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Post by Deleted on Feb 28, 2017 18:27:43 GMT
MARNIE actually my favourite of the lot by some margin (have seen all from first 39 STEPS)
For me its the most moving of love stories - between an imperfect people - she's frigid, and a compulsive thief and liar - he's a manipulative sexual blackmailer/rapist - and they live happily ever after.
Other favourites roughly in order to make a top ten
VERTIGO SHADOW OF A DOUBT THE BIRDS STAGE FRIGHT (criminally underrated) REAR WINDOW PSYCHO REBECCA STRANGERS ON A TRAIN BLACKMAIL
The only two I really disliked were THE PARADINE CASE and THE WRONG MAN
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Post by Nalkarj on Feb 28, 2017 22:22:31 GMT
MARNIE actually my favourite of the lot by some margin (have seen all from first 39 STEPS)
For me its the most moving of love stories - between an imperfect people - she's frigid, and a compulsive thief and liar - he's a manipulative sexual blackmailer/rapist - and they live happily ever after.
Other favourites roughly in order to make a top ten
VERTIGO SHADOW OF A DOUBT THE BIRDS STAGE FRIGHT (criminally underrated) REAR WINDOW PSYCHO REBECCA STRANGERS ON A TRAIN BLACKMAIL
The only two I really disliked were THE PARADINE CASE and THE WRONG MAN I agree that Stage Fright is rather absurdly underrated, but I'd still only describe it as middling Hitchcock (which is to say, far better than many other filmmakers!). It does contain a typically ebullient-yet-cynical performance from Alastair Sim, a favorite actor of mine, quite similar to his performance as Insp. Cockrill in Green for Danger ('46). One of the problems with Stage Fright is that it's a whodunit. Now, there's nothing wrong with a whodunit per se--on the contrary, I love them, as anyone here who has read my analysis of Perry Mason's plotting (in the '50s TV folder) knows!--but Hitchcock never liked them. He didn't like them when he made one ( Murder) in 1930, and he didn't like them 20 yrs. later with this. All those murders in Hitchcock's films tended not to be the cruces on which the plot turned but rather, as Spiderwort wrote, the "McGuffins," used so that Hitch could get to the real story. He was just never all that great with clues and alibis and that kind of stuff; he preferred dealing in human emotion rather than plotting intrigue. So Stage Fright lacks the emotional appeal and gravitas that he seems to give many of his great masterpieces, turning it into a fun, entertaining story that is not as much of a trifle as something like Mr. and Mrs. Smith (oy!) or To Catch a Thief, but it's still not one of the great Hitchcocks. It is an amusing, enjoyable picture, however. Good thoughts on Marnie. By the way, what does everyone think of Young and Innocent? It's an underrated favorite for me.
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Post by gunshotwound on Mar 1, 2017 0:58:04 GMT
Hitchcock is probably my favorite director. I have seen all of his sound movies and I like all but a couple of them. Psycho is my favorite Hitchcock movie. No one mentioned Topaz. Topaz gets very little love but I like it a great deal. I like the fact that the actors are not big stars like Cary Grant, James Stewart, Eva Marie Saint, James Mason, Sean Connery, Kim Novak and Grace Kelly.
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Post by Doghouse6 on Mar 1, 2017 2:24:31 GMT
MARNIE actually my favourite of the lot by some margin (have seen all from first 39 STEPS)
For me its the most moving of love stories - between an imperfect people - she's frigid, and a compulsive thief and liar - he's a manipulative sexual blackmailer/rapist - and they live happily ever after.
Other favourites roughly in order to make a top ten
VERTIGO SHADOW OF A DOUBT THE BIRDS STAGE FRIGHT (criminally underrated) REAR WINDOW PSYCHO REBECCA STRANGERS ON A TRAIN BLACKMAIL
The only two I really disliked were THE PARADINE CASE and THE WRONG MAN I agree that Stage Fright is rather absurdly underrated, but I'd still only describe it as middling Hitchcock (which is to say, far better than many other filmmakers!). It does contain a typically ebullient-yet-cynical performance from Alastair Sim, a favorite actor of mine, quite similar to his performance as Insp. Cockrill in Green for Danger ('46). One of the problems with Stage Fright is that it's a whodunit. Now, there's nothing wrong with a whodunit per se--on the contrary, I love them, as anyone here who has read my analysis of Perry Mason's plotting (in the '50s TV folder) knows!--but Hitchcock never liked them. He didn't like them when he made one ( Murder) in 1930, and he didn't like them 20 yrs. later with this. All those murders in Hitchcock's films tended not to be the cruces on which the plot turned but rather, as Spiderwort wrote, the "McGuffins," used so that Hitch could get to the real story. He was just never all that great with clues and alibis and that kind of stuff; he preferred dealing in human emotion rather than plotting intrigue. So Stage Fright lacks the emotional appeal and gravitas that he seems to give many of his great masterpieces, turning it into a fun, entertaining story that is not as much of a trifle as something like Mr. and Mrs. Smith (oy!) or To Catch a Thief, but it's still not one of the great Hitchcocks. It is an amusing, enjoyable picture, however. Good thoughts on Marnie. By the way, what does everyone think of Young and Innocent? It's an underrated favorite for me. To address your last question first, Young and Innocent/ The Girl Was Young rates very highly in my estimation of Hitchcock's most satisfying British thrillers (in which I include both Stage Fright and Frenzy, to which I'll return momentarily for some stylistic and thematic comparisons). As the most modest and intimate of his "wrongly accused man on the run" exercises, it imparts in place of spectacle an innate sweetness that's effectively embodied in its appealing protagonists, which in turn is realized with equal appeal in the engaging characterizations of Derrick De Marney and Nova Pilbeam. It's interesting to note in passing that, in this and all of Hitchcock's prior and subsequent forays into variations of that sub-genre until North By Northwest, the one element missing is that of a fascinating and fully-fleshed villain. That addition is among the elements that rendered NBN what screenwriter Ernest Lehman intended as "the ultimate Hitchcock thriller:" Cary Grant as Roger Thornhill, our charming innocent whose name needs clearing, is balanced by the equally charming yet lethally malevolent Vandamm as played by James Mason. It's a lesson the director hadn't forgotten when returning to the form (and to Britain) one last time for Frenzy. Before NBN, he came closest to it with Stage Fright, which is, as you say, a whodunit...but also isn't. It might be called a whodunit that Hitchcock pretended wasn't: we're led to believe from the outset that Charlotte is the guilty party (making the charismatic and dominating Marlene Dietrich the fascinating and fully-fleshed supposed villain), but in place of a charming innocent - personified in other films by Robert Donat, De Marney, Robert Cummings and Montgomery Clift, among them - we're presented with the surly and volatile Jonathan as portrayed by Richard Todd. The