Film Reviews by Steve

This is a silent screwball comedy about a feckless it-girl  taught a lesson by her rich father who pretends to have lost the lot on the stock exchange, so she has to get a job! Alfred Hitchcock might not quite have the Lubitsch touch, but it is pleasant enough frou-frou with a couple of real laughs.

The English actor Betty Balfour plays the American heiress in France and she is the big weakness. The former revue artist was only 25 but already looks too matronly for the role and lacks the star charisma of Clara Bow who was making this sort of jazz babe comedy in Hollywood.

Gordon Harker takes the acting honours as her crafty dad, a Wall Street high roller. Which was not the sort of part he played after the coming of sound! Hitchcock was seen by British International Pictures as a comedy director and they refused to allow the Master to develop his own ideas.

There is little of his trademark style. The best is  a point of view shot of a pair of tango dancers seen through a glass of... champagne. The film wasn't a success, though it isn't bad by the standards of British silents. But something had to give.

 Alfred Hitchcock signed with British International Pictures in order to develop his own projects, but that lasted just one film. A year after The Ring flopped he was back to adapting stage comedies. The legendary Master of Suspense was dormant.

This is a charming and genuinely funny comedy of manners which doesn't include any trademark point of view shots or much visual style at all. Hitch does a decent job at adapting the play's dialogue into visual humour, though the cast is unremarkable.

A  middle aged farmer and widower (Jameson Thomas) of limited visual appeal decides it's time to remarry and so proposes to each of the similarly alluring spinsters in the village only to find they aren't interested in spending the rest of their lives with the cantankerous blowhard.

Fortunately, his attractive, astute and congenial housekeeper (Lillian Hall-Davies) sees through all his faults and after being overlooked for years, agrees to be his wife (and take over the farm). Gordon Harker steals the film as a rather repellent factotum cum freeloader.

This is Alfred Hitchcock's only sporting drama, though he would stage an extended tennis match in Strangers on a Train. It's a boxing film which doesn't land too many punches, yet is admired by critics. This is the only release for which he has sole writing credit.

But if he signed with British International Pictures in search of greater creative control, he fluffed it. This is his follow up to his breakthrough hit with The Lodger but not a suspense film. It's a love triangle which concludes in the ring with the two rivals literally fighting over the girl (Lillian Hall-Davies).

Former real life boxer Carl Brisson lends his scenes some welcome charisma. Gordon Harker makes yet another appearance in a Hitchcock silent as his trainer. The Australian adversary (Ian Hunter) is a bit unscrupulous, so there is someone to root for. Though there isn't much star quality to lift the drama.

The climactic bout is well edited but the boxing choreography doesn't stand up. We get some impressionistic point of view shots when one of the fighters takes a punch and loses focus. There is some period interest, but it drags all too often and is too long.

This is the one that the Master of Suspense liked to think of as the first true Alfred Hitchcock film, though it took a while for him to make good on its promise. This is his strongest candidate for the best British silent, but- Anthony Asquith apart- that's not much of a contest.

An unknown serial killer is murdering blondes in London. Handsome superstar of UK silents, Ivor Novello, plays the jittery innocent man who the police and the public figure for the killer. So, he establishes the Hitchcock archetype of the wrong man who must clear his name. And the focus on blonde victims is unmissable.

It's full of riffs and motifs and that we would see continually over the years (including a cameo from the director). The story is told with great clarity and suspense, with moments of humour. And for the first time, his camera truly comes alive.

Hitch returned from Germany obviously influenced by expressionism. And we see many memorable visual images, like when the family of the landlord are discussing their new tenant, and the ceiling disappears to reveal the agitated lodger pacing in the room above. And there's the first of many thrilling climaxes.

This slight, fatalistic film noir was written by Cornell Woolrich who would recycle variations on this plot many times, about an innocent accused of murder, unable to track down the witness who would save his life. Its director Robert Siodmak was one of many Germans to emigrate from the home of expressionism to American noir, and this is the best version of the familiar premise.

