The Trouble with Harry.

Review #2509: The Trouble with Harry.

Cast: 

Edmund Gwenn (Capt. Albert Wiles), John Forsythe (Sam Marlowe), Shirley MacLaine (Jennifer Rogers), Mildred Natwick (Miss Ivy Gravely), Mildred Dunnock (Mrs. Wiggs), Jerry Mathers (Arnie Rogers), Royal Dano (Deputy Sheriff Calvin Wiggs), and Parker Fennelly (Millionaire)

Produced and Directed by Alfred Hitchcock (#219 - Rope, #223 - North by Northwest, #446 - Spellbound, #447 - Psycho, #450 - Vertigo, #455 - Rear Window, #553 - Strangers on a Train, #800 - Shadow of a Doubt, #910 - Notorious, #963 - The Lodger: A Story of the London Fog, #964 - The Ring (1927), #965 - Downhill, #970 - Mr. and Mrs. Smith, #977 - Frenzy, #1343 - The 39 Steps, #1739 - The Birds, #1828 - Rebecca, #2014 - The Lady Vanishes, #2032 - The Man Who Knew Too Much, #2374 - Blackmail [1929])

Review: 

"With Harry, I took melodrama out of the pitch-black night and brought it out into the sunshine. It's as if I had set up a murder alongside a rustling brook and spilled a drop of blood into the clear water. These contrasts establish a counterpart; they elevate the commonplace in life to a higher level."

I suppose it is hard to be the ugly duckling of a string of movies, but The Trouble with Harry is certainly a curious film in the work of Alfred Hitchcock. Of the eleven movies Hitchcock directed in the 1950s, it served as his only comedy (and one of just two that weren't thrillers, and the other was the based-on-a-true-story The Wrong Man [1956]). Of course, it wasn't his first comedy, as evidenced by Mr. & Mrs. Smith (1941), but Hitchcock apparently was quite keen on doing this film the way he wanted, complete with doing it in VistaVision with primary filming in Vermont (well, at least until they needed leaves on the trees or scenes in a certain gym). There were a few firsts here too. This was the first Hitchcock movie with music by Bernard Herrmann, who he would work with all the way to Marnie (1964). It was also the feature film debut of Shirley MacLaine*. She was not even in her twenties when she moved to New York to try out acting, which had her go from a bit role in Me and Juliet on Broadway to being the understudy-turned-star of The Pajama Game (due to an ankle injury of the star). The result of stepping into the role on Broadway attracted attention by Hal Wallis that eventually saw her signed to a contract with Paramount Pictures (and, well, Hitchcock apparently was interested to do a film with a charming unknown). Based on the 1949 novel of the same name by Jack Trevor Story, John Michael Hayes wrote the screenplay in his third collaboration with Hitchcock (having previously done the screenplay for Rear Window [1954], To Catch a Thief [1955] before doing The Man Who Knew Too Much [1956). While the movie was not a big hit in the States, it did play fine in Europe for years and apparently the film was one of Hitchcock's personal favorites. Hitchcock had the film rights until his death, whereupon it made the rounds in reissuing in the 1980s. 

You might call it a morbid little movie or one of Hitchcock's more mellow efforts, one that might actually be thought of as filled with whimsical nature. So yes, it is a pretty warm and fairly enjoyable affair (one that even can thread the needle of suggestion when one character asks if they can sketch them in the nude). The body is there just to be there, because the mystery is peeling the layers of these peculiar people in this landscape (yes, even with some studio shots, you get some neat views of the autumn season) for 99 minutes. You either are with the film in its casual sly nature for all the things that come with a ride that basically handles death as if it really was just a case of "so it goes" (yes I am cribbing from Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse-Five that had its own views about death, but, well, I actually did read that in college). Leading the way is Gwenn in one of his swansongs. This was among the last of Gwenn's films as an actor, as he appeared in two more movies (and one episode of Hitchcock's Alfred Hitchcock Presents) prior to his death in 1959 at the age of 81. He deftly handles it with the solid professionalism that comes with selling someone who really can just coast with some of the offbeat lines that come in observation and newfound zest, which probably overshadows Forsythe and his offbeat non-conformism (at least he wasn't going for "beatnik") a bit by comparison. Even as the youngest of the ensemble, MacLaine holds her own with a sense of odd grace and the type of confidence that leaves one invested in their lives and the wayward path that might come with being paired with Forsythe. Natwick rounds it out with solid dignity and understated charm, at least when one doesn't see the considerable age difference [28 years] between her and Gwenn. Rounding it out is Dano pulling out the humorless dry authority figure that mostly balances out the whims had by the main quartet, which I guess works out to how it goes in our everyday lives in sobering qualities. In general, it might not be among Hitchcock's best of the best, but it is a curious film you should seek out, one that has some amusing moments within a film full of peculiar characters brought to life with useful energy and a leisurely pace to make it all matter at the end.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Starting now, we're doing a song of the day. Enjoy at your own risk.

*Yes, that would be the younger sister of Warren Beatty. Go figure each actor would use modifications of their names for films, as she would use a modification of her middle name (MacLean) while, well, someone took off a "t" from their last name of Beaty

Blackmail (1929).

Review #2374: Blackmail (1929)

Cast: 

Anny Ondra (Alice White; Joan Berry as offstage voice), Sara Allgood (Mrs. White), Charles Paton (Mr. White), John Longden (Detective Frank Webber), Donald Calthrop (Tracy), Cyril Ritchard (Mr. Crewe, an artist), Hannah Jones (The landlady), and Harvey Braban (the Chief Inspector; Sam Livesey in silent version)

Directed by Alfred Hitchcock (#219 - Rope, #223 - North by Northwest, #446 - Spellbound, #447 - Psycho, #450 - Vertigo, #455 - Rear Window, #553 - Strangers on a Train, #800 - Shadow of a Doubt, #910 - Notorious, #963 - The Lodger: A Story of the London Fog, #964 - The Ring (1927), #965 - Downhill, #970 - Mr. and Mrs. Smith, #977 - Frenzy, #1343 - The 39 Steps, #1739 - The Birds, #1828 - Rebecca, #2014 - The Lady Vanishes, #2032 - The Man Who Knew Too Much)

Review: 

"It was a simple yarn. It was a simple story. I never really did it the way I wanted to. It–– I was probably using “The Lodger” form. I was showing in the first reel the technique of an arrest."