charm is all on the side of Michael Wilding as the detective posing a threat to Jonathan, and to whom Eve's (Jane Wyman) growing attraction generates internal conflict. This is some high-wire-walking for Hitchcock: our sympathies are more compelled by the affable D.I. "Ordinary" Smith and his and Eve's mutual attraction than by her blind devotion to high-strung Jonathan, and perhaps explains why SF hasn't been as appreciated as it might have been; viewers are unsure of for whom they should be rooting. This brings up one of SF's connections to Frenzy (as well as to NBNW): an equally surly and volatile protagonist in the form of Jon Finch's Richard Blaney (who ultimately finds himself facing a foe every bit as compellingly complex and formidable as Vandamm). Where Hitchcock restored the balance missing from SF was in revealing the truly guilty party much earlier on and, having done so, set about softening Blaney thereafter so that audience loyalties are unconflicted for the rest of the proceedings. As another side note, it's interesting to consider that the "whodunit that Hitchcock pretended wasn't" form was again employed in Psycho, wherein we're led to believe we know the identity of the guilty party until the climactic revelation, removing the aspect of unemotional intellectual exercise that Hitchcock most opposed about traditional whodunits. Other qualities linking YAI/ TGWY, SF and Frenzy are the senses of small-scale intimacy and modest production previously cited in place of cross-country pursuits, grand action set pieces and chases across (or dangling from) national landmarks. Although both SF and Frenzy were financed by major U.S. studios, it's as though Hitchcock, on those rare occasions of returning to his homeland, once again willingly adopted the "make the most of the least" practices by which he'd often felt constrained before his move to the U.S., and from which that move had been intended to liberate him with bigger budgets and expanded resources. Yet, even with that freedom, he periodically returned to those "make the most of the least" roots by challenging himself with self-imposed restraints in the form of daring experiments such as Rope, Dial M For Murder and what emerged as three of his most artistically successful, Lifeboat, Rear Window and the aforementioned Psycho.
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Post by marshamae on Mar 1, 2017 2:32:04 GMT
I love Topaz but it's a bit of a guilty pleasure. The cast is very uneven, with Frederick Stanford playing a big block of wood. Karen D'or and Dany Robin are excellent but it's hard to believe they are in love with Stanford. The mime sequences are handled beautifully by Roscoe Lee Brown , less well by his partner who plays Uribe, the Castro Secretary. I never can make up my mind about John Vernon. I can't point to any action or line reading that seems wrong, so maybe it's the script. His scenes with Karin Dor are awful.
The film opens with a tremendous spy sequence, the défection of the Russian. Then they drop him and follow John Forsyth . Then they introduce the French spy, his family and his French and Cuban colleagues, and at that point I have attachment disorder. Too many main characters.
All the Cuban spy stuff is great, and the Harlem stuff is wonderful, agitated , hectic , just as Castro's stay was. Kudos to Hitchcock fir getting that right, with the one weakness in the mime mentioned above.
Tge first time I saw this film I was very impressed with the death of one character. Her purple robe spread out on the floor making an amazing shot. Subsequent viewings revealed tge wires used to achieve the flow of the dress. It's something I've come to recognize as a flaw in Hitchcock's work, cheesy special effects. For some reason he was driven to use special effects, but not to perfect them. Blue screen work in Saboteur and psycho, macro shots in Lady Vanishes, all as creaky as could be.
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cineastewest
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Post by cineastewest on Mar 1, 2017 2:56:03 GMT
My favorite Hitchcock story is he used to make his own Christmas card (he started off as a designer of title cards) and one year this was sent out as the family Christmas card:
ABCDEFG HIJKMNO QRSTUVW XYZ
No "L"
Get it?
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Post by london777 on Mar 1, 2017 5:21:39 GMT
ABCDEFG HIJKMNO QRSTUVW XYZNo "L" Get it? Sure, but there is no "P" either and I don't get that.
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gadolinium
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Post by gadolinium on Mar 1, 2017 21:45:35 GMT
One of the greatest Hollywood filmmakers. Any superlative used to describe his work would be a giant understatement. One can learn all the ins & outs of film directing from watching this man's movies. My personal favorite is The Wrong Man (1956), followed by North by Northwest (1959).
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Post by naterdawg on Mar 2, 2017 15:40:18 GMT
Hitchcock was a genius as a filmmaker. He storyboarded all his films carefully frame by frame and by the time he actually filmed found that it was boring, because he felt like he'd already done it. And he always knew how long his films would be - they rarely were more than a couple of minutes off of what he planned. Then, of course, there's the Hitchcock theory of suspense, which revolutionized filmmaking - the great example being that of having two characters talking at a table and then blowing them up with a bomb as opposed to having a bomb nearby about to go off that the audience is aware of but the characters aren't. Now that creates real suspense! And, of course, there's his popularization of the "MacGuffin" - the plot device that seems to be the main story but is really just a mechanism for telling the real story that's very different. Like trapping the Nazi in Notorious, which in reality provides the platform for the love story. He was never considered an actor's director, but there's no question that actors in Hitchcock films always gave outstanding performances. So though he was once was quoted as saying that actor were like cattle, he must have done something right. Shadow of a Doubt was Hitchcock's personal favorite. It's my second. Notorious is my first. My other favorites: Vertigo Foreign Correspondent Spellbound Rear Window The Trouble with Harry North by Northwest The Birds The 39 Steps The Lady Vanishes SaboteurI admire Psycho greatly, but it's never been a favorite. Strongly recommend that anyone who's interested in Hitchcock read "Hitchcock," a book length interview by Francois Truffaut. What a superb analysis of Hitchcock. Thank you, Spiderwont. Shadow of a Doubt is my favorite Hitchcock; I would give Vertigo that terribly subjective title "the best." We have a number of favorites in common (though I am not as big a fan of Foreign Correspondent, Spellbound, or The Trouble with Harry as you), so that's also something nice as well! And a sincere thanks for describing (without knowing it) my opinion on Psycho, which many people to whom I've talked have never understood: great admiration, but it's never been a favorite. That "analysis" isn't original. It was first discussed when Francois Truffaut interviewed Hitch years ago.
