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Woody Allen's last American film (to date) is a simple diversion about a couple of college kids getting separated in the eponymous circumstances and getting snagged up in contrasting adventures. In a way, it takes us back to the director's early New York comedies...
Not just that Timothée Chalamet plays a lascivious, intellectual update of the old Woody persona but, more enjoyably, Elle Fanning clearly channels Diane Keaton in a delightful portrayal as a ditsy naif from small town America. She gives the screen a lot of light and energy.
And it takes us back to contemporary New York after Allen's European period, to the streets that he walked in the early classics. But 50 years on. If it all fades out with the lovers meeting in Central Park in the rain, it would feel appropriate.
There's little plot, just a loose chain of events evoking the charm and romance of life in the great metropolis and the sweet benevolence of chance. It doesn't feel like the work of an artist running down on inspiration and motivation. It is a film still fascinated by the hazards of the human heart.
Alfred Hitchcock returned to London for this loosely plotted comedy-thriller set in the theatres of the west end. Apparently he made it so he could visit his daughter Patricia at RADA. She makes her screen debut in a small role. And we get proper Hollywood stars and a wonderful British support cast.
It kicks off with Richard Todd telling Jane Wyman he had to clear up after Marlene Dietrich killed her (Marlene's) husband. This is shown in flashback, though it's revealed to be a lie. It's hard to understand the kerfuffle this caused; there were unreliable narrators long before Stage Fright.
The real joy is that gallery of character actors, particularly Alastair Sim and Kay Walsh who steal the film. Todd does well in a civilian role. Michael Wilding performs his usual Cary Grant impression as the detective with an eye for Wyman, as well as the killer.
Hitch always makes much out of a kiss, and the long prelude to Wilding and Wyman's clinch is a classic touch. The big weakness is Wyman's pallid performance. A touch of screwball from her would have brightened the occasional longueur. It's a bit short on thrills, but the cast makes it worthwhile.
It's difficult to watch Alfred Hitchcock's retread of his own 1934 thriller without comparing them. And not all the changes are unfavourable. James Stewart and Doris Day bring star power to the leads which eclipses the rather grey Leslie Banks and Edna Best. And Day's mental fragility is an interesting addition.
Some of the negativity that gathers around the update isn't really a fault: the original was a breakthrough by a director on the edge of greatness; the remake is the least of his amazing sequence of '50s thrillers. He owed his studio a film, and considered revisiting any of his British releases.
The best scene is still the climax at the Albert Hall. It is expanded to a considerable longer running time, but the suspense still holds. Composer Bernard Herrmann showed good judgement in retaining the same music. Reaction to Doris' lengthy singing of Que Sera Sera is probably a matter of personal taste.
The remake has a larger budget, more glamorous fashions, Technicolor and Vistavision and is 45 minutes longer. But these don't amount to better film. And it feels a little bloated at times, especially the long new ending at the embassy. It's a decent work of suspense. Its misfortune is that the Master had already made it so well.
This gorgeously touristic comedy thriller is beautifully photographed in Vistavision on the French Riviera. And only the most glamorous stars of its period would not be outshone by the chic locations. Alfred Hitchcock casts Cary Grant and Grace Kelly! This is pure Hollywood magic.
Grant (formerly of the Resistance!) protests he is not the cat burglar carrying out a series of jewel robberies in the fabulous hotels and chateaux of the super-rich, but no one believes him. Including the police. The star is in his absolute element with the racy screwball dialogue.
He outclasses the curiously awkward Grace Kelly, in the role she was surely born to play; a rich American on holiday on the Côte d'Azur looking for a suitable husband. She still catches the eye in those Edith Head costumes. And French actor Brigitte Auber makes an impression as her tomboyish rival.
It's completely weightless but so much fun. Including the visual innuendo of the firework display that signifies the stars' sexual congress. Hitch has left film noir behind and creates a genre of his own. This remains an indulgent treat. And the Vistavision looks amazing on HD television.
Yet another Alfred Hitchcock release from his early Hollywood years which is set in England. It's one of his oddest American films. It feels like it is building to a rather interesting murder trial but frustrates when it suddenly ends and the audience discovers it has watched a character study which is hardly a thriller at all.
There was a troubled production with the footage re-edited several times as studio boss David Selznick took control. Several scenes go on after any possible interest in them is over. He even wrote a whole new screenplay. Selznick and Hitchcock were always uneasy partners.
And Selznick shortened the film. Ethel Barrymore, who got an Oscar nomination based on the original cut, was left with three minutes of inconsequential screen time. Hitch was experimenting with long tracking takes, but Selznick snipped them out. The footage was later lost in an accident.
But while it is a disappointing film of doubtful psychology and little humour, it isn't boring and the director adds interest to the disjointed plot with some characteristic flourishes. Charles Laughton's voyeuristic interest in Ann Todd is one of the Hitchcock touches to survive. File this one under contractual obligations.
Exciting adaptation of Frederick Knott's London stage hit is one of Alfred Hitchcock's impediment films, almost entirely shot on a single set. Ray Milland plays a bitter and betrayed man of leisure who plans the perfect murder of his rich, unfaithful wife (Grace Kelly) which crumbles excruciatingly under investigation.
It's a clever murder story with the confinement of the action proving no barrier to friction free suspense and some satisfying complications. Hitch fills the set with memorable images, such as the ostentatious demise of a hired assassin (Anthony Dawson) killed with Kelly's sewing scissors.
Some critics see this as a rehearsal for Rear Window, which is similarly staged on a single set. But it is more than that. It's one of the best ever conversions of a traditional British stage thriller to the big screen, and enhanced with many virtuoso Hitchcock flourishes.
This kind of thriller is inevitably quite superficial, with flimsy characterisations and little relevance to real life. But, the unscrupulous Milland and the dapper (Columbo-esque) investigator John Williams make it fun. It was intended to be seen in 3D, which no longer seems a possibility.
This is one of Alfred Hitchcock's impediment films; entirely shot within a single room, mostly looking outward from the back of action photographer James Stewart's swanky New York apartment. The set of the Manhattan tenements is one of the most impressive man made structures in cinema.
The invalided photo-journalist grows addicted to voyeurism. His window is an opening into the lives of strangers. The inability to hear what is happening in their rooms means that Hitch is able to demonstrate his brilliant capacity for visual wit and storytelling- adapted from a short story by Cornell Woolrich..
The sustained suspense builds to a climactic frenzy when the lame hero observes his girlfriend (Grace Kelly) entering the apartment of a killer just as he returns home, while a woman below diverts his attention by taking an overdose of sleeping tablets. Stewart carries the film well, with fine support particularly from Thelma Ritter and Raymond Burr.
Some critics feel that this is a personal to Hitchcock because it about observing. The gaze and the cut to what is seen. Maybe, but Hitchcock is an acute observer of human behaviour rather than a philosopher. This mimics a cinematic process and the role of the audience, but it doesn't say anything profound about either. But it's still one of the great Hitchcock thrillers.
Alfred Hitchcock may have been reflecting on his experiences at UFA in Berlin in '24 when he made this taut and exciting film noir, as it is reminiscent of the expressionist films of the period, particularly the long flashback, and an impressive near silent performance from German actor Dolly Haas.
Montgomery Clift plays a priest suspected of murder who hears the confession of the real killer but is unable to break the sanctity of the sacrament in order to clear his own name. It's a thriller that's quite close to home for the Jesuit educated Hitchcock and the themes of catholicism and guilt are- of course- integral to his work.
Hitch didn't get on with his star and felt him unpredictable and uncooperative (and often drunk). But it's Clift's palpable anguish which makes this more emotionally compelling than the director's films often are. And Haas and OE Hasse are haunting in crucial support roles.
There is a strong evocation of the City of Quebec and the b&w photography is beautiful. Not absolute Grade A Hitchcock, but it's unique in his filmography and full of atmosphere. It's tempting to wonder if Clift's difficult time on location was a symptom of Hitch's indifference to his actors' motivations.
Polished spy thriller with Cary Grant as a CIA operative who runs party-girl Ingrid Bergman undercover in Rio de Janeiro to infiltrate a Nazi spy ring, and then become the wife of one of the prominent members (Claude Rains). It's one of Hitchcock's most critically praised film, particularly in relation to the developing love story between the two stars.
Though... arguably the romance doesn't stand so much scrutiny; the couple share levels of empathy which would shame a sociopath. Grant is willing for Bergman to enter the household of dangerous, scheming Nazis, and then marry one of them. Anything for the flag.
The story pulls in contrary directions. It's easier to suspend disbelief for this as a thriller than an exploration of the human heart. Though no one plays a woman in love as convincingly as the luminous Ms. Bergman. As a work of suspense, it's stunning and a classic example of the director's style.
There are quintessential Hitchcock set pieces. Like the ticking time bomb of the dwindling supply of champagne at a swanky party which compels Claude Rains down to the wine cellar where Cary and Ingrid are... discovering Nazi uranium. And many more! This is style over content. But what style!
There's the traditional hero of an Alfred Hitchcock thriller; the wrong man fleeing the law to clear his name. But the MacGuffin is an incident suppressed in the guilt complex of his psyche. It's among the first of the Freudian thrillers released after WWII. The authority of the subconsciousness became one of the Master's motifs.
Gregory Peck plays the doctor who must prove his innocence. When he and Ingrid Bergman (in her glasses and lab coat) appear as psychiatrists at the start of the film, they look so drop dead beautiful that it takes about 20 minutes to suspend disbelief. Rhonda Fleming maintains the glamour as a photogenic patient.
Made in peak period film noir, it is diverting to see a thriller which is preoccupied with whiteness. The frantic suspect reacts unpredictably to any memory of snow. There's a standard Hitchcock plot- adapted by Ben Hecht from a forgotten novel. It's the colour design with striking modernist touches which sets it apart.
The dream sequence featuring original artwork by Salvador Dali is crucial. But there are many startling and influential flourishes. When the camera tracks the disorientated suspect down a stairway and closes in on the cut throat razor in his hand, we could be watching '70s Italian Giallo. Realism isn't a priority, but this is still a stylish suspense classic.
Alfred Hitchcock's first colour film is an adaptation of Patrick Hamilton's play based on infamous real life killers Leopold and Loeb. It is one of the director's impediment films, set entirely within a single apartment in long edits of about eight minutes, joined by screen wipes. There is the illusion of a single 80 minute shot.
At the end of WWII, Hitch filmed footage in a concentration camp for the UK government and when he made it into a short film, he used long edits so hostile observers couldn't suggest he had changed the truth of these places through montage. He adopted this aesthetic for Rope.
Some feel the idea is gimmicky. James Stewart called it a film about the camera. But it still works as an exciting thriller. The searching camera and claustrophobic interior suits the theme; the exposure of sociopaths indoctrinated by eugenics who kill someone they consider inferior. It's a reflection on Nazi Germany.
While Rope is remembered for the original and complex staging, it is Hitch's most philosophical film. The script is analytical though still dramatic and exciting. Like in the climax when Stewart fires shots out of the window and we hear the sounds of strangers coming to help, who contrast with the elitist intellectual solipsism of the murderers.
This is among of a few Alfred Hitchcock films made in a Hollywood studio but set in England, and with a predominantly British cast. It is a thriller from a novel by Francis Iles about a frumpish spinster (Joan Fontaine) who marries a dangerous sociopath (Cary Grant) and grows to fear for her life.
And that premise conceals a number of difficulties. In 1941, Fontaine was a very beautiful young woman and there is little about her character that is unappealing. And Grant was the great screwball star of the period, but a limited dramatic actor and his portrayal is idiotic.
But the main problem is derived from Hollywood star etiquette. The plot continually stretches plausibility until it eventually rips apart during a climax purely devised because RKO wouldn't let Cary Grant play a murderer. Still, despite these fundamental weaknesses, it's an entertaining film
This is mainly thanks to the Master's imaginative visual approach. It is shot in the emerging film noir style with its ominous house of shadows. Fontaine does her best and won the Oscar she deserved for Rebecca a year earlier, playing another vulnerable new wife. It's a flawed woman in peril thriller with a few nice moments of black comedy.
Perhaps Alfred Hitchcock's least celebrated release from his American period, but there are still points of interest. He persists with the long edits used in Rope, but with less of a rigid aesthetic; there are some reaction shots cut in, and it is set in multiple locations.
It was admired by French critics, but failed everywhere else as audiences weren't going to pay a babysitter to go and watch a Hitchcock costume melodrama. As a historical film, it's high on hokum, but there is an interesting, if preposterous story and the Australian setting is a novelty.
Ingrid Bergman is miscast as an Irish alcoholic but whenever a scene catches fire, it's when she's on screen. Joseph Cotten broods effectively, but Michael Wilding seems more intent on impersonating Cary Grant than a 19th century Irish aristocrat. His future wife Margaret Leighton is better as a Mrs. Danvers type housekeeper.
There are a few memorable episodes, particularly a dinner party held by a murderer (Cotten) which the ladies of Sydney are too genteel to attend, and broken up by a pie eyed Ms. Bergman. It's a rare Hitchcock film that has nothing to offer, but it's not obvious why he made this one.
When Alfred Hitchcock was about to go to Hollywood, he expressed a desire to work with Carole Lombard. The year after, she had a comedy already in production at RKO and offered it to the Englishman. And so the Master of Suspense met the Queen of Screwball.
Lombard and Robert Montgomery discover three years after their wedding that they are not married after all. And she decides she wants to be single again and play the field. They are one of those Hollywood screwball couples who live in a swanky apartment in Manhattan where they mix cocktails and dress for dinner.
She's as great as ever, and Jack Carson also scores in a familiar supporting role as an amiable klutz. Hitch's comedy tended to be quite dark, but this is a decent farce with a few genuine laughs. Though I suspect even a film student would struggle to detect the hand of the Master.
Maybe the brief disorientated point of view shot on an out of control fairground ride, might be claimed as a Hitchcock touch... Lombard is on more familiar ground. This is principally a vehicle for the frantic comic persona of its legendary screwball star.
With the war on in Europe and the US public largely disinterested, the legion of expats and Jews in Hollywood worked to turn public opinion towards entering the war against Germany. This is the first of Alfred Hitchcock's American films made in the style of his British thrillers, and his first anywhere to name the Nazis as the enemy.
It's a picaresque adventure, with decent comedy and superb visual touches. It is even set mostly in England, as an American reporter (Joel McCrea) chases down a key Dutch diplomat who has been kidnapped by terrorists. McCrea and Laraine Day are anaemic leads, but there's some fine support.
When Edmund Gwenn is performing an adorable cameo, we could be back with Hitch at Gaumont. For once George Sanders gets to play a hero not a heel. It treads water badly at halfway (and Hitch would have got this done half an hour sooner in the UK), but it recovers with an exciting and well staged plane crash at sea.
This isn't one of the Master's most suspenseful thrillers, but it is packed with wonderful imagery, like the chase of a would-be assassin viewed from above through a sea of umbrellas. Joseph Goebbels called it a masterpiece of propaganda. McCrea's final broadcast from the blitz to the US audience is the real purpose of the film; this is your fight too.