So, it is time to see the dawn of sound with England, I suppose. Blackmail (1929) is the striking point between silent and sound for that particular country (it wasn't the first sound movie ever in England, but it's the one people know) and of course it was Alfred Hitchcock who was right there. The movie is based on Charles Bennett's play of the same name, which had premiered on the West End in 1928 that actually had Tallulah Bankhead as the star. Hitchcock and Benn W. Levy are credited with the screenplay for the movie. At any rate, Hitchcock had done nine silent movies (as started with The Pleasure Garden [1925]), with The Manxman having previously been released in January of 1929, seven months prior to this movie. Blackmail started as a silent film with British International Pictures, but Hitchcock was given permission to film a portion in sound. The result is, well, you have two versions to pick from (the silent runs at 77 minutes, the sound runs at 85 minutes), and the sound version happens to have a chunk of it that relies on imagery and not dialogue anyway, particularly with the opening six minutes and the chase sequence at the end (incidentally, here is a sound test of the movie online, complete with Ondra speaking). In the age of needing really audible voices, Ondra, an actress born to Czech parents, was essentially dubbed for her performance, as Joan Barry read the lines of the script off camera while Ondra mouthed the words, which, well, it was the 1920s.  Incidentally, a few future noted directors participated in the movie: Ronald Neame was a clapper slate handler on the movie and Michael Powell worked as a stills photographer.  Ondra may not have been a Hitchcock mainstay, but she did maintain a constant career in acting (in German, French, and Czech) and even forming her own production company (while also being relatively in profile as the spouse of famed boxer Max Schmeling, although they were not big on a certain growing German regime); she appeared in her last movie in 1957 prior to dying in 1983 at the age of 87. As for Barry, she actually did get the chance to appear physically in a Hitchcock movie with Rich and Strange (1931) before she decided to focus on starting a family in 1933 and never returned to acting before her death in 1989. Hitchcock would be a busy man, as he directed three movies alone in 1930 (Juno and the Paycock, Murder!, Elstree Calling) on the road to doing sixteen sound movies in his native Britain before America came calling.

A restoration of the silent version of Blackmail occurred just fifteen years ago (also, if you want to hear about someone comparing both versions, you can inquire with this fellow reviewer here)*. Incidentally, in the year 2025, you can see the movie in the public domain, as is the case with movies from the year 1929 (there are versions of the movie of shoddy quality that can be found for cheap, but, well, avoid that). Sure, there are plenty of Hitchcock movies to choose from in trying to see what all the fuss is about, and you won't go wrong with this one. You get a movie with aspects that will seem right at home with a typical Hitchcock experience with a lead character entrapped in a web of trouble, a chase sequence that takes placed in a noted place (in this case, the British Museum), and a clash of aggression and vulnerability where the ending is not going to be that easy. It takes its time to set things in place when it comes to its one focus (people in peril, namely), but it is a curious enough procedural without straining in all of the cliches dealing with crime having to pay, and it goes to show that making a foray into sound did not have to be creaky to get something across to interested audiences (at least the ones who weren't seeing all of the American products). Besides, sound can be a hell of a thing to generate suspense in what comes to one's attention and what *strikes* at your attention. The performance of Ondra/Berry relies on the strange things that come with having one person for being in a fugue state for a chunk of it and the other just being a voice that is probably best played with the scene of "Knife!" that certainly sticks out in one's mind in unnerving tension. The others are fine with the conundrum that comes in procedure and the seedy smarm of Calthrop and the strait-laced Longden. Apparently, the climax involves a bit of effects trickery, as the Museum wasn't lighted enough to film the chase properly, so Hitchcock used the "Schufftan process", which deals with taking still photos of the place one wants to film and reflecting the photos in a mirror that deals with a mirror having scraped slivering. Hell of a thing, folks. The last shot at the end involving a callback to what we just saw does lend the fact that the movie isn't necessarily ending on a certain happy note, at least. Interpret at your own (fun) peril at what version of Blackmail is best for you**, but what you get in either event is a neat movie from a craftsman of suspense like no other.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

*I'll be real, I don't follow too many writers because I am a bit lazy. But I check this person from time to time for fun.

**Hell, I am not watching the silent movie to compare the two. Since I'm told that a good chunk of folks prefer the silent version, I would rather split the difference and say that a 8/10 for Blackmail works for either movie.

The Man Who Knew Too Much (1934).

Review #2032: The Man Who Knew Too Much.

Cast: 

Leslie Banks (Bob Lawrence), Edna Best (Jill Lawrence), Peter Lorre (Abbott), Frank Vosper (Ramon Levine), Hugh Wakefield (Clive), Nova Pilbeam (Betty Lawrence), Pierre Fresnay (Louis Bernard), Cicely Oates (Nurse Agnes), D. A. Clarke-Smith (Binstead), and George Curzon (Gibson) Directed by Alfred Hitchcock (#219 - Rope, #223 - North by Northwest, #446 - Spellbound, #447 - Psycho, #450 - Vertigo, #455 - Rear Window, #553 - Strangers on a Train, #800 - Shadow of a Doubt, #910 - Notorious, #963 - The Lodger: A Story of the London Fog, #964 - The Ring (1927), #965 - Downhill, #970 - Mr. and Mrs. Smith, #977 - Frenzy, #1343 - The 39 Steps, #1739 - The Birds, #1828 - Rebecca, and #2014 - The Lady Vanishes)

Review: 

 "Let's say the first version is the work of a talented amateur and the second was made by a professional."

It isn't often you get to see films where the same director would do it again decades later, but here we are. The Gaumont British production was one of the most noted features released by Alfred Hitchcock in his years in England, and he would do an updated version of this film (each involve an international crime plan with kidnapped children for extortion) that ran for two hours and was done in VistaVision for a distinct feature in its own right. The initial idea with Hitchcock was for him to do an adaptation of a Bulldog Drummond story (as originally created by H. C. McNeile as adventure novel series), which apparently would've been called "Bulldog Drummond's Baby". When that fell through, they just kept the idea of doing a conspiracy film with parents and cribbed the title from a 1922 novel of the same name (as written by G. K. Chesterton) that Hitchcock had select film rights to. The film was written by Charles Bennett and D. B. Wyndham-Lewis (Bennett asserted that he wrote the film with little, if anything done by Lewis). while Edwin Greenwood and A.R. Rawlinson provided the scenario for a film that runs at 75 minutes. This was released in the wake of such previous Hitchcock films as Number Seventeen (1932) and Waltzes from Vienna (1934), which are not exactly as remembered as the films that quickly followed after 1934 with The 39 Steps (1935) and Secret Agent (1936). It certainly ranked as the most curious film Hitchcock did in the sound era since probably his first one with Blackmail (1929), that much is for sure.