Alan Curtis plays a middle class malcontent, stood up by his elegant but selfish wife, who instead spends the evening at a theatre with a stranger on the understanding they won't talk about themselves and never meet again. When Curtis' wife is killed and he needs an alibi, that premise for an evening's diversion proves catastrophic! Curtis' secretary (Ella Raines) must trace the woman and free her boss.

 Odd there is no musical score, but it is still phenomenally suspenseful. Siodmak was a genius at assembling a scene. The way he fits the images together is sensual and artistic. There's an evocation of German silent horror, amplified by the Peter Lorre-esque performance of Franchot Tone as an artist experiencing psychopathic delusions of grandeur.

There's a glorious noir look of the rain soaked streets and train stops crisscrossed by the secretary as she searches for the phantom lady. But everyone mainly remembers this for the scene with Elisha Cook as a jazz drummer and Raines sleuthing undercover as a hepcat. The eroticism implied by Cook's lengthy drum solo is jaw dropping and transcends an already outstanding noir.

This lesser known Billy Wilder comedy is a near remake of his co-script on Ninotchka. Jean Arthur plays a straightarrow Senator from the corn belt who visits the ruins of postwar Berlin to investigate misconduct by the occupying US army. Only she falls for the main culprit (John Lund) who is keeping a mercenary ex-mistress (Marlene Dietrich) of a leading Nazi in soap and coffee.

The Senator is a moralist who goes by the rules. She learns the facts of life soon enough, and discovers her own humanity. The Berliners do what they can to survive, and dignity is the commodity they can least afford.  This is Wilder's second comedy, and begins his signature of attributing a cynical humour to a scenario more typical of melodrama. 

The director fled the Nazis in the '30s and his mother was killed in a concentration camp. Yet he shows pragmatic sympathy for the survivors of defeat, as well as indulgence towards the US soldiers. But the mood gets progressively darker until it eventually feels a bit like watching film noir.

As the ice maiden who thaws, Arthur lacks appeal. Lund is credible, though hasn't much charm. But Marlene Dietrich is a sensation, especially when singing three sardonic cabaret numbers by Friedrich Hollaender. Wilder and Charles Brackett give her some persuasive, poetic editorials to deliver, and she nails them.

A year after Blackmail, Alfred Hitchcock made another suspense film adapted freely from a stage play. But Murder! is more of an English style detective story than a thriller. It stars Herbert Marshall, who was The Master's first really successfully cast leading man.

Marshall lost a leg in WWI, so it's hard to imagine him doing action scenes. Hitch didn't use him again until Foreign Correspondent in 1940. He plays an aristocrat on a jury who begins to question the guilty verdict and decides to investigate. Hitch regular Edward Chapman is enjoyable as his sidekick.

There's a famously innovative scene  when we hear the gentleman detective's interior monologue.  The primitive technology meant a recording was made of Marshall's voice and played back as he shaved, staring mutely into the mirror, while accompanied by a live orchestra!    

There's an exciting climax when the real murderer- a cross dressing trapeze artist- is chased down while performing his act and accidentally hangs himself. Another Hitchcock villain who falls to his death. While the  character's sexuality is accepted, there are dated reflections on him being of mixed race. It's slow, and a bit creaky, but still entertaining.

Britain's first talkie is quite accomplished, using many sound motifs and effects. The most celebrated is the the stabbing, wounding repetition of the word 'knife' emerging from the indistinct murmur of a longwinded busybody as the traumatised east-ender who kills in self defence (Anny Ondra) cuts a slice of bread.

She is blackmailed, while her detective boyfriend investigates... Alfred Hitchcock got around his beautiful star's dense middle European accent by having Joan Barry stand next the the camera and speak as Anny mouths the words. Though Barry's cut glass received pronunciation sounds as much like Cockney as the Czech actor's own voice.

