frame, the air gets a little thinner. It’s not quite as manic as what you see in Manon Lescaut, but there’s a similar vibe of impending doom hanging over everything.

Small details that stuck with me:

• The way the hospital feels almost too quiet, like everyone is holding their breath.
• The uniforms look like they’ve actually been worn for a few months, not like costume shop rejects.
• There’s a moment with a bandage that lasts just a second too long—it’s gross and sad all at once.
• The sound of boots on cobblestones is used way more effectively than any orchestral swell.

I found myself wondering if this movie would have been even better if it leaned harder into the paranoia. Sometimes it feels like it’s holding back, playing nice with the audience. It’s definitely more interesting than some of the drier stuff from the era, like that slog The Lone Star Ranger. At least here, people have real stakes.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of I Was a Spy (1933) through its definitive frames.

Is it perfect? Nah. It gets a little repetitive in the middle, and there’s a scene in the infirmary where the dialogue feels like it’s just killing time until the next big plot point happens. But honestly, watching Carroll navigate the mess is enough to keep you glued. It’s a reminder that sometimes the scariest place to be is in a room full of people who think they know who you are.

It’s not a film that tries to solve the world. It just wants to show you how hard it is to lie to your own heart. Also, the lighting in the final act is surprisingly moody. Not quite as experimental as the stuff in The Scarecrow, but it works for the tone.

Give it a shot when you want something quiet and a bit dark. Just don’t expect a happy ending that makes sense. War doesn’t really do those.