Admittedly, for such a little thriller, it actually is quite a vibrant feature in all the little things it does around building tension with a compact amount of time and composition. Banks and Best may not be the most recognizable names among features, but they were solid regulars for dozens of films for good reason, because it sure is something to play to what Hitchcock wants within the ordinary-turned-extraordinary here. This becomes pretty apparent after the opening sequences (such as introducing themselves to the future threat or trying to do a shooting contest) dispense away from their time as just wry parents and goes right into vulnerable panic. The startup to that sequence involves a would-be dance turning into whispers and then panic to effective execution that all involves a secret message (but it isn't the real important thing when it comes to coming up with one's own plan). Hitchcock does find time to pass that might inspire a wry chuckle without seeming wasteful, though, one of which involves a meeting with a dentist or (lest we forget) a church of sunworshippers. Lorre isn't forgotten in the main run of course, choosing his words carefully in menace - he had exactly one other English-language film under his belt with M (1931), which had an English version (remember that he left Germany in 1933), but this was the one where numerous English productions would follow in its wake. He has the physical presence that others wish they could match as a threat, and its clear to see how that could be used for films down the line. By the time that the film lumbers to the climax at the Royal Albert Hall, it has made its setup with key distinctions in one sound that makes the overall execution of said scene all the more better in tension and release. The gun fight that follows was actually inspired by the Sidney Street Siege, a real shootout in the East End of London in 1911 (which was actually captured on camera from a news outlet, some of which featured rising politician Winston Churchill), although obviously the gunfight here ends up different than the actual siege (which involved a collapsed building that killed a fireman), which isn't exploitative or played out with false notes. As a whole, in a lengthy career of several decades, The Man Who Knew Too Much shows Hitchcock in a favorable position when it comes to directing tension that he would cultivate for further success in further productions with most of the right moves already present here in a pretty good time.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

The Lady Vanishes.

Review #2014: The Lady Vanishes.

Cast: 

Margaret Lockwood (Iris Henderson), Michael Redgrave (Gilbert), Paul Lukas (Dr. Hartz), May Whitty (Miss Froy), Cecil Parker (Mr. Todhunter), Linden Travers ("Mrs." Todhunter), Naunton Wayne (Caldicott), Basil Radford (Charters), and Mary Clare (Baroness) Directed by Alfred Hitchcock (#219 - Rope, #223 - North by Northwest, #446 - Spellbound, #447 - Psycho, #450 - Vertigo, #455 - Rear Window, #553 - Strangers on a Train, #800 - Shadow of a Doubt, #910 - Notorious, #963 - The Lodger: A Story of the London Fog, #964 - The Ring (1927), #965 - Downhill, #970 - Mr. and Mrs. Smith, #977 - Frenzy, #1343 - The 39 Steps, #1739 - The Birds, and #1828 - Rebecca)

Review: 

Admittedly, I haven't covered many British films in the line of Alfred Hitchcock, but the man made a film in six different decades, so clearly there will be time yet to cover more of his films, especially when doing 18 of them isn't even covering half of his filmography. The Lady Vanishes is the penultimate film that Hitchcock made in his native England, as he would move to the States to direct in Hollywood after Jamaica Inn (1939). He had attracted attention with previous British classics such as The Man Who Knew Too Much (1934) and The 39 Steps (1935), and American producer David O. Selznick believed he had talent waiting in America. However, Hitchcock still had a contract to go through with Gainsborough Pictures (with this being the 12th and final film with the studio), and it just so happened that a film idea called "The Lost Lady" fell into his lap, as plans to do the film with Roy William Neill fell through when background filing in the Kingdom of Yugoslavia ended in embarrassment. The film is based on the novel The Wheel Spins by Ethel Lina White, with a screenplay by Sidney Gilliat and Frank Launder. The book has been adapted once more in film in 1979 (a Hammer production with Cybill Shepherd and Elliott Gould as stars) and it has been adapted to television (most recently as 2013 on BBC One) and radio. The nature of the book was shifted by Hitchcock and company, most notably with the climax, since the book did not have a gunfight resolution. There have also been thriller films released with premises that sound a bit similar to the one presented here, such as with So Long at the Fair (1950), about a suddenly missing hotel room and Flightplan (2005), which involved a missing daughter on a plane.

The patience one has with an innocent being thrust into peril will determine just how much of its exhilarating attempts at mystery thrills work for you, with most of it being set on a train filled with a few characters that have evident reasons to maintain the status quo no matter what. With a 97-minute runtime, it does a reasonable job with building the eventual confrontation that comes with trying to confront bold-faced statements without cheating. Lockwood makes a useful lead to follow with when it comes to a archetype familiar in a handful of Hitchcock films: an innocent thrust into a situation with little choice but to dig their way out. Granted, dealing with oddball hotel people that either won't shut up about cricket or music is pretty mundane when compared to missing old ladies, but I'm sure you get the picture of seeing how an ordinary person like her could get swept up in a sea of people being human in "decision-making"; Hitchcock once described her having a gift for both "expressing her beauty in terms of emotion" when it comes to camera shots and also the insight to get the feel of lines, and she became a prominent British star for several years. Redgrave was in his first film role after spending time in the theater, and he does pretty well here in general conviction for wavering belief when spent with Lockwood (whether the belief to mess with her or to be on her side). Lukas and his veteran presence makes a quality adversary in swift conviction that keeps the viewer occupied. Whitty makes a quality presence to serve as the title character, which goes over better when compared to Wayne and Radford, who actually played these "characters" (comedy relief) for a handful of other movies- eh, theyre okay. The funniest thing that happens is probably when one of the characters gets shot the hand when stumbling into a standoff. That, or the attempt at trying to get a "nun" away quietly.

Honestly, I wish I liked it more, but I suppose being a "good" film that just meets expectations is better than being a supposed great film that flounders if one expects way too much. The climax is when the film tries to play neat and tidy with resolving things in clever fashion, which does work out fine. As a whole, it certainly is a movie worth recommending for those quite familiar with the famed director Alfred Hitchcock, especially if one wants to see exactly where the line went from his British roots in directing to taking on Hollywood came with this particular film. You will find plenty to like if you are in the mood for it, and some have even called it one of his best films, so take that for what it is worth.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Rebecca (1940).

Review #1828: Rebecca. 