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Post by Nalkarj on Mar 2, 2017 18:43:12 GMT
That "analysis" isn't original. It was first discussed when Francois Truffaut interviewed Hitch years ago. naterdawg, that's why I wrote at the end of my post, "Strongly recommend that anyone who's interested in Hitchcock read 'Hitchcock,' a book length interview by Francois Truffaut." I took salzmank's comments to mean that my distillation of certain concepts was a good one. BUT: My comments about Hitchcock as an actor's director are not from that book, but from my years of experience in the business. I haven't had enough time to respond to all the comments I should, but that's exactly what I meant, Spiderwort. Your thoughts were excellent and excellently expressed (and original, though of course inspired by other sources—as everyone's thoughts are!). And, yes, I've read Truffaut's interviews.
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Post by Nalkarj on Mar 2, 2017 19:34:39 GMT
I agree that Stage Fright is rather absurdly underrated, but I'd still only describe it as middling Hitchcock (which is to say, far better than many other filmmakers!). It does contain a typically ebullient-yet-cynical performance from Alastair Sim, a favorite actor of mine, quite similar to his performance as Insp. Cockrill in Green for Danger ('46). One of the problems with Stage Fright is that it's a whodunit. Now, there's nothing wrong with a whodunit per se--on the contrary, I love them, as anyone here who has read my analysis of Perry Mason's plotting (in the '50s TV folder) knows!--but Hitchcock never liked them. He didn't like them when he made one ( Murder) in 1930, and he didn't like them 20 yrs. later with this. All those murders in Hitchcock's films tended not to be the cruces on which the plot turned but rather, as Spiderwort wrote, the "McGuffins," used so that Hitch could get to the real story. He was just never all that great with clues and alibis and that kind of stuff; he preferred dealing in human emotion rather than plotting intrigue. So Stage Fright lacks the emotional appeal and gravitas that he seems to give many of his great masterpieces, turning it into a fun, entertaining story that is not as much of a trifle as something like Mr. and Mrs. Smith (oy!) or To Catch a Thief, but it's still not one of the great Hitchcocks. It is an amusing, enjoyable picture, however. Good thoughts on Marnie. By the way, what does everyone think of Young and Innocent? It's an underrated favorite for me. To address your last question first, Young and Innocent/ The Girl Was Young rates very highly in my estimation of Hitchcock's most satisfying British thrillers (in which I include both Stage Fright and Frenzy, to which I'll return momentarily for some stylistic and thematic comparisons). As the most modest and intimate of his "wrongly accused man on the run" exercises, it imparts in place of spectacle an innate sweetness that's effectively embodied in its appealing protagonists, which in turn is realized with equal appeal in the engaging characterizations of Derrick De Marney and Nova Pilbeam. It's interesting to note in passing that, in this and all of Hitchcock's prior and subsequent forays into variations of that sub-genre until North By Northwest, the one element missing is that of a fascinating and fully-fleshed villain. That addition is among the elements that rendered NBN what screenwriter Ernest Lehman intended as "the ultimate Hitchcock thriller": Cary Grant as Roger Thornhill, our charming innocent whose name needs clearing, is balanced by the equally charming yet lethally malevolent Vandamm as played by James Mason. It's a lesson the director hadn't forgotten when returning to the form (and to Britain) one last time for Frenzy. Before NBN, he came closest to it with Stage Fright, which is, as you say, a whodunit...but also isn't. It might be called a whodunit that Hitchcock pretended wasn't: we're led to believe from the outset that Charlotte is the guilty party (making the charismatic and dominating Marlene Dietrich the fascinating and fully-fleshed supposed villain), but in place of a charming innocent - personified in other films by Robert Donat, De Marney, Robert Cummings and Montgomery Clift, among them - we're presented with the surly and volatile Jonathan as portrayed by Richard Todd. The charm is all on the side of Michael Wilding as the detective posing a threat to Jonathan, and to whom Eve's (Jane Wyman) growing attraction generates internal conflict. This is some high-wire-walking for Hitchcock: our sympathies are more compelled by the affable D.I. "Ordinary" Smith and his and Eve's mutual attraction than by her blind devotion to high-strung Jonathan, and perhaps explains why SF hasn't been as appreciated as it might have been; viewers are unsure of for whom they should be rooting. This brings up one of SF's connections to Frenzy (as well as to NBNW): an equally surly and volatile protagonist in the form of Jon Finch's Richard Blaney (who ultimately finds himself facing a foe every bit as compellingly complex and formidable as Vandamm). Where Hitchcock restored the balance missing from SF was in revealing the truly guilty party much earlier on and, having done so, set about softening Blaney thereafter so that audience loyalties are unconflicted for the rest of the proceedings. As another side note, it's interesting to consider that the "whodunit that Hitchcock pretended wasn't" form was again employed in Psycho, wherein we're led to believe we know the identity of the guilty party until the climactic revelation, removing the aspect of unemotional intellectual exercise that Hitchcock most opposed about traditional whodunits. Other qualities linking YAI/ TGWY, SF and Frenzy are the senses of small-scale intimacy and modest production previously cited in place of cross-country pursuits, grand action set pieces and chases across (or dangling from) national landmarks. Although both SF and Frenzy were financed by major U.S. studios, it's as though Hitchcock, on those rare occasions of returning to his homeland, once again willingly adopted the "make the most of the least" practices by which he'd often felt constrained before his move to the U.S., and from which that move had been intended to liberate him with bigger budgets and expanded resources. Yet, even with that freedom, he periodically returned to those "make the most of the least" roots by challenging himself with self-imposed restraints in the form of daring experiments such as Rope, Dial M For Murder and what emerged as three of his most artistically successful, Lifeboat, Rear Window and the aforementioned Psycho. Again, what can I say? Excellent thoughts, Doghouse. I suppose I'll come right out and confess I haven't seen Frenzy--I know, I know! It is a lapse I intend on rectifying soon, however. Thanks for the words on Young and Innocent, with which I am in complete agreement. I don't think your analysis of Stage Fright is incongruous with mine, if I may say so (though yours is far better). "A whodunit that Hitchcock pretended wasn't" is closely connected to why he pretended so, which is exactly because, as you say, he disliked the form (and, more so, the stylistic formalism of the whodunit). What I meant, in a way, is that Stage Fright fails because all of the script's instincts are towards the whodunit form--the surface narrative ("McGuffin") of the sleuthing, the end twist which is not truly surprising (exactly because, as you note, Todd's Jonathan is surly and and ill-tempered)--while Hitchcock's instincts lean towards the suspense thriller with deeper meaning. The disjunction between script and director seems to make it a movie pulled in two opposite directions--which