Rebecca

When you’re watching a Hitchcock movie, it’s a sublime experience as you let yourself go to a grand master. Hitchcock moves the film along perfectly. It’s a simplistic story, but his flairs are at once apparent and riveting. Beginning with a young, nameless girl who acts as a lowly servant to a pudgy mistress vacationing by the sea, we see an innocent and beautifully photographed Joan Fontaine as she is swept away by Maxim de Winter. She’s brought to a vast, cultured castle and is expected to adopt all of the habits of her predecessor, Rebecca de Winter. Through trickery and deception, she occasionally makes a fool of herself, breaking things and sitting at the end of a long table filling the seat of a woman supposedly better than her. Everything she does is contrasted against Rebecca, and Hitchcock illustrates this in one stunning shot that backs up from a close-up on Fontaine’s fidgety face to the massive room she solitarily inhabits. The plot grows more complicated, and there are hidden truths about the former Mrs. de Winter that are inevitably revealed, but what’s at the center of Hitchcock’s first American film is an exclusively American girl (Fontaine), who’s swept up by all the style and secrets of a grand castle, burned down by her innocence and novelty in a world that expects something different, but, from the inside, burns down into modernity.

★★★★★/5 

The Body Snatcher

THE BODY SNATCHER is a wonderful cheap film from Val Lewton. Directed by Robert Wise, the film features both Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff, slightly before their more illustrious careers. Based off of a Robert Louis Stevenson story, THE BODY SNATCHER follows a young medical student named Donald as he comes under the wing of Dr. MacFarlane. MacFarlane is a famous and prestigious doctor, but he instructs more than anything else, and when a young girl comes to him in search of a surgery to cure her paralysis, he turns her away, lamenting that he has not learned enough about human anatomy. With Donald, he discusses a shady affair he maintains with a cabman named Gray. Gray (Karloff) is commissioned by MacFarlane to dig up newly dead bodies in order to use for instruction. MacFarlane justifies this because he knows that he will be able to save the living with what he learns, but never really exerts this notion concretely, shying away from opportunities, and prompting the meek Donald to keep his secret. Soon, however, Gray realizes his power, and exerts it. In the climax of the film, there's a brilliant and beautifully impressionistic chase scene: cheaply made but smartly executed, which is how the entire film acts, simplistically telling a short story devised moral, while maintaining smart visuals.

★★★

I Walked With a Zombie

I WALKED WITH A ZOMBIE is where the zombie genre starts, set off by the cheap Lewton-produced b-filmery that characterizes Jacques Tourneur. Tourneur, whose masterpieces come before and after this film, was a master of film noir, and that comes out the most in I WALKED WITH A ZOMBIE. Told by a single, female narrator, Tourneur's film recollects a young nurse's time spent at St. Sebastien, one of those Caribbean islands plagued by the history of slavery. Betsy spends her time trying to gain the favor of her boss, a tale and mustached elite, while juggling his odd and gloomy brother, piercing mother, and zombified wife. She is completely unaware of anything, and Betsy tries to cure her of this affliction. Outside of the gates, however, is the black culture, overtaken by voodoo in a dastardly fashion both political and morally questionable. I WALKED WITH A ZOMBIE is effective because it relies on imagery and tone to guide its story. It is odd and dreamy, occasionally melancholy and unhopeful. But this is what should characterize the genre of horror. No gimmicks, for, really, isn't scaring you out of your seat a gimmick? But, instead, creating a world that is deplorable and hopeless, the underbelly, that is admirable.

★★★★

Monsieur Verdoux

The days of Chaplin's 'tramp' came officially to an end with MONSIEUR VERDOUX. His last film before VERDOUX however, contained a character unassociated with the tramp on paper, but in actions, was quite similar. With MONSIEUR VERDOUX though, Chaplin's on-screen persona was one clearly, and drastically different from that of the character that had made him a universal sensation. Because of this change, MONSIEUR VERDOUX was received poorly, and was considered a failure. Now, however, in 2011, MONSIEUR VERDOUX is considered one of Chaplin's best films, a cult film, and a great piece of art.
Coming from an idea of Orson Welles's, Chaplin wrote and directed an extension of that original idea. Post-war, Chaplin created a character named Monsieur Verdoux who made his living by marrying rich idiots, and then killing them to collect insurance money. Parading around Paris with matter-of-fact sensibilities and unlucky tendencies, Verdoux becomes older as the film progresses, and his once-booming 'business' of sorts, also deteriorates due to bad luck, and misplaced morality. The idea of a man doing such gross acts in the post-war is Chaplin's left-wing, controversial quasi-art, quasi-political statement. Artfully constructed, controlled, and acted, MONSIEUR VERDOUX seems more than any trite political allegory / importance, but a statement on complacency of morality in the face of greater tragedies, and / or the degeneration of an art form that previously allowed for elevation, to, in the same fashion, demand disintegration.
Monsieur Verdoux: ★★★★