Cast: 
Joan Fontaine (The second Mrs. de Winter), Laurence Olivier (George Fortescue Maximilian "Maxim" de Winter), Judith Anderson (Mrs. Danvers), George Sanders (Jack Favell), Reginald Denny (Frank Crawley), Gladys Cooper (Beatrice Lacy), C. Aubrey Smith (Colonel Julyan), Nigel Bruce (Major Giles Lacy), Florence Bates (Mrs. Edythe Van Hopper), Edward Fielding (Frith), Melville Cooper (Coroner at trial), Leo G. Carroll (Dr. Baker), and Leonard Carey (Ben) Directed by Alfred Hitchcock (#219 - Rope, #223 - North by Northwest, #446 - Spellbound, #447 - Psycho, #450 - Vertigo, #455 - Rear Window, #553 - Strangers on a Train, #800 - Shadow of a Doubt, #910 - Notorious, #963 - The Lodger: A Story of the London Fog, #964 - The Ring (1927), #965 - Downhill, #970 - Mr. and Mrs. Smith, #977 - Frenzy, and #1343 - The 39 Steps, and #1739 - The Birds)

Review:

It does become interesting to consider just how many movies one can see of the late Alfred Hitchcock, particularly since his line of work has taken up nine percent of all films I've ever seen, which is a weird way of saying seventeen films. Of course, the real story is the fact that this was not only the 26th feature film directed by Hitchcock, it was his first directed in Hollywood. Hitchcock was forty years old when he decided to move to Hollywood, having believed that he reached his peak in his native Britain, and it was the efforts of producer David O. Selznick that led to him moving; the two signed a seven-year contract; Hitchcock would end up producing more films by himself than with Selznick, and they would have their disagreements in terms of personality and professionalism when it came to this film, to where they only worked on one other film together in Spellbound a couple of years later, most notably because Hitchcock liked to film a controlled cut without too much extra footage. As such, this is an adaptation of the novel of the same name that had been written by Daphne du Maurier, and it was Hitchcock who had adapted her previous book Jamaica Inn in 1939. Incidentally, the book had been adapted on radio by Orson Welles in 1938, and a stage adaptation had been done by Du Maurier in 1939. Selznick aimed to be quite faithful to the book, as much as one can do with the Production Code, which had one particular rule about spouse death. Hitchcock was a busy man, since this was also the year of release for Foreign Correspondent, which like this film would be nominated for an Academy Award for Best Picture (other films nominated were films such as The Grapes of Wrath, The Great Dictator, and The Philadelphia Story). As it happened, Rebecca would win the award, making it the only Hitchcock film to ever win the honor; Selznick, as the recipient of the award, became the first back-to-back winner for a producer. As such, the screenplay was done by Robert E. Sherwood and Joan Harrison, while the adaptation was done by Philip MacDonald and Michael Hogan. 

Several actors were considered for the main roles, such as Ronald Colman, William Powell, Olivia de Havilland, Loretta Young, among others. Sometimes one needs a Gothic vision to really see the talents of Hitchcock come alive, if only because one wants to see just where the rabbit hole goes in mystery and tortured romance, where the unsaid is more biting than the action. 130 minutes never felt so magnificent when it comes to how Hitchcock has handled the macabre with the terror that comes from memories of a deceased wife that haunts both an estate and the husband himself (incidentally, one never sees the title character nor knows the name of the one of the main characters) that creates such diverting paranoia without becoming a costume show; George Barnes and his cinematography help in that regard to make a stirring film look as alive as it does, and it probably isn't surprising that Barnes won an Academy Award for his work. Of course, the cast is just as effective as the crew. Olivier portrays the vulnerability required with such brooding patience that makes for quite a volatile and curious interaction with Fontaine, one ripped by the past that holds him down further than anything else could, which means one is watching a gripping performance that isn't just a show for Olivier (a talented actor already noted for his performance in Wuthering Heights the year before). Fontaine (the younger sister of actress Olivia de Havilland) had a few key roles in films before this film, most notably Gunga Din (1939), but this was the film that made her a key star (Fontaine however did not care for her typecasting for just melodramatic roles, which would include films done by Selznick like Jane Eyre (1943) and even another du Maurier adaptation in Frenchman's Creek the next year). It doesn't take much to see why she became a star, because her performance is quite excellent, one with the exact type of withering vulnerability required in showing doubt that doesn't become overshadowed by the other members of the cast, and the growing confidence by the second half only helps to make a well-rounded performance of curiosity. Anderson (considered one of the great stage actors of her time) makes a compelling adversarial presence, one who lurks around Fontaine that practically glides from scene to scene (complete with a lack of blinking) that makes the final result all the more haunting. Sanders, when he does show up, makes a perfect cad to view against the others, and the rest of the cast keeps the proceedings dignified and well invested. As a whole, the movie is a classic worth viewing among all the other Hitchcock classics for what is seen and what isn't seen in this Gothic mystery that has the highlights from its director and producer in Selznick without becoming consumed by itself. One can debate just where the film rests among the classics, but one knows by the time the film ends that it is up there in the margins somewhere for what it ends up doing with a master at work.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

The Birds.

Review #1739: The Birds.

Cast: 

Tippi Hedren (Melanie Daniels), Rod Taylor (Mitch Brenner), Jessica Tandy (Lydia Brenner), Veronica Cartwright (Cathy Brenner), Suzanne Pleshette (Annie Hayworth), Ethel Griffies (Mrs. Bundy), Charles McGraw (Sebastian Sholes), and Lonny Chapman (Deke Carter) Directed by Alfred Hitchcock (#219 - Rope, #223 - North by Northwest, #446 - Spellbound, #447 - Psycho, #450 - Vertigo, #455 - Rear Window, #553 - Strangers on a Train, #800 - Shadow of a Doubt, #910 - Notorious, #963 - The Lodger: A Story of the London Fog, #964 - The Ring (1927), #965 - Downhill, #970 - Mr. and Mrs. Smith, #977 - Frenzy, and #1343 - The 39 Steps)

Review: 