makes it interesting to analyze but not all that satisfying to watch (IMO, of course). (By the way, if I may digress to fight a bête noire that I have been fighting since the first time I watched Hitchcock: everyone uses "Hitchcockian," an overused but useful term, to mean "twisty." Of course, as Spiderwort and you and I, Doghouse, have pointed out, it's nothing of the kind. In fact, "Hitchcockian" may truly mean a rejection of the conventional "surprise!" twists and turns of the thriller plot. NbNW is a great example: there was no need for Hitchcock and Lehman to reveal that George Kaplan doesn't exist early on in the picture. The majority of directors and screenwriters, I suppose, would use it as a "surprise!" twist, probably around the point when Leo G. Carroll's spymaster is explaining everything to Cary Grant; Hitchcock negates the surprise, emphasizes the suspense, and returns our attention to the characters, to whom, in his opinion, it truly belongs. That is why I, on another thread, wrote that the superb Panic Room ['02] was one of the few actually Hitchcockian modern thrillers I've seen. Psycho, admittedly, is the big exception here, but even there Hitchcock telegraphs the twist earlier than one may expect.) I agree entirely with your last two paragraphs (with the necessary exception of Frenzy, which as I said I haven't seen). By the way, connected to our points before, Dial M may be the closest Hitchcock ever actually came to the whodunit form. Yes, it's an "inverted mystery," à la Columbo, so there's no mystery as to the killer, but it contains one moment (the business with Swann's latchkey) that unites at once in the viewer surprise (the twist) and inevitability (the clues)--what in drama is called anagnorisis. So, in one way, we've got Hitchcock directing that key moment to whodunits, in a non-whodunit--showing that he's at least very able at the form, even if he did dislike it!
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Post by Doghouse6 on Mar 3, 2017 2:11:38 GMT
Earlier quotes omitted to save space. Again, what can I say? Excellent thoughts, Doghouse. - And again, thank you. I'm experimenting with ways of handling the "quote/reply" format here, so I hope you'll bear with me as I give this one a road test and reply to your equally excellent thoughts below. I suppose I'll come right out and confess I haven't seen Frenzy--I know, I know! It is a lapse I intend on rectifying soon, however. - With Frenzy, you'll see Hitchcock jumping headlong into the graphically permissive '70s while still returning to those modest roots of which I spoke earlier, making the atmosphere at once familiar, and yet not. With his old-school British reserve and mischievous humor very much in evidence, serving as both personal and professional self-homage while providing crucial contrast to the film's more shocking envelope-pushing, it's comfortable, but fresh. And although bearing scant surface resemblance to most of the big-studio gloss and name-star recognition of his Warners-Paramount-Universal work of the '50s-'60s, it's full of arresting and unmistakable Hitchcock touches, and its absence of internationally-known players in favor of accomplished home-grown actors works to its advantage. My intention here has been to whet your appetite, and I hope you'll come to admire it as much as I do. Thanks for the words on Young and Innocent, with which I am in complete agreement. I don't think your analysis of Stage Fright is incongruous with mine, if I may say so (though yours is far better). "A whodunit that Hitchcock pretended wasn't" is closely connected to why he pretended so, which is exactly because, as you say, he disliked the form (and, more so, the stylistic formalism of the whodunit). What I meant, in a way, is that Stage Fright fails because all of the script's instincts are towards the whodunit form--the surface narrative ("McGuffin") of the sleuthing, the end twist which is not truly surprising (exactly because, as you note, Todd's Jonathan is surly and and ill-tempered)--while Hitchcock's instincts lean towards the suspense thriller with deeper meaning. The disjunction between script and director seems to make it a movie pulled in two opposite directions--which makes it interesting to analyze but not all that satisfying to watch (IMO, of course). - Yes, I believe we're in accord. One might have expected Hitchcock to exploit the inherent suspense of our heroine aiding a known-to-the-audience killer while being unaware of his guilt, but as he sometimes did, he became more fascinated with a narrative gimmick (the flashback that lied, in this case) and the psychology of divided loyalties and internal conflict. As you point out, the film is pulled in opposite directions (just as Eve is).
Still, as with any disappointing Hitchcock, repeated viewings have allowed appreciation and enjoyment of many gem-like moments interspersed within. (By the way, if I may digress to fight a bête noire that I have been fighting since the first time I watched Hitchcock: everyone uses "Hitchcockian," an overused but useful term, to mean "twisty." Of course, as Spiderwort and you and I, Doghouse, have pointed out, it's nothing of the kind. In fact, "Hitchcockian" may truly mean a rejection of the conventional "surprise!" twists and turns of the thriller plot. NbNW is a great example: there was no need for Hitchcock and Lehman to reveal that George Kaplan doesn't exist early on in the picture. The majority of directors and screenwriters, I suppose, would use it as a "surprise!" twist, probably around the point when Leo G. Carroll's spymaster is explaining everything to Cary Grant; Hitchcock negates the surprise, emphasizes the suspense, and returns our attention to the characters, to whom, in his opinion, it truly belongs. That is why I, on another thread, wrote that the superb Panic Room ['02] was one of the few actually Hitchcockian modern thrillers I've seen. Psycho, admittedly, is the big exception here, but even there Hitchcock telegraphs the twist earlier than one may expect.) - I suspect that misperception has as much to do with the twin '50s-'60s marketing of the TV series and his monthly print digest ("The Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine," no less) as anything, as well as a natural cultural kinship with other pop fixtures of the era such as The Twilight Zone, One Step Beyond or The Outer Limits characteristically trading in those twists. And in mentioning Psycho, you've highlighted again its connection to Stage Fright: both it and Frenzy rectify SF's narrative missteps, but in entirely different ways. I agree entirely with your last two paragraphs (with the necessary exception of Frenzy, which as I said I haven't seen). By the way, connected to our points before, Dial M may be the closest Hitchcock ever actually came to the whodunit form. Yes, it's an "inverted mystery," à la Columbo, so there's no mystery as to the killer, but it contains one moment (the business with Swann's latchkey) that unites at once in the viewer surprise (the twist) and inevitability (the clues)--what in drama is called anagnorisis. So, in one way, we've got Hitchcock directing that key moment to whodunits, in a non-whodunit--showing that he's at least very able at the form, even if he did dislike it! - "Anagnorisis!" I love learning new words, and even if I should be ashamed to admit it, that's a new one to me. Actually, I'm not sure I'd heard the phrase "inverted mystery" before, either. I remember Dick Van Dyke in his Archive Of American Television interview back in the '90s referring to the stories done on his then-current Diagnosis: Murder as encompassing both "open mysteries" and "closed mysteries." Industry jargon at the time, I guess.