Thrill of a Romance

THRILL OF A ROMANCE is a film that encompasses many crowd-pleasing elements. Made in 1945 and starring Esther Williams and Van Johnson, it was one of those big-budget, "everyman" movies that were churned out with big stars and decent production value. It tells of a newlywed wife, Cynthia (Williams), who is on her honeymoon alone. Her husband is back in Washington, continually postponing his arrival while his wife remains alone and anxious. This anxiety works for a while, and Cynthia parades about the resort to a point where her actions, and thus the film becomes gaudy. Because of who Esther Williams is, its easy for the film to gorgeously attire her surroundings, with her at the center: the polestar of beauty. She swims, which is helpful because of William's real life persona, and they even include that swimming plot point into the story. This is accomplished when, as Cynthia dives impeccably, she spots out a young navy-man named Tom. He's played by Van Johnson, who brings a sweetness to his role. He and Cynthia begin a relationship, but its an awkward one. Cynthia is too conflicted to her title of "newlywed" to completely succumb to the lovestruck Tom, but even the other residents of the resort begin to side with the inevitable result of a Cynthia + Tom relationship. The film beautifully implants a role played by opera singer Lauritz Melchor. He livens up the film quite often, although his frequent singing only adds to how schmaltzy the film is. This is the real conflict of THRILL OF A ROMANCE, for, like the other residents of the resort, we are quite aware of how the film will end, if only because it is that kind of film. Thus, the schmaltz becomes problematic, and the gaudiness of the still-appealing Williams. Melchor is an amiable presence, and so is his subplot, Williams & Johnson are also appealing, but this isn't really much of a film. It's more like an appealing romance, and considering most of the awful romantic-comedies of today, its certainly a better choice in that realm. Despite THRILL OF A ROMANCE's schmaltz, its charm works.
Thrill of a Romance: ★★★

Detour

DETOUR is a very good example of what a film noir is, and yet it is not a very good film. Characteristic of noir films, DETOUR has a down on his luck man (a musician in this case played by Tom Neal) who is chasing after a girl. However, things keep getting in his way, and because the film is told in flashback by the musician, we know at the beginning that this man is doomed. In gritty, striking black and white the musician traverses across the California desert for Hollywood and his girl, spouting sci-fi-esque musings about the nature of the world. These half-assed Chandler-esque sayings are part of DETOUR's slightness, but the troubles that befall the musician are even slight in their executions. The musician makes his way by hitchhiking and comes across, luckily, he presumes, a man named Haskell who's going the whole way. This turn of luck is not the good king, he finds out, as Haskell mysteriously dies on the way. The musician figures he'll be fingered for the crime, as he isn't the most credible source as a hitchhiker, so he throws the body in the bushes with his own ID, and assumes the identity of Haskell. However, in this brisk transformation, the musician comes across more bad luck in the form of Ann Savage, who takes advantage of the hold she has over the man pretending to be Haskell, and gets everyone into a whole lot of trouble. DETOUR, as I have mentioned, is slight. But it is nevertheless an entertaining B film. And a lot of its charm comes from its director: Edgar G. Ulmer, who made many low budget films back in the 40's and 50's.
Detour: ★★★

Laura

Laura is a film noir directed by the great Otto Preminger. It's filled with dodgy imagery, impending doom, and illusions. We open, and a tragedy has already occurred. Laura Hunt (Gene Tierney) is dead. A detective (one of those fast talking and blunt kind of detective replete in film noir and played by Dana Andrews) is on the case. He interviews Waldo Lydecker (Clifton Webb), a popular mogul who is infatuated with Laura. He interviews her fiancé (Vincent Price) who was also deeply attracted to her. As the case moves on and new things come to light, the detective himself becomes entranced by a painting of Laura. We get a lot of backstory then, about the relationships the fiancé and Lydecker had with Laura. The suspense here is pretty great, Laura is dead, but who the murderer is, is executed better than most films. It's elevated by the good acting and the clever direction as well. Tricks with shadows and characters who seem so constantly frightened makes it great.

Notorious

A while back I gave Hitchcock a bad review for Rope. It sucked, but the point is that I tried to redeem myself by reviewing The Lady Vanishes. That's a great film, but I still felt as if I was selling Hitchcock short. Thus, I present one of the top ten greatest films ever made: Notorious. This film seeps with life, it's sexy, it's thrilling, it's moving, it's funny, it's sad, it's gorgeous. Roger Ebert calls it "the best expression of the master's visual style". Well, it is. There's no more beautiful a Hitchcock film than this (although North by Northwest comes awful close). But in Notorious we get close up's of a finger that is the only part of the body not in character, we get keys hidden in hands that have no business being there as we go from a shot of an entire body to that scintillating key. And then the story, as good as any Hitchcock ever concocted: Alice Huberman (Ingrid Bergman) is the daughter of a well renowned Nazi. She herself is loyal to the Allies. The government seeks her out after the death of her father, and a man named Devlin (Cary Grant) drives the drunken girl home after a party. He convinces her to help the Allies, and she is sent off to Rio de Janeiro to infiltrate a group of Nazi's headed by the evil man who used to be in love with her: Alex Sebastian (Claude Raines). But Devlin and Huberman fall in love, Devlin is furious in his shell of a body as he must give her up for the sake of the Allies to a Nazi. This pain is so apparent and gorgeously done it's inexplicable. More so, the pain and dirt Huberman is dragged through is more affecting. She must, at one point, deliver Sebastian to hell. He will either be killed by his Nazi friends, or she will fail at her task and be killed herself. Notorious is so well-done a film that it will stand as one of the best of all time. It was made in 1946. It features a stellar cast, and it is directed with a masterful hand. It's probably the best film Hitchcock ever made.

Rope

Rope was directed by Alfred Hitchcock. That should be all that I have to say about it's worth and it's background, but Rope is a sort of exception to the: Hitchcock is infallible rule. For, Rope ultimately is a lesser work, and not really very good. It's based on a true story pretty loosely. Two men have decided that they are superior beings, and that everyone else in inferior and that they have the right to murder them. This idea was put into them by an old teacher at their old school played by the inexplicably appealing James Stewart. They have killed an old friend David, and have put him into a chest in their apartment. They arrange a dinner party and have all of David's friends and family show up. They even eat dinner on the chest and have their old teacher (Stewart) come to the party as well. Now, one would think that because the body is in the chest every bit of action should be centered around it. But Hitchcock was experimenting here (he didn't think it worked himself) and used a seemingly continuous single shot to tell the story. Because of this, Hitchcock foolishly limits his own powers and his need to black out the screen by use of the back of a party guests head or a chair every ten minutes seriously limits him. Finally, the film is unconvincing. For Stewart, who is supposed to believe that a superior being can murder and inferior one seriously, suddenly has a change of heart and mood when he becomes suspicious that the two party arrangers have taken his words to heart and killed David. The end of the film is sanctimonious and pretty silly. Admittedly, Hitchcock is a master, and some scenes are undeniably entertaining and suspenseful. Perhaps it's because it's not at the usual level of awesomeness that Rope feels unsatisfactory.
Rope: ★★

The Big Sleep

There is a myth about old movies. That they are corny and have no glimpse of real life. There is no more devious a movie (or books) than the Big Sleep. This movie immediately has four great things going for it. Humphrey Bogart, the best (considering who you are) actor to have ever lived is the star. The director is one of the old masters: Howard Hawks. The writers: Raymond Chandler and William Faulkner, two of the best writers of the 20th century. The Big Sleep is a classically appealing story, a private detective is given the run around, encountering dangerous dames and tough guys. The plot is much to complicated to go over here, and it would be far less eloquent than the way it is played out in the film. There is a languor to it, a certain lethargy that is broken apart by the evil of the world. By murder, my flirtatious girls, and cigarette smoke puffing into someone else's face. The Big Sleep is also a great film in the way it indirectly considers insanity. This is expressed in two of the Sternwood girls (who are the clients of Bogart). The Big Sleep looks beautiful, sounds tough and real, and has bits of direction so well done, you are left in shock at it's absolute brilliance.
The Big Sleep: ★★★★