The thing about doing a creature feature is that one has to really allow themselves to become immersed in the idea that the director (or writer) wants to show in taking something you could see any day of the week and make it something that could potentially unnerve you, or at the very least pique your curiosity. I suppose if anybody seemed up to the task of trying to make a movie about birds, Alfred Hitchcock (described by some as "The Master of Suspense") would spring to mind quickly. Of course, this happens to be the first film that was directed by Hitchcock after the success of Psycho (1960), which has been argued to be his most famous work. Perhaps the biggest credit is the use of the sodium vapor process to get the shots of the birds to look effective (as opposed to the bluescreen process), and Hitchcock brought in Ub Iwerks (of Walt Disney Studios, the leader in the process) to work on the film - the process involves a variety of things such a yellow screen, an optical printer and two different elements of the footage. Evan Hunter (best known for his work in crime fiction with the 87th Precinct novels and a writer on Alfred Hitchcock Presents for two episodes) was brought in to write the script (for his part, he would later state that Hitchcock would "take outrageous liberties with what I had written" with what he allowed his actors to do with the script). This was adapted from the short story of the same name by Daphne Du Maurier, which had first been published in 1952 as part of her collection The Apple Tree (radio adaptations had been done of the story, incidentally). Hitchcock had adapted her works before with Jamaica Inn (1939) and Rebecca (1940). Apparently, Du Maurier did not like this adaptation, probably because it changes the setting from England to California while going from a focus on a family in a cottage to an offbeat coupling and a controlling parent. Of course, one inspiration that helped Hitchcock involved him hearing about a 1961 attack in Capitola, California that involved birds crashing into buildings with disorientation (three decades later, it was discovered that this occurred due to the birds eating algae that had become toxic). Hitchcock would ultimately do three further films in the 1960s that resulted in varying levels of success before he closed his career with thrillers in Frenzy (1972) and Family Plot (1976). 

Perhaps there was too much responsibility placed on the shoulders of a green actress. Hedren (a model for over a decade) was approached by Hitchcock after he had seen her in a commercial while watching The Today Show, and she soon signed a seven year contract; she had assumed she would soon be on the aforementioned Presents program, but actually he aimed for turning her into a film actress that would debut in a lead role (complete with screen tests and training); perhaps amusingly, she would appear in the "sequel" three decades later with The Birds II: Land's End (1994), which is about as much one needs to really know about. Of course, maybe one really needs a certain type of understanding of what it means to cultivate suspense that might seem familiar for those who would see future films such as Jaws (1975) or Tremors (1990). Perhaps one cannot be too harsh for a film that is meticulously executed in its shots and effects, one that is a worthy movie to look at with patience. All of this is a crock for me to say what became evident before the last shot: dignified lingering in a bit of muck is at the end of the day still one that has a bit of muck on it that needs picking no matter how pretty it is. Simply put, it lingers for quite a bit of time on folks that barely justifies having two hours with them, as if I really need an entire justification for someone wanting to go on a whim to somebody's place and give them lovebirds; it is far more interesting with thrills than anything it tries to do in humor or with family drama, that much is for sure. Maybe the tension reflects the times that the birds attack, but we are still talking about a movie that only gets some of its tense atmosphere with the right amount of cohesiveness. You can put all the window dressing you want about what the film represents in themes, but I don't see it as being any more useful in execution than something like Them! (1954), which if you recall involved mutated ants. But at least one can say the effects are well done, particularly since it was a blend of animated and live birds for various shots. So yes, there is a main group of actors, and they are fairly decent here despite my misgivings about just who matters or doesn't matter. Hedren might seem a bit anxious here, but she does eventually grow into the suspense (i.e. when the film stops trying to make me care so much about her journey into the Bay) that helps us get more and more gripped in tensing one's nerves. Taylor is stuck in the middle, as if one is begging him to be more involved with the birds than with the aforementioned Bay element, and the parts with Tandy are more "move the hand along" than anything - overall, not flat, but still. Tandy is okay, but being okay in a Hitchcock film with clinging mothers is a weird distinction (of course Cartwright being just an okay kid also makes it weird). Pleshette honestly is the most inviting presence, and she only has a few moments to really spring interest in being the earthy contrast when paired against Hedren (again, this is probably personal preference).

Honestly, testing one's patience in life could probably be assessed by how you view the sequence in the diner, where there is a discussion that goes on and on about supposed bird attacks and so on (gee, are the birds around?); one bird attack later where everyone is a bit rattled, a hysterical lady yammers on about who to possibly blame and honestly the one thing that works comes when Hedren slaps her and moves on to other things. I suppose I am not fair to the first hour, since the birds attack twice in that same span of time. But hey, there are moments that plod along in each hour, more so in the sequence involving an incessant playing of "Risseldy Rosseldy" in an attempt to build suspense that only results in an earworm. I guess there are benefits to making a monster movie that doesn't explain its story or end its reign of terror with a pat resolution (Hitchcock did not even want to have any kind of credits to follow after the last shot of the film, but Universal added in a brief studio logo shot). Oh please, my brain says: how much does one need to say about why birds are attacking when most people have both positive and negative memories that involve birds in the first place? But I guess that makes it an interesting predecessor to later films that wouldn't spring to easy solutions (such as say Halloween, for example), and for that one has to appreciate its efforts. Besides, if one really wants to watch someone try to make a movie about birds with absolute zero execution of tension or characters (complete with a brief shot of Hedren!), Birdemic (2010/2013) is right there to make you appreciate filmmaking or the bounds of using your time wisely. As a whole, being an overrated movie can still mean one has made a good movie if the right hands are at the wheel, and Hitchcock for the most part does what is needed to make things stay on course for a thriller. It certainly was an interesting step for Hitchcock in his fifth decade of filmmaking, that much is for sure, and it works out for any Hitchcock devotee for all of its qualities (flaws or no flaws) whenever your curiosity for birds is at hand.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: Spider Baby (1967).

The 39 Steps (1935).

Review #1343: The 39 Steps.

Cast: 
Robert Donat (Richard Hannay), Madeleine Carroll (Pamela), Lucie Mannheim (Annabella Schmidt), Godfrey Tearle (Professor Jordan), Peggy Ashcroft (Margaret), John Laurie (John), Helen Haye (Mrs. Louisa Jordan), Frank Cellier (Sheriff Watson), and Wylie Watson (Mr. Memory) Directed by Alfred Hitchcock (#219 - Rope, #223 - North by Northwest, #446 - Spellbound, #447 - Psycho, #450 - Vertigo, #455 - Rear Window, #553 - Strangers on a Train, #800 - Shadow of a Doubt, #910 - Notorious, #963 - The Lodger: A Story of the London Fog, #964 - The Ring (1927), #965 - Downhill, #970 - Mr. and Mrs. Smith, and #977 - Frenzy)

Review: 
"The chief requisite for an actor is the ability to do nothing well, which is by no means as easy as it sounds. He should be willing to be used and wholly integrated into the picture by the director and the camera. He must allow the camera to determine the proper emphasis and the most effective dramatic highlights."

One can never say enough about Alfred Hitchcock and the films he made throughout seven decades. He had started his work in film as a title card designer for Famous Players-Lasky in their London studio in 1920. He gained experience from this work before his next job with Gainsborough Pictures as an assistant director. He had worked on numerous short subjects (including an attempt deubt with the curtailed Number 13 in 1922) and films, most notably with Woman to Woman (1923), which he designed the set and wrote for. In 1925, he made his directorial debut with The Pleasure Garden, a flop that now only exists in the viewing markets as a bootleg. His breakthrough came with The Lodger in 1927, inspired by Expressionist techniques of Germany. After the success of The Man Who Knew Too Much (1934) came this film, his 22nd of his career and sixth-to-last before his departure to Hollywood in 1939. This was an adaptation of the adventure serial (and subsequent publication as novel) The Thirty-Nine Steps by John Buchan, which first came out in 1915. It was the first in what turned out to be a thriller series by Buchan, who wrote four further novels with its main character of Richard Hannay over the next 21 years. The novel has been adapted three times for film along with once for television, with several radio adaptations and even a theatrical production for the stage.Obviously there are a few liberties taken with the work, such as three newly created characters (both female leads along with the brief but important use of someone named "Mr. Memory" for the opening and climax) and even the explanation for the title (an organization in the film, actual steps in the book), but  Charles Bennett and Ian Hay generally followed the outline of the original work.

For such a prolific director, one can't forget to mention its solid cast. Donat had already made the transition from the English stage (done since 1921) to film in 1932. He made just 20 films before his death in 1958 (affected in part due to his chronic asthma), but he made the most of it, even winning an Academy Award for Goodbye, Mr. Chips (1939). In any case, he does a tremendous job here, a confident performance in being swept up as the wrong man on the run (a common thing present in numerous Hitchcock films), a wise-cracker wise to carrying an 86 minute film with that stiff upper lip one should see coming from someone of his disposition, careful but dynamic, such as the scene where he needs to make a speech to introduce a candidate he knows nothing about. Carroll proves just as careful with the present scenario, where she is never too far from our mind (with quite a bit of time passing before she shows up after the train sequence), but she makes the most of it. If the two seem at home with panic when handcuffed together in a scene together, that was because Hitchcock had them handcuffed for a few hours (while pretending to have lost the key) to get them in the right sense of mind for such situation. In that sense, the two seem just right with chemistry, which you can see the relaxation as the film goes on. Mannheim shows up for only a few minutes, but she makes the most of it count. Tearle makes for a fine lurking presence, in that one doesn't need bellowing to make a conniving presence count but control. The rest prove fine for a film that has touches of humor to go alongside thrills to make for quite an interesting ride, going from scene to scene with no trouble, where the suspense comes to the viewer without needing to be spoonfed all at once. In the end, this is a wonderful film from Hitchcock in its execution of suspense, rolling itself with controlled ambition and a game cast that make for wonderful entertainment belonging on the level among Hitchcock's past and future prime efforts.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Frenzy.

Review #977: Frenzy.

Cast: 
Jon Finch (Richard Ian "Dick" Blaney), Alec McCowen (Chief Inspector Oxford), Barry Foster (Robert "Bob" Rusk), Billie Whitelaw (Hetty Porter), Anna Massey (Barbara Jane "Babs" Milligan), Barbara Leigh-Hunt (Brenda Margaret Blaney), Bernard Cribbins (Felix Forsythe), Vivien Merchant (Mrs. Oxford), Michael Bates (Sergeant Spearman), and Jean Marsh (Monica Barling) Directed by Alfred Hitchcock (#219 - Rope, #223 - North by Northwest, #446 - Spellbound, #447 - Psycho, #450 - Vertigo, #455 - Rear Window, #553 - Strangers on a Train, #800 - Shadow of a Doubt, #910 - Notorious, #963 - The Lodger: A Story of the London Fog, #964 - The Ring (1927), #965 - Downhill, and #970 - Mr. and Mrs. Smith)

Review: 
Frenzy was Alfred Hitchcock's 52nd feature film, along with being his penultimate film, with Family Plot (1976) being released four years later. This was adapted from the novel Goodbye Piccadilly, Farewell Leicester Square by Arthur La Bern. He later wrote a letter in a newspaper that described it as a "painful experience", citing the screenplay by Anthony Shaffer. If you've seen enough Hitchcock films/thrillers (or have heard about him already), there are quite a few familiar aspects present, such as the wrong man motif, and a macabre attitude at times, with more thrills than mystery present (seeing as you know who the killer is by the first hour), but it doesn't make the film any less interesting in its plunge into the dark (depending on how much you can stomach, anyway). The tracking sequence involving the killer taking his next victim is executed finely enough, and the potato truck sequence invokes a bit of nausea along with interest in where it will end up. This was Hitchcock's third British film since he had moved to Hollywood in 1939 (with the other two being Under Capricorn (1949) and Stage Fright (1950), although he shot some exterior shots in England for The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956)), and this also happened to be his first (and only) ever film rated R upon theatrical release, with the violence and imagery shown on screen showing more of the ugly nature of death than previous Hitchcock films had done - for better or for worse. If you can stomach the film's macabre aspects, you likely can stomach the film as a whole just fine.

Finch is a fair main lead, being brutally blunt and fitting as the man in the wrong circumstances while not merely just an innocent lamb, which is somewhat refreshing although it may be a turnoff for others. McCowen does fine, being fairly crucial towards the climax. The humor is quite sharp and welcome, with the scenes between McCowen and Merchant feeling like the right sort of contrast in a film with a man who kills people with neckties (I happen to have no biases toward this fact, seeing as I wear zip ties); the scene with the men discussing the details of the murder in a pub is also a strange highlight. Foster has a sort of ease to his performance that is fairly off-putting and quite effective; his scene with Leigh-Hunt is haunting along with lurid. The rest of the cast are quite interesting in their supporting roles, such as Massey and Cribbins, each having a certain pull factor that works in their own way; the locations used (such as Covent Garden) is also pretty helpful in making for a unique atmosphere for the film to take place, with some of the location having changed since the film's release. The climax of the film is fairly engaging and typical for a Hitchcock movie (which isn't a criticism), having a satisfactory end - for a movie like this, anyway. It is easy to say this is not one of Hitchcock's best films, but it is at least a fair piece of entertainment that happens to fall in the middle behind genuine classics that he had made prior. Love it or hate it, it is clear that Hitchcock still seemed to know what he was doing even at the age of 73, and this is a fairly decent representation of that.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Mr. & Mrs. Smith (1941).

Review #970: Mr. & Mrs. Smith.

Cast: 
Carole Lombard (Ann Krausheimer Smith), Robert Montgomery (David Smith), Gene Raymond (Jefferson Custer), Jack Carson (Chuck Benson), Philip Merivale (Ashley Custer), Lucile Watson (Mrs. Custer), William Tracy (Sammy), Charles Halton (Harry Deever), Esther Dale (Mrs. Krausheimer), Emma Dunn (Martha), Betty Compson (Gertie), and Patricia Farr (Gloria) Directed by Alfred Hitchcock (#219 - Rope, #223 - North by Northwest, #446 - Spellbound, #447 - Psycho, #450 - Vertigo, #455 - Rear Window, #553 - Strangers on a Train, #800 - Shadow of a Doubt, #910 - Notorious, #963 - The Lodger: A Story of the London Fog, #964 - The Ring (1927), and #965 - Downhill)

Review: 
This is the only screwball comedy that Alfred Hitchcock ever directed in his career, and while it may not be up to par with some of the films previously covered on here, this is at least serviceable entertainment, even if built on flimsy ground. It has a dry and sometimes offbeat feel that definitely could rankle a viewer if they don't have enough patience - or not in the right mood, anyway. Lombard and Montgomery are fairly decent together, though admittedly they work better in the first half of the movie, with the climax being the weakest part of the film due to feeling clunky; the Florida Club sequence is a fine highlight to showcase with the two (along with Carson). They have fine timing together, though Lombard is the more interesting one to follow. This was the last film released during Carole Lombard's lifetime, as she died the following year in a plane crash prior to her last film appearance in To Be or Not to Be (1942). Raymond is decent (such as the sequence at the World's Fair), and Carson is fairly charming as well. The circumstances that set up the plot are a bit offbeat, but fairly fitting for the time and kind of comedy the film is going for. The movie lasts 94 minutes, which is fairly acceptable and the movie has a fine enough pace that doesn't seem to drag too much. Without trying to give too much away, the climax is where the movie nearly pulls itself out of the seams, in part because of how the main characters get back together; it just feels a bit clumsy and not very justified. Regardless of how the movie ends, this is an adequate (if not okay) movie that benefits best from trying to make laughs that just happens to have been shot by Alfred Hitchcock.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Downhill (1927).

Review #965: Downhill.

Cast:
Ivor Novello (Roddy Berwick), Robin Irvine (Tim Wakely), Isabel Jeans (Julia Fotheringale), Ian Hunter (Archie), Norman McKinnel (Sir Thomas Berwick), Annette Benson (Mabel), Sybil Rhoda (Sybil Wakely), and Lilian Braithwaite (Lady Berwick) Directed by Alfred Hitchcock (#219 - Rope, #223 - North by Northwest, #446 - Spellbound, #447 - Psycho, #450 - Vertigo, #455 - Rear Window, #553 - Strangers on a Train, #800 - Shadow of a Doubt, #910 - Notorious, #963 - The Lodger: A Story of the London Fog, and #964 - The Ring (1927))

Review:
Downhill (with the alternative title in the United States being When Boys Leave Home) was Hitchcock's fifth feature film along with his third and last released in 1927 (released the same month as The Ring - all three being United Kingdom productions), and while it may be the weakest of the three in that year, this is at least a fairly watchable experience. This was adapted by Eliot Stannard from the play Down Hill by Novello and Constance Collier, and it is clearly evident to see how stagey the movie looks at times, though Hitchcock doesn't resort to too many title cards throughout this silent film, using imagery and color tint (as mentioned before in the previous reviews) in order to help convey the story, along with some memorable shots. It is through and through a melodrama, showcasing themes of guilt and "the real world", with one particular highlight being a title card that says "The world of make-believe", while revealing the main character's tuxedo to actually be attire for a waiter. The scene where he sees the ravenous nature of the people he works for near the ending is also pretty interesting to watch. I found the movie to be pretty decent, but I just didn't find it to hold up entirely well, maybe because of Novello and his character; he doesn't do a bad job, but sometimes it gets tiresome watching him and his descent. The rest of the cast is alright, but there isn't anybody too memorable in it to make mention of (obviously there isn't a villain, unless you count Benson); the ending feels a bit tacked on, ending the movie pretty quickly though at least it somewhat seems to come full circle. It feels clunky at times (and Novello doesn't exactly resemble a schoolboy), but its cynical portrayal of the seedy nature of the main character's downhill does have some standing power. It isn't one of his best films, but this is still a fairly coherent Hitchcock film.

It's weird that I reviewed three consecutive Alfred Hitchcock films from 1927, but I guess it never hurts to have an unofficial "trilogy" of reviews, especially for a master of film like Hitchcock.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

The Ring (1927).

Review #964: The Ring.

Cast: 
Carl Brisson ('One-Round' Jack Sander), Lillian Hall-Davis (Mabel), Ian Hunter (Bob Corby), Forrester Harvey (James Ware), Harry Terry (Showman), and Gordon Harker (Jack's Trainer) Directed by Alfred Hitchcock (#219 - Rope, #223 - North by Northwest, #446 - Spellbound, #447 - Psycho, #450 - Vertigo, #455 - Rear Window, #553 - Strangers on a Train, #800 - Shadow of a Doubt, #910 - Notorious, and #963 - The Lodger: A Story of the London Fog)

Review: 
This was not only Alfred Hitchcock's fourth feature film (along with the second released in 1927), this was also his only film in which he wrote the script all on his own. Naturally, it happens to be about two boxers competing for the love of a woman. It may not exactly be nothing too new in terms of the romance, but the film makes up for it by being nicely executed with its shots and actors. Like with some of the better silent films, it doesn't rely on too many title cards, using imagery within the actors and their expressions to help convey itself at times. Brisson and Hall-Davis have some decent little chemistry together, nothing too cute nor too unbelievable. Hunter is also fairly decent in a somewhat adversarial (though not explicitly villainous) role that works well with either of the two main romantic leads. The rest of the cast are also fairly decent in their roles, not doing too much to standout from the main actors, but also having a fair amount of screen presence. The match at the end of the movie is a key highlight, looking fairly believable (aside from a bit of fast forwarding at times) and being a good place for the movie to end without dragging too long. On the whole, this is a fairly watchable and well conceived movie that certainly holds up, as per the standard for Hitchcock films (or other fine quality movies). Is it one of his best? Not really, but it definitely holds up pretty well on a standard of being fine entertainment.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

The Lodger: A Story of the London Fog.

Review #963: The Lodger: A Story of the London Fog.

Cast: 
Marie Ault (The Landlady - Mrs. Bunting), Arthur Chesney (Her Husband - Mr. Bunting), June Tripp (Daisy Bunting, a Model), Malcolm Keen (Joe Chandler), and Ivor Novello (Jonathan Drew - The Lodger) Directed by Alfred Hitchcock (#219 - Rope, #223 - North by Northwest, #446 - Spellbound, #447 - Psycho, #450 - Vertigo, #455 - Rear Window, #553 - Strangers on a Train, #800 - Shadow of a Doubt, and #910 - Notorious)

Review: 
This was the third Hitchcock film (with the other two being The Pleasure Garden and The Mountain Eagle), and it is also considered one of the first thriller films, with this one based on a novel of the same name by Marie Adelaide Belloc Lowndes and the play Who Is He? by Horace Annesley; this is also the first time I've covered one of his silent films, of which he made nine, all in the 1920s. In any case, this is a first rate thriller, managing to have a good deal of style and suspense that works at making this a neat classic. The color tinting along with the shots the editing (done by Ivor Montagu, who also suggested the reduction of title cards) also help in giving the movie an interesting look (one particularly memorable shot being To-Night Golden Curls, which is shown a few times during the film); the shot of Novello's introduction is also a nice shot, with his appearance and the way the shadows and figures are shot making for an interesting introduction of the title character. Novello certainly has an interesting performance, balancing quirky (and somewhat suspicious nature) and his chemistry with Tripp into a fairly entertaining performance for a movie verging on the suspense of who the killer could be. Ault and Chesney do fine jobs as well. Keen also does a decent job, particularly in his scenes with Novello and Tripp near the end (although one highlight is him cutting out cookie dough in the shape of a heart). One scene in particular stands out, with an edit of his feet pacing on the room above the others being a great image to watch. The film definitely has its moments of using imagery or its actors to carry the film, with the climax (and the nature of the town mob) being quite fitting. The movie reaches on levels that Hitchcock would cover in many of his other films throughout his career, from the nature of the kill to the innocent man; on the whole, this is a fairly crafted film that proved to be the spark of his career.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Notorious (1946).

Review #910: Notorious.

Cast:
Cary Grant (T. R. Devlin), Ingrid Bergman (Alicia Huberman), Claude Rains (Alexander Sebastian), Leopoldine Konstantin (Madame Anna Sebastian), Louis Calhern (Captain Paul Prescott), Moroni Olsen (Walter Beardsley), Ricardo Costa (Dr. Julio Barbosa), Reinhold Schünzel (Dr. Anderson), Ivan Triesault (Eric Mathis), and Eberhard Krumschmidt (Emil Hupka) Directed by Alfred Hitchcock (#219 - Rope, #223 - North by Northwest, #446 - Spellbound, #447 - Psycho, #450 - Vertigo, #455 - Rear Window, #553 - Strangers on a Train, and #800 - Shadow of a Doubt)

Review:
It has been a while since I covered a Hitchcock film on Movie Night, but I figured that it was time to do one that I had been thinking of doing for quite a while now, which is a brilliant spy film noir. The easiest benefit (aside from Hitchcock's direction, which I'll get to) is the trio of Grant, Bergman, and Rains. All three shine in their respective roles, with Grant and Bergman having great chemistry together, particularly during one stretch where the two engage in kissing alongside dialogue and looking at each other, and the sequence (lasting two-and-a-half minutes) is not only one of the most famous sequences in film but also a passionate one to watch. The production code of the time prevented kisses longer than 3 seconds, but the sequence works better than a scene that would've been allowed to linger on that kiss, in part because of the tension one can see between the two being framed better. Rains is also a good villain, being carefully crafted while also having his own kind of chemistry with Bergman, with the right kind of pace and movements.  Konstantin (an Austrian actress popular during the pre-war times in Germany in her only American film performance) is also pretty good. The rest of the cast is also pretty good in their roles. The camera shots are also a key standout, from the shots that introduce Grant's character to the shots from a character's point of view during the climax, with every shot having a key element of finesse to it. The story is crafted excellently, with love and duty being a strong theme that makes for a riveting movie that also has moments of suspense that deliver a great payoff. The climax is a fairly good one, utilizing the characters and story to conclude itself without resorting to a big battle or anything that wouldn't have worked for this movie; this is the kind of a movie where it ends on a character going back to their own house (resigned to their fate), and it's just a neat way to end both that arc and the movie. At 101 minutes, it certainly is a movie with a good pace, and I can definitely recommend checking out this movie, especially if you are a fan of Hitchcock and his work.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

Shadow of a Doubt.

Review #800: Shadow of a Doubt.

Cast
Teresa Wright (Charlotte "Charlie" Newton), Joseph Cotten (Charles "Charlie" Oakley), Macdonald Carey (Detective Jack Graham), Patricia Collinge (Emma Newton), Henry Travers (Joseph Newton), Wallace Ford (Detective Fred Saunders), Hume Cronyn (Herbie Hawkins), and Edna May Wonacott (Ann Newton) Directed by Alfred Hitchcock (#219 - Rope, #223 - North by Northwest, #446 - Spellbound, #447 - Psycho, #450 - Vertigo, #455 - Rear Window, and #553 - Strangers on a Train)

Review
Shadow of a Doubt benefits a great deal from being so tightly wound with suspense and thrills that never let up from beginning to end, the hallmark of a great film noir. Cotten is the first one introduced on screen, and whenever he appears he certainly has an alluring, likable charm, making for such a brilliant villain; when he lets out his other side (such as when he compares rich widows to fat wheezing animals) sneak onto the surface, it certainly makes for making this character very definable and very effective. Wright does a fine job as well, making for a great lead in that she has depth to her, not just being someone who happens to play onto all of these events; she has her struggles and her doubts about someone near to her, and it is all easy to relate and thus makes her character well defined. When she finally discovers the truth, it's a great scene because it finally culminates the clues sprinkled in beforehand (the inscription of the ring, ripping out a page of the paper, etc.), and the movie soon shifts into a game between the two Charlies. Wright and Carey share a good (if not extremely quick) rapport as well. The supporting cast is well done, doing their purpose and roles nicely, because they fit the movie well, being neither too distracting nor unhelpful to the plot. The final scene between the two of them is excellent, being a quick and effective climax that seals the movie neatly. Hitchcock described it as his favorite film, and it's evident that this really is one of his best films.

With that, 800 reviews have been written by yours truly in 1,979 days from December 20, 2010 to the present day. I am proud to have done this for over 5 years, and I am glad to have broadcast these reviews to all of you, wherever you are. I hope you enjoy this review, along with the previous and future installments of this show.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.