Anticipating his move to Paramount, where he was to enjoy what came closest to the ultimate artistic freedom to which he'd aspired, Hitchcock still owed Warners two pictures on their earlier deal, so it's a point of interest that he again went off the beaten track, so to speak, in fulfilling those commitments with two "experiments:" another adapted-from-the-stage and single-set-bound property with the added gimmick of 3-D (Dial M), and the stark, somber and documentary-like The Wrong Man.
Among the joys of Dial M is the presence of John Williams, in the first of several Hitchcock associations, as the fussy yet unflappable Insp. Hubbard. When you get around to Frenzy, you may discern a "chip off the old block" resemblance in the equally unflappable (albeit more affably relaxed) Insp. Oxford played by the delicious (and recently deceased) Alec McCowan. Out of nowhere, it occurs to me that, had circumstances played out differently, Williams would have made a perfectly lovely - and lovably exasperated - Q in the earlier James Bond pictures. Ya think?
I was just about to submit this post when I suddenly remembered that McCowan himself played Q when Sean Connery revisited the Bond franchise after a hiatus of more than a decade (Never Say Never Again), if one decidedly different in spirit from that of Desmond Llewelyn: McCowan's Q is impish and conspiratorial: "Now you're on this, I hope we're going to have some gratuitous sex and violence," he enthuses to Bond.
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moonlight91
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Salutations
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Post by moonlight91 on Mar 3, 2017 5:05:01 GMT
By the way, what does everyone think of Young and Innocent? It's an underrated favorite for me.
[/quote]
I first saw Young and Innocent a few months back and will confess that I barely paid as much attention to it as I had originally thought (I had not realized Guy was the husband shown earlier as my entire thought process went "Who are you?" During the reveal). Did do a rewatch last week and while it's not my favorite British Hitchcock film, there is a comedic charm to it. The cameo cracked me up when seeing Hitchcock trying to get a photo although I wished the music during the reveal had its own score because it is quite catchy.
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Post by simpsonsfan742 on Mar 9, 2017 19:45:18 GMT
By the way, what does everyone think of Young and Innocent? It's an underrated favorite for me. Someday, I'll need to watch that. I'm still in my 8-10 years(as of now, wow!) process, of trying to watch through as many Hitchcock movies as I can very slowly. This process started in a way back in the mid-2000s, when for a writing and movie college class I watched The Birds. After that I checked out the DVD of Psycho from somewhere(either a rental store or public library), and the rest is history from there! I'd say so far, my favorites remain(in NO order, btw) Psycho, North by Northwest, Strangers on a Train, Dial M For Murder, to name some of the ones that come to my mind. Rope, which was the most recent Hitchcock movie I saw(only DAYS ago!), was great as well. Ditto with at least the Salvador Dali dream sequence, you see in the movie Spellbound(and IMO, the most interesting part of that movie). Sigh, I have a weird feeling I'm going to forget one or 2 really good Hitchcock movies, I did see. Next on my list of Hitchcock movies to watch is I Confess, Marnie, and Frenzy. I have Frenzy checked out from the library, as of right now!
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shawshanked
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Post by shawshanked on Mar 9, 2017 21:48:39 GMT
By the way, what does everyone think of Young and Innocent? It's an underrated favorite for me. Someday, I'll need to watch that. I'm still in my 8-10 years(as of now, wow!) process, of trying to watch through as many Hitchcock movies as I can very slowly. This process started in a way back in the mid-2000s, when for a writing and movie college class I watched The Birds. After that I checked out the DVD of Psycho from somewhere(either a rental store or public library), and the rest is history from there! I'd say so far, my favorites remain(in NO order, btw) Psycho, North by Northwest, Strangers on a Train, Dial M For Murder, to name some of the ones that come to my mind. Rope, which was the most recent Hitchcock movie I saw(only DAYS ago!), was great as well. Ditto with at least the Salvador Dali dream sequence, you see in the movie Spellbound(and IMO, the most interesting part of that movie). Sigh, I have a weird feeling I'm going to forget one or 2 really good Hitchcock movies, I did see. Next on my list of Hitchcock movies to watch is I Confess, Marnie, and Frenzy. I have Frenzy checked out from the library, as of right now! Frenzy is an underrated movie. Hitchcock returns to his roots one last time with it. Marnie is similar to Spellbound and Vertigo. If you liked those two, you'll probably like Marnie. If you didn't, then you probably won't. I Confess is good but not really memorable.
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Post by Nalkarj on Mar 9, 2017 23:03:24 GMT
Doghouse, I think you may be onto something here, re: organizing a response. I'm going to experiment with it. And I loved the exchange between you and salzman. Don't agree with everything, though mostly I do, but it was extremely stimulating to read - thoughtful, intelligent, well-written. Thanks to you both. I know I haven't been around to respond to all these comments several days ago (and I still have little time in my schedule to do so!), but my sincere thanks for your kind words, Spiderwort!
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Post by Nalkarj on Mar 10, 2017 0:11:55 GMT
Again, what can I say? Excellent thoughts, Doghouse. - And again, thank you. I'm experimenting with ways of handling the "quote/reply" format here, so I hope you'll bear with me as I give this one a road test and reply to your equally excellent thoughts below. I suppose I'll come right out and confess I haven't seen Frenzy--I know, I know! It is a lapse I intend on rectifying soon, however. - With Frenzy, you'll see Hitchcock jumping headlong into the graphically permissive '70s while still returning to those modest roots of which I spoke earlier, making the atmosphere at once familiar, and yet not. With his old-school British reserve and mischievous humor very much in evidence, serving as both personal and professional self-homage while providing crucial contrast to the film's more shocking envelope-pushing, it's comfortable, but fresh. And although bearing scant surface resemblance to most of the big-studio gloss and name-star recognition of his Warners-Paramount-Universal work of the '50s-'60s, it's full of arresting and unmistakable Hitchcock touches, and its absence of internationally-known players in favor of accomplished home-grown actors works to its advantage. My intention here has been to whet your appetite, and I hope you'll come to admire it as much as I do. Thanks for the words on Young and Innocent, with which I am in complete agreement. I don't think your analysis of Stage Fright is incongruous with mine, if I may say so (though yours is far better). "A whodunit that Hitchcock pretended wasn't" is closely connected to why he pretended so, which is exactly because, as you say, he disliked the form (and, more so, the stylistic formalism of the whodunit). What I meant, in a way, is that Stage Fright fails because all of the script's instincts are towards the whodunit form--the surface narrative ("McGuffin") of the sleuthing, the end twist which is not truly surprising (exactly because, as you note, Todd's Jonathan is surly and and ill-tempered)--while Hitchcock's instincts lean towards the suspense thriller with deeper meaning. The disjunction between script and director seems to make it a movie pulled in two opposite directions--which makes it interesting to analyze but not all that satisfying to watch (IMO, of course). - Yes, I believe we're in accord. One might have expected Hitchcock to exploit the inherent suspense of our heroine aiding a known-to-the-audience killer while being unaware of his guilt, but as he sometimes did, he became more fascinated with a narrative gimmick (the flashback that lied, in this case) and the psychology of divided loyalties and internal conflict. As you point out, the film is pulled in opposite directions (just as Eve is).
Still, as with any disappointing Hitchcock, repeated viewings have allowed appreciation and enjoyment of many gem-like moments interspersed within. (By the way, if I may digress to fight a bête noire that I have been fighting since the first time I watched Hitchcock: everyone uses "Hitchcockian," an overused but useful term, to mean "twisty." Of course, as Spiderwort and you and I, Doghouse, have pointed out, it's nothing of the kind. In fact, "Hitchcockian" may truly mean a rejection of the conventional "surprise!" twists and turns of the thriller plot. NbNW is a great example: there was no need for Hitchcock and Lehman to reveal that George Kaplan doesn't exist early on in the picture. The majority of directors and screenwriters, I suppose, would use it as a "surprise!" twist, probably around the point when Leo G. Carroll's spymaster is explaining everything to Cary Grant; Hitchcock negates the surprise, emphasizes the suspense, and returns our attention to the characters, to whom, in his opinion, it truly belongs. That is why I, on another thread, wrote that the superb Panic Room ['02] was one of the few actually Hitchcockian modern thrillers I've seen. Psycho, admittedly, is the big exception here, but even there Hitchcock telegraphs the twist earlier than one may expect.) - I suspect that misperception has as much to do with the twin '50s-'60s marketing of the TV series and his monthly print digest ("The Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine," no less) as anything, as well as a natural cultural kinship with other pop fixtures of the era such as The Twilight Zone, One Step Beyond or The Outer Limits characteristically trading in those twists. And in mentioning Psycho, you've highlighted again its connection to Stage Fright: both it and Frenzy rectify SF's narrative missteps, but in entirely different ways. I agree entirely with your last two paragraphs (with the necessary exception of Frenzy, which as I said I haven't seen). By the way, connected to our points before, Dial M may be the closest Hitchcock ever actually came to the whodunit form. Yes, it's an "inverted mystery," à la Columbo, so there's no mystery as to the killer, but it contains one moment (the business with Swann's latchkey) that unites at once in the viewer surprise (the twist) and inevitability (the clues)--what in drama is called anagnorisis. So, in one way, we've got Hitchcock directing that key moment to whodunits, in a non-whodunit--showing that he's at least very able at the form, even if he did dislike it! - "Anagnorisis!" I love learning new words, and even if I should be ashamed to admit it, that's a new one to me. Actually, I'm not sure I'd heard the phrase "inverted mystery" before, either. I remember Dick Van Dyke in his Archive Of American Television interview back in the '90s referring to the stories done on his then-current Diagnosis: Murder as encompassing both "open mysteries" and "closed mysteries." Industry jargon at the time, I guess.
Anticipating his move to Paramount, where he was to enjoy what came closest to the ultimate artistic freedom to which he'd aspired, Hitchcock still owed Warners two pictures on their earlier deal, so it's a point of interest that he again went off the beaten track, so to speak, in fulfilling those commitments with two "experiments:" another adapted-from-the-stage and single-set-bound property with the added gimmick of 3-D (Dial M), and the stark, somber and documentary-like The Wrong Man.
Among the joys of Dial M is the presence of John Williams, in the first of several Hitchcock associations, as the fussy yet unflappable Insp. Hubbard. When you get around to Frenzy, you may discern a "chip off the old block" resemblance in the equally unflappable (albeit more affably relaxed) Insp. Oxford played by the delicious (and recently deceased) Alec McCowan. Out of nowhere, it occurs to me that, had circumstances played out differently, Williams would have made a perfectly lovely - and lovably exasperated - Q in the earlier James Bond pictures. Ya think?
I was just about to submit this post when I suddenly remembered that McCowan himself played Q when Sean Connery revisited the Bond franchise after a hiatus of more than a decade (Never Say Never Again), if one decidedly different in spirit from that of Desmond Llewelyn: McCowan's Q is impish and conspiratorial: "Now you're on this, I hope we're going to have some gratuitous sex and violence," he enthuses to Bond. Just superb, as usual. I was able to watch Frenzy a few days ago, and--how's this for cutting off suspense and surprise?--I completely agree with you. I enjoyed just about every minute of it, in particular the ways in which it serves as an embodiment of the themes ever-present throughout Hitchcock's career: as you wrote, "...it's full of arresting and unmistakable Hitchcock touches..." Frenzy may well be the real cumulation of Hitch's career, just as The Lodger was its progenitor. (The parallels are even more precise, in fact: neither is an actual bookend of Hitchcock's career, but each represents a stylistic bookend: The Lodger is the first true flourishing of Hitch's talents and themes and Frenzy the last [with Family Plot as a nice little dessert, as Donald Spoto called it].) The acting in the film was particularly good as well; it would have been nice to have had Hitchcock's original choice for Rusk, Michael Caine, but Foster did very well in the role. (And, as you say, "...its absence of internationally-known players in favor of accomplished home-grown actors works to its advantage.") Also, I should note that I thought the script incredibly strong, supplied by a favorite writer of mine, Anthony Shaffer (who also, probably most famously, wrote Sleuth and The Wicker Man, as well as the adaptations of Agatha Christie's Death on the Nile and Evil Under the Sun). I thought Frenzy an excellent film, probably on my second-tier, if not my first, of favorite Hitchcocks, which is really very high indeed. When I have more time, I can discuss it more in detail on this thread. Oh, and was "whetting my appetite" a reference to the film? Particularly Insp. Oxford's comments? (By the way, my agreement on the subject of McCowan and Oxford. The ways in which Oxford is both similar to and different from Hubbard are brilliantly conveyed and so very important to the film's themes and penumbrae.) Just to clarify on Stage Fright: "not all that satisfying to watch" does not mean "not enjoyable." I happen to think Stage Fright is very enjoyable; I particularly enjoy the playing. But I just don't find it satisfying as a Hitchcock film or as a film in general. I know you probably understood that; I'm just, as I say, trying to clarify what I wrote. I'm sure you're right about AHMM, but it does still boggle me, if only because there are film critics, who ought to be (somewhat!) knowledgable, talking about how such-and-such-twisty movie is "Hitchcockian." (Heck, I've seen Deathtrap, a favorite movie of mine that I re-watched the other day on TCM, described as "Hitchcockian"!) "Still, as with any disappointing Hitchcock, repeated viewings have allowed appreciation and enjoyment of many gem-like moments interspersed within." Complete agreement. "'Anagnorisis'! I love learning new words, and even if I should be ashamed to admit it, that's a new one to me. Actually, I'm not sure I'd heard the phrase 'inverted mystery' before, either. I remember Dick Van Dyke in his Archive Of American Television interview back in the '90s referring to the stories done on his then-current Diagnosis: Murder as encompassing both 'open mysteries' and 'closed mysteries.' Industry jargon at the time, I guess." No shame about anagnorisis! I wouldn't have known it myself were it not described by a very knowledgable source (especially on the subject of mysteries), "Archer Brisbane," on this site. He also wrote excellent comments on it here (under the name of "Freddy Bastion"). It refers to sudden, epiphanic revelation that changes one's perception of what has come before--in other words, the very "d'oh! It was obvious, I should have known!" that comes at the end of a well-written detective story. (It has also been called, less ceremoniously, "the Homer Simpson effect"!) The term " inverted detective story," sometimes also "howcatchem," refers to the Columbo- Dial M format, of course, in which one knows the identity of the murderer from the beginning and in which the "mystery" centers around how the detective will be able to catch that person. This is distinct from the whodunit, as a matter of course, but also from the "twist" thriller (e.g., Deathtrap and Sleuth). In all of these subgenres, however, it is entirely possible to have a sudden, transformative, epiphanic revelation that is at once shocking and inevitable, though it is most common, because of the form, in the whodunit. I've seen bits and pieces of Never Say Never Again: it's great to see Sean playing Bond again (heck, I'd happily see him do it now!), no matter who made it, when, or why, but the picture on the whole strikes me as rather dull. So, while I have seen it, I didn't see McCowan's "Q"! With that said, I agree he'd be a fine Q in the early films, though I'd never wish to take anything away from Desmond Llewelyn, whom I miss more and more while watching the Craig Bonds!
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Post by Nalkarj on Mar 10, 2017 0:21:20 GMT
By the way, what does everyone think of Young and Innocent? It's an underrated favorite for me. Someday, I'll need to watch that. I'm still in my 8-10 years(as of now, wow!) process, of trying to watch through as many Hitchcock movies as I can very slowly. This process started in a way back in the mid-2000s, when for a writing and movie college class I watched The Birds. After that I checked out the DVD of Psycho from somewhere(either a rental store or public library), and the rest is history from there! I'd say so far, my favorites remain(in NO order, btw) Psycho, North by Northwest, Strangers on a Train, Dial M For Murder, to name some of the ones that come to my mind. Rope, which was the most recent Hitchcock movie I saw(only DAYS ago!), was great as well. Ditto with at least the Salvador Dali dream sequence, you see in the movie Spellbound(and IMO, the most interesting part of that movie). Sigh, I have a weird feeling I'm going to forget one or 2 really good Hitchcock movies, I did see. Next on my list of Hitchcock movies to watch is I Confess, Marnie, and Frenzy. I have Frenzy checked out from the library, as of right now! Young and Innocent remains a favorite of mine. Post your thoughts when you do get around to it, and I hope you enjoy Frenzy, which I've only recently seen, on Doghouse's recommendation, but which has quickly become another favorite. I agree with many of your favorites (I think Dial M is underrated by the folks who think it only a straight adaptation of the play: I think it's a great deal more than that), particularly with your thoughts on Spellbound: the dream sequences are the best parts of what I think is an overrated, rather slow movie!
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Post by Doghouse6 on Mar 13, 2017 2:18:15 GMT
First, may I say how delighted I am with your enjoyment of Frenzy, and add some praise of my own for this insight:
I can't imagine a more astute and concisely stated observation (how I wish I'd thought of it), and to which, these three days after first reading it, I still can't add a single amplification, expansion or embellishment. For the time being, I'll just have to, as my shrink used to say 30+ years ago, "be with that thought for awhile." Diverting momentarily from Frenzy but relating to Hitchcock, there was, back on IMDB, a sort of mini-community that developed on the Psycho board, involving some names besides mine with which you might be familiar from this forum, and generating a consistently active collection of in depth and wide-ranging exchanges, both on and off topic, that could often extend into weeks. It's been resurrected, more or less, on moviechat.org/ where some of we die-hards have picked up where we left off. Although it doesn't offer elaborate formatting options available here or on IMDB, it has recreated the discussion boards for specific titles and individuals and, sensing a kindred spirit amenable to such exchanges, I'm guessing it's a place in which you might feel right at home, at least as an alternative to the more generalized boards to be found here. Consider this encouragement to drop in sometime. Further to my earlier thoughts, I guess it has to be considered that even supposedly film-savvy critics and commentators can become entrapped by both broad generalizations and narrow thinking, which in the case of Hitchcock, has to do merely with the subject matter (what we might call civilized murder and mayhem). With that as a framework, some see disappointingly little difference between Hitchcock and, say, Agatha Christie. I recall reading a remark Jerry Lewis made during his directing heyday of the '60s: "When people decide whether or not to see a film, they ask only two questions: who's in it and is it in color?" Whatever his shortcomings, I do consider Lewis both a man with extensive insider knowledge of film craft and an intelligent one, yet that represented his own too-broad but also too-narrow thinking. But both examples say as well something about their respective perceptions of audience expectations as they related to each of them. For his own, Lewis may actually have been onto something: color and Jerry Lewis told consumers all they needed to know. So it is with some who should know better about Hitchcock and murder. But it's been my experience that the most commonly-asked question about any film is, "What's it about?" And a fair number of critics still get too hung up on the "about," some straying farther into synopsis than critique. When it comes to the difference between critique and analysis, it's difficult for me to put too much stock into any of the latter that evaluates a film the same way some evaluate an automobile: it looks stylish, handles briskly and offers both comfort and up-to-the-minute conveniences. To be honest, that's the pretty much the way I evaluate one, knowing not a lick about compression ratios or suspensions or differentials and whatnot. And I think that's the way Hitchcock intended his films to be watched: just sit back and enjoy the ride. But I'd never take my car to a mechanic who thought that way. From them, I expect - as from any serious film analyst - an understanding of what makes it run and behave as it does. And among the things I believe made Hitchcock so successful and satisfying as a film maker was his multi-level appeal: for those caring only about the ride and handling, he offered the finest, but there were always clever mechanical design innovations right under the hood for those who cared to look and see what made them tick.