It's based on a play by the Master's ongoing collaborator Charles Bennett, but only once gets mired in a long static scene of dialogue. Most critics prefer the silent version which was released into cinemas not fitted for sound (which is considerably shorter). But I prefer the talkie, which after all is a landmark in UK cinema.

It was the director's most visually accomplished film to date, even with the impediment of sound. Unusually, the story ends with the pursuit of the blackmailer, rather than the killer who walks free. The climax is the first staged by Hitch at a familiar tourist site, the British Museum. And the hunted man wouldn't be the last Hitchcock villain to fall to his death.

This was a change of course for Sidney J. Furie after directing a couple of Cliff Richard vehicles. It's shot in the documentary style of the British new wave. Rita Tushingham plays a working class girl who leaves school at sixteen and gets married to the similarly inexperienced Colin Campbell. They prove incompatible.

The husband finds escape through his love of motorbikes. His gang are the leather boys of the title. It is fertile with images from the world of bikers in the mid-sixties and their hang-outs, particularly the Ace Cafe on the A1 where they start their pivotal race. The visual record of the period is a big part of the attraction.

Campbell meets Dudley Sutton, another young biker, though more worldly, who becomes a role model. But Sutton has an unexpected other life. Tushingham is the nominal star, but Sutton dominates with an irresistible performance. The real draw is his relationship with Campbell. Both still kids, but having to behave like adults, not yet sure what the rules are.

This is more of a low budget reflection on the sixties working class than a UK version of The Wild Ones; more reportage than melodrama. It's a must see for those who enjoy the new realism that reinvigorated British cinema between the war and the permissive society.

This is the final part of Hammer’s Quatermass trilogy adapted from the BBC serials. There is obviously a modest budget- the sets are bare and the effects and models are scarcely state of the art even for the '60s. Though they are still an upgrade from the tv originals. And this one is in colour.

The main attraction is Nigel Kneale's erudite, beguiling concept which reaches back into deep history in search of the horrific origins of man's bloody nature, replete with fascinating ideas of how this origin story manifests itself throughout history in apparitions, witchcraft and occult folklore. 

Excavations for a new underground station uncover a missile or a spaceship, and eventually reveals its huge locust-like occupants . Professor Quatermass (Andrew Kier) leads the scientific exploration of the site, bringing him into conflict with civilian and military Government.

Analysis, and research into parish archives leads to the discovery of... well a thrilling and audacious twist! Kneale had a special imagination and he delivers a knockout story/allegory. Its theory of a fundamentally divided humanity seems more prescient than ever. And gets ripped off all the time.

For many years, Woody Allen's characters fantasised about living in Paris... Owen Wilson plays a successful screenwriter who has just written his debut novel. He loves the city and dreams of the 1920s when it was host to American writers and the great artists of Europe. This is magic realism, and a close companion to The Purple Rose of Cairo.

Estranged from his materialistic fiancée and her rich, conservative parents, the author dreams so intensely of his golden age that he discovers a portal back in time, and meets Hemingway, Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald and Picasso. He gives his novel to Gertrude Stein. He explains his predicament to surrealists Dali and Man Ray.  

And he falls in love with Picasso's model/lover (Marion Cotillard), who herself dreams of La Belle Époque and Paul Gaughin and Toulouse-Lautrec, who in turn revere the Renaissance. The legends of the '20s are wonderfully cast, with Corey Stoll a stand out as Hemingway. It's a nostalgic reflection on the nature of nostalgia; an optimistic film which spills over with a love of life.

 And it's a spectacular flight of imagination. The photography of is drop dead gorgeous. The opening scene is a long montage of the landmarks which is more than touristic; it tells us, that this place is enchanted and to prepare for extraordinary things to happen. This is Woody's best film of the century.

One of the most gorgeous low budget films ever made. Not just the photography but the editing, lighting and set design. You could take a random still and paste it into a book of photography to represent the look of film noir and its melancholy beauty. Whether the decorative stars, its interiors in deep focus or the stunning location shots of Los Angeles.

It's a star vehicle for Burt Lancaster as an armoured car driver who has drifted back into LA to be sexually manipulated by his gorgeous ex-wife (Yvonne De Carlo) who plans to marry a gangster (Dan Duryea). The broken, doomed security guard offers his services to the mob as the inside operator in a heist.

The story is mostly told in layers of flashback, and seems influenced by Out of the Past (1947), with the pessimistic dialogue, the style of De Carlo's costumes and the gloomy, tainted romance of the lovers lost on the wrong turns of the lonely roads of noir. This is not the equal of Jacques Tourneur's classic, but exceeds it in visual artistry.    

The production code insisted that nothing will end well. But there are hints that America is moving out of postwar austerity; Yvonne works in a prosperous department store and Burt literally carts bundles of money around... Robert Siodmak assembles each scene with formidable craft. The plot is standard noir. But this is so beautiful.

This is faithfully adapted from a short story by DH Laurence, about a lonely eight year old boy (John Howard Davies), and his oedipal desire for his elegant, materialistic mother (Valerie Hobson) who is frustrated at the inability of her husband (Hugh Sinclair) to provide.

Aided by his uncle (Ronald Squire) and the gardener (John Mills), who both like a flutter, the child discovers that when he rides his rocking horse, he can predict winners of horse races at very advantageous odds. They become rich and use the money to try and quench Hobson's averice. But every time, the boy has to ride the horse harder for the same reward.

So it's a Freudian allegory. The rocking horse scenes are shot like wild, opiated, expressionistic dreams, and they build to a raw, intense climax. And a petit mort... These episodes are beautifully photographed, with a superb score. 

 It doesn't really work as a realistic narrative- there's no sensible reason why the boy should be able to predict horse race winners so successfully! But the film is a sinister and compelling parable on greed.  It's a classic of British cinema and a true original. 

After the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbour brought the United States into WWII, Alfred Hitchcock planned to rework The 39 Steps into a propaganda film. David Selznick held the Master's contract but wasn't interested and offered the project and his director to Universal.

It hasn't the magic of the earlier film. Hitch couldn't get Gary Cooper and Barbara Stanwyck and had a B film budget. But Robert Cummings is fine as the working everyman accused of industrial sabotage who flees into the American heartland to clear his name. He is that staple of Hollywood cinema: the individual who is placid in peace, but determined under threat.

Some encounters advance opportunities to express patriotism. Others teach us to be wary of strangers. I like the episode when the hero, hooked up with the prickly, suspicious Priscilla Lane, travels with a train of carnival performers who are eager to discuss the principles of democracy. 

And it all ends up with the famous showdown up on top of the Statue of Liberty, a location offering a very literal illustration of what they were fighting for. It's a minor Hitchcock, but out of a meagre budget and B-stars he still made a fine film of comedy and suspense. Which gives us a reason to fight.

Unpretentious social realist crime film from Cy Endfield, one of the directors who pitched up in the UK after being forced out of Hollywood by the communist witch hunt. His early productions in this country were formula cheapies released under a pseudonym.

For this British classic, he went back to his own name and politics.  It's a proletariat story about how the workers fight each other and the bosses exploit their division. It was surely influenced by Henri-Georges Clouzot's gorgeous, fatalistic trucker-noir The Wages of Fear. This isn't in that class, but it stands comparison with any of Hollywood's haulage melodramas.

There is an unbelievable cast from top to bottom, Banks to Peters. Patrick McGoohan and the great Stanley Baker excel as the toughest maniacs in the drivers pool, half way between a bonus and oblivion. But Sean Connery is in there too, and a hard to recognise Jill Ireland. Herbert Lom, Peggy Cummins, William Hartnell. It goes on, and on.

The exciting truck chases are extremely well filmed. There's a low budget, but lots of compelling action, and its political message still stands. It seems to have developed a cult following. It's a key entry among many excellent British noir and gangster films made after WWII.