I have been taught by masters: "The Heiress" and the Art of Cruelty

Spoilers Below

Hamlet once said  he had to be cruel only to be kind. I couldn't help but think of this while watching William's Wyler excellent The Heiress (1949), one of the best examples of classic Hollywood elegance and emotional intensity. "Hollywood" can often be a negative descriptor for movies but classic Hollywood gave us plenty of stellar films that are amongst the best films ever made in America. But back to what I was saying about Hamlet. I couldn't help but think of what Hamlet said because it matches the mentality of Dr. Austin Sloper, a wealthy doctor who believes the penniless suitor (Montgomery Clift) courting his wallflower daughter Catherine (Olivia de Havilland) is a a fortune hunter, only after her inheritance, believing she doesn't possess any qualities a man would be interested in. He wants to protect his fortune but in his own way he's also protecting his daughter from what the believes is inevitable heartbreak. He tells her many girls are prettier and cleverer, that her money is her only virtue. And perhaps he's right (ignoring the fact de Havilland was a beautiful and glamorous movie star in real life), but we also sympathize with Catherine, wanting to earn her father's respect and admiration, and grow beyond what she is. The Heiress is largely her journey, one that ends in what the audience can decide is either triumph or tragedy. 

The film's screenplay, by Ruth and Augustus Goetz, is adapted from their play based on Henry James' novel Washington Square. The script is a masterclass of emotional suspense, knowing that Catherine will reach her limits and finally push back against the men in her life. We feel deeply for Catherine because De Havilland shows us a woman so willing to be loved and swept off her feet. She's naïve but Clift's sensitivity and sincerity as Morris Townsend presents us with the possibility of genuine love for her. We want to believe he's of noble heart, that there could be a happily ever after for Catherine. 

Catherine wants to prove her father wrong an plans to elope with Morris. She tells tells Morris she will be disinherited and when he supposed to pick her up to get married, he doesn't show. This is the turning point of the film where Catherine becomes hardened. But here's the interesting part- she blames Sloper. She tells him that even if Morris was only interested in her money she still could've bought a husband that pretended to love her, something Sloper couldn't do. Sloper could never pretend but only criticize Catherine for her failings. When he learns she's not going to marry Morris he says he's proud of her. And we're happy that Sloper has finally shown admiration for his daughter and it's cathartic that she finally stands up to him. But it's also awful that her relationship with her father is never reconciled, that she breaks his heart. 

It'd easy for Sloper to come across as a completely heartless man but the film provides him, like Morris, with genuine nuance. We learn that Sloper can't help but compare his daughter to his deceased wife, who was glamorous and witty, and all those things. The implication is the mother dies in child-birth, with Catherine bearing the unfair bitterness Sloper has towards her for not being exactly like her mother. But this plot point does humanize him, gives him a past and sense that he once had human warmth, a warmth that became a veneer of iciness after his wife died. Richardson was nominated for Best Supporting Actor for his performance and I think he should've won over Dean Jagger for Twelve O'Clock  High. 

Years after Sloper dies Morris returns, telling Catherine he only left so she wouldn't lose her inheritance. She agrees to marry Morris. He goes off to make arrangements. But she leaves him outside, banging on the door when he comes back. It'd be easy to cast a slicker more polished kind of actor, to get across that Morris is an opportunist but with Clift the answer isn't easy. The truth may be that he did love Catherine even if he was also interested in her money. I wrote about this before but Clift deserves just as much credit as Marlon Brando for bringing a new kind of raw naturalism to the screen. "Method Acting" gets a bad rap but I think early on it was valid and valuable way to find a more emotionally realistic way of acting. You always hear about actors being able to act with their eyes. Clift's eyes are deep reservoirs of emotion, and he feels he's going to break at certain instances when you watch him in a given film. His voice also often seems to shake slightly. There's so tenderness to Clift as an actor that the ending isn't a easy triumph. But maybe that's the point, there's no easy triumph in life.'

I avoided talking about De Havilland's performance because I wanted to save it for last. De Havilland ended up winning her second Best Actress Oscar for The Heiress (1946's To Each His Own was her first win). She's miraculous here, simultaneously effortlessly and painfully showing us Catherine hardening from naïve girl to more cunning ruthless older woman. Her final walk up the stairs is one of Hollywood's great endings, in a history of great endings. 

The Essential Films: "Sunset Boulevard" (1950)

A series of writings on films that I feel are essential for film lovers, coupled with films that are personal to me. Spoilers for those who haven't seen the film.

What happens to those whom Hollywood leaves behind? What happens when their star has faded and, for women, when they get older? Director Billy Wilder, who was born in Austria in 1906 but came to L.A. in 1933, always wondered what happened to the silent film stars who still lived in the mansions from the 1920s. This gave birth to the idea which became Sunset Boulevard, one of his greatest films, which delves in to the life of a silent movie star who still desires to be famous  

Wilder always railed against easy genre categorization in his films. The Apartment (1960) is a romantic comedy that's also a drama about adultery and selling your soul for a promotion. Double Indemnity (1944) is a film-noir about helping a woman murder her husband that's also an incredibly funny and occasionally warm story about male friendship; and Some Like It Hot (1959) is a 1920s set comedy about two men in drag being pursued by gangsters because they witnessed the St. Valentine's Day Massacre. Sunset Boulevard is his most daring tightrope act when it comes to genre and tone. It's a film noir, a dark comedy, a Hollywood satire, a gothic melodrama, and a tragedy. Film critic Richard Corliss called it "the definitive Hollywood horror film" and director John Landis also called it a murder mystery. .