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Post by Nalkarj on Mar 15, 2017 1:31:28 GMT
First, may I say how delighted I am with your enjoyment of Frenzy, and add some praise of my own for this insight:
I can't imagine a more astute and concisely stated observation (how I wish I'd thought of it), and to which, these three days after first reading it, I still can't add a single amplification, expansion or embellishment. For the time being, I'll just have to, as my shrink used to say 30+ years ago, "be with that thought for awhile." Diverting momentarily from Frenzy but relating to Hitchcock, there was, back on IMDB, a sort of mini-community that developed on the Psycho board, involving some names besides mine with which you might be familiar from this forum, and generating a consistently active collection of in depth and wide-ranging exchanges, both on and off topic, that could often extend into weeks. It's been resurrected, more or less, on moviechat.org/ where some of we die-hards have picked up where we left off. Although it doesn't offer elaborate formatting options available here or on IMDB, it has recreated the discussion boards for specific titles and individuals and, sensing a kindred spirit amenable to such exchanges, I'm guessing it's a place in which you might feel right at home, at least as an alternative to the more generalized boards to be found here. Consider this encouragement to drop in sometime. Further to my earlier thoughts, I guess it has to be considered that even supposedly film-savvy critics and commentators can become entrapped by both broad generalizations and narrow thinking, which in the case of Hitchcock, has to do merely with the subject matter (what we might call civilized murder and mayhem). With that as a framework, some see disappointingly little difference between Hitchcock and, say, Agatha Christie. I recall reading a remark Jerry Lewis made during his directing heyday of the '60s: "When people decide whether or not to see a film, they ask only two questions: who's in it and is it in color?" Whatever his shortcomings, I do consider Lewis both a man with extensive insider knowledge of film craft and an intelligent one, yet that represented his own too-broad but also too-narrow thinking. But both examples say as well something about their respective perceptions of audience expectations as they related to each of them. For his own, Lewis may actually have been onto something: color and Jerry Lewis told consumers all they needed to know. So it is with some who should know better about Hitchcock and murder. But it's been my experience that the most commonly-asked question about any film is, "What's it about?" And a fair number of critics still get too hung up on the "about," some straying farther into synopsis than critique. When it comes to the difference between critique and analysis, it's difficult for me to put too much stock into any of the latter that evaluates a film the same way some evaluate an automobile: it looks stylish, handles briskly and offers both comfort and up-to-the-minute conveniences. To be honest, that's the pretty much the way I evaluate one, knowing not a lick about compression ratios or suspensions or differentials and whatnot. And I think that's the way Hitchcock intended his films to be watched: just sit back and enjoy the ride. But I'd never take my car to a mechanic who thought that way. From them, I expect - as from any serious film analyst - an understanding of what makes it run and behave as it does. And among the things I believe made Hitchcock so successful and satisfying as a film maker was his multi-level appeal: for those caring only about the ride and handling, he offered the finest, but there were always clever mechanical design innovations right under the hood for those who cared to look and see what made them tick. Ah, thanks again for the kind words, Doghouse. I've been mulling over how exactly to respond. Both on the bases of surface plot and of thematic meaning, The Lodger and Frenzy have much in common, which sparked my comment there. Thanks for inviting me to the Psycho board; is the thread still under Psycho on moviechat.org? (By the way, while I greatly appreciate that board's replication of the IMDb Boards format, I'm still having difficulties with accessibility there; I did post the "Who Sang the Cole Porter Songs in Sleuth?" question there too, but I prefer the ease-of-access here [and at IMDF]. Even so, of course if the dialogue is good, that makes it all worth it!) Excellent thoughts about the surface plots of Hitchcock films and critics' perfunctory "analysis" because of the superficial similarity to (e.g.) Christie. I've also been wondering if one reason, particularly for film critics, is because much of Hitch's image has been created, somewhat on purpose, by the TV show ( Alfred Hitchcock Presents/ The Alfred Hitchcock Hour), and that show, even in its Hitchcock-directed episodes, did tend to focus on plot twists that were either anathema or downplayed in Hitchcock's cinematic work. Your criticisms of the critics are spot-on, and I share them completely (as did my favorite film critic, the late Andrew Sarris). Everything for these critics is synopsis, synopsis, synopsis, to such an extent that there is very little analysis or critique at all. The film critic's job, of course, is to be a critic, not a summarizer. One of the (several) problems with the democratization of film criticism is that it diminishes the art, causing even many of the critics to think that summary is a worthy substitute for any actual analysis of the picture in question. The simple truth is, of course, it's not. It's for that reason that I have defended the critic Armand White on this forum and elsewhere; his reviews contain very little summary, if any (after all, with the Internet, even those coming in without having seen the movie have probably read about it elsewhere), and a great deal of detailed analysis. Do I agree with his critiques? Very rarely indeed. But I greatly respect that White is actually doing his job. You're absolutely correct about Hitchcock's "multi-level appeal." He can be viewed either as the "Master of Suspense" or as much more than that simple appellation; on both levels, his work is deeply satisfying and enjoyable.
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