Sunset Boulevard was Wilder's and writing partner Charles Brackett's 17th and final collaboration. Wilder ended the partnership due to a fight over a montage in the film though they ended up winning writing Oscars for the film. Wilder and Brackett began writing a script in 1948 but it didn't please either of them. To help with the script they hired D.M Marshman, Jr., a film critic for Life Magazine whose review for Wilder's The Emperor Waltz- co-written with Brackett- impressed them. Marshman came up with the idea of the main character being a gigolo to a silent film star. Wilder was afraid of the censors because it was an expose on Hollywood and dealt with the subject matter of an relationship between an younger man and an older woman. The script was actually submitted a few pages at the time. When they began shooting only one third of the script was completed.

The film aptly starts with a screenwriter having his own writing problems. Joe Gillis (William Holden) needs work and money. He's also got repo men on his tail for his car. While on the run from these men he hides his car in the garage of a mansion belonging to aging silent movie star Norma Desmond (Gloria Swanson). Joe goes in to the house and is mistaken for an undertaker (her monkey has died). When she discovers he's a screenwriter she asks his opinion on her script which will serve as her comeback vehicle (though she prefers to call it a return). While Joe's voice-over narration (more on that later) tells us the script isn't very good he needs the money so he gets Norma to hire him to work on the script. Norma also insists he lives in the mansion with her. Later Joe realizes she had romantic feelings for him. Out of disgust he leaves but comes back when he learns she's attempted suicide. He also eventually becomes Norma's gigolo.

Sunset Boulevard is  about desperation. Joe needs money and Norma is desperate to hold on to the fantasy she can stage a comeback and be relevant again. And you know what? I understand Norma's desperation to be famous and to be loved. It can be a poison that rots you inside and makes you bitter at what you can't have. You are so desperate for it you feel you are going insane. In Norma's case, she has. And that poison has not only rotted her inside but outside as well. Despite only being 50 she appears 20 years older. While Norma can appear as a grotesque and sexist caricature of an aging actress- and in some ways she is since she was written by two men in the 40s- she's also a deeply tragic as well as funny character. That's largely due to Swanson's performance, who gives a hellish and hilarious performance, one of the seminal screen performances of all time. 

Before Swanson was considered Wilder reached out to several other silent film actresses, including Mary Pickford, who didn't like the theme of a older woman in a relationship with a younger man. And Clara Bow declined because she wanted to stay retired. It was director George Cukor who suggested Swanson. This was a comeback role for Swanson who had, after her career waned in the 40s, quit movies and worked on stage, TV, and radio. Swanson was intrigued when she was offered the part but didn't want to do a screentest for Sunset Boulevard  since she had been such a big star. Cukor joked that he would shoot her if she didn't. 

Montgomery Clift was cast as Joe but dropped out supposedly because the role reminded him of his part in The Heiress (1949), where he played a man having a relationship with an older woman. But the the suspected real reason was him actually being in a relationship with an older women, singer Libby Holman. Clift didn't want people thinking Holman was like Norma so he gave up the role. It worked out pretty well for Holden, who became an A-List star after this performance, which also earned him an Oscar nomination. He lost to Jose Ferrer for Cyrano de Bergeac (1950) but would win several years later for another Wilder film, Stalag 17 (1953). I'm glad Holden got the part. Clift was a strong actor but I think  he was a little too serious for the wise-cracking Joe. Holden's much better with sarcasm and playing a likable jerk.

Coming back to Swanson, what's integral to her performance, beyond being grotesque, funny and tragic all at once, is how she contrasts with Holden. Holden  is giving a mostly naturalistic performance but Swanson is more theatrical in her gestures and facial expressions. This creates plenty of humour- Joe's sarcasm against Norma's non-ironic claim of "I am big. It's the pictures that got small." It also creates the feeling that Norma is always giving a performance never being completely in reality, and this just solidifying how's she losing her mind. I'm reminded of Vivien Leigh's performance in A Streetcar Named Desire (1951), where her theatrical style of acting juxtaposes with Marlon Brando's method acting. Blanche, like Norma, is mentally unbalanced and this style of acting, pitted against naturalistic acting, makes that clearer to the audience. 

There's a clear separation between Norma's world and the "real" world, which is how the film manages its different tones. The gothic horror and film-noir elements don't intrude when Joe's outside the mansion. Things always feel normal. Film historian Tom Stempel wrote about how the lighting (courtesy of cinematographer John F. Seitz) blends the two worlds of the film together.

"In both Double Indemnity and Sunset Boulevard, Seitz does something that has always impressed me. Both are films noir, and he finesses the fact that both are set in the sunniest of locales, Los Angeles... he brings together the light and the dark in the same film without any seams showing... he brings together the realistic lighting of Joe Gillis out in the real world with the gothic look of Norma Desmond's mansion. Again with no seams showing."

The contrast between the darkness of Norma's world and the brightness of L.A is important. Her world is the dark underbelly of Hollywood. I'd argue Joe is the bridge between the two worlds. If he's not completely destroyed by Hollywood he's at least on his way. He could become like Max Von Mayerling (Erich von Sroheim, playing a version of himself), a former silent film director and Norma's former first husband, now butler. He couldn't bare it when Norma left him so he turned his back on directing and became her servant. He even writes fake fan letters to her, feeding her delusions. Stroheim gives a drolly comic performance as Max but there's something haunted in his eyes. This is a man who has fallen very far and has had to watch his ex-wife descend in to madness. Through him we see that Norma wasn't always like this and he acts as a reminder of what Joe could become if he doesn't cut Norma out of his life completely.

Norma's opposite is Betty Schaefer (Nancy Olson), a script reader who once wished to be an actress. It didn't work out but unlike Norma she isn't bitter about not being famous. She sees the merit of working behind the scenes and wishes to be a screenwriter. She's also the counterpoint to Joe due to her belief that a story should have a message. She also isn't as cynical-minded as Joe. She criticized one of his stories early in the film as trite and formulaic, believing he's too good of a writer to waste his talents on overdone stories. However, she sees potential in another of Joe's story and wants to work on it together.  

Joe and Betty fall in love though she has a fiancee, Artie Green (Jack Webb). When Joe's leaving Norma he pushes Betty away emotionally so Norma won't hurt her and because Joe knows she deserves better, which is Artie. Joe is then shot by Norma and falls in to her pool. We were shown this corpse at the beginning.  I'm not sure how much of a twist it is that Joe's been narrating this whole time from the dead. but the image of Joe's corpse in the pool is a brilliant and spooky shot, created by having a mirror at the pool's bottom.

The original opening had Joe in a morgue recounting his death to other corpses. The preview audience laughed at it and it was removed for the finished film, which I think was a good choice. I think the narration from a dead man is morbid enough without going too far. I think it's a great bit of sardonic humour, though film critic Thomas M. Pryor of the New York Times didn't care for. I think it works as subversion of the bodyless voice narrating, literally making that voice detached from a dead body. The murder mystery bookends and narration are also part of how the film incorporates film-noir tropes

In the film's final and most famous scene Norma is to be arrested but she believes the cameras are there to shoot the film with DeMille. Max returns to the directors' chair as he calls action. She comes down the stairs and thanks the crew, ending with the iconic line, "Alright Mr. DeMille, I'm ready for my close-up," coming towards the camera, and essentially us, with the image blurring and fading to black. Norma gets an oddly happy ending. In an anonymous essay for the film the writer comes to the conclusion that Norma has been completely absorbed by the glory of her past:

 In the final shot of the film as Norma stares directly into the camera, we see the soft-focus glow that was a trademark of the silent film era increase in intensity before enveloping her completely as the film fades to black. Norma’s mind has finally been wholly consumed by the past that she’s long yearned for, but her hollow, wide-eyed gaze lives on in the minds of all who beheld it, pleading with us to consider our own role in her descent

Norma said earlier that she abandoned her audience but it was the audience who left her behind. Sunset Boulevard is about the ones who Hollywood and we leave behind and how fame fading away is often worse than never being famous. To know glory and then to lose it becomes a living death for Norma. Wilder was cynical but not uncompassionate. The film is a damnation of the system that created Norma Desmond and then threw her away because audiences got bored. Hollywood and audiences could never see the real person behind the star and what may happen when they were abandoned. Without stardom, some of these people feel they have nothing. What do audiences owe these stars? Maybe nothing. Maybe just some compassion. I think I relate to Norma too much. She may not be easy to love but it's easy to part of ourselves in her, the desire to be loved and comfort that hope brings us, even if's a delusional hope that'll eventually swallow us up.   

The Essential Films: "Rebecca" (1940)

A Series of Writings on Films that I feel are essential for film lovers, coupled with films that are personal to me. Spoilers for those you haven't seen the film- as well as spoilers for the novel.

Rebecca marked a turning point in Alfred Hitchcock's career. It was his first film made in America and was the beginning of his working relationship with David O. Selznick. Selznick was a notoriously hands on producer and wanted a very faithful adaptation of Daphne Du Maurier's 1938 novel. Hitchcock had fashioned a strong visual identity as a director. This resulted in tension between the two, which could have led to a fractured and uneven film. However, the resulting film is an elegant meshing of  the two men's styles. It is at once a handsomely mounted old-school Hollywood film as well containing some genuine Hitchcockian flourishes. Its success, both critically and commercially, would allow Hitchcock to continue working in Hollywood, where he would direct several of his most revered films. 

Hitchcock had wished to buy the rights to Du Maurier's novel but deemed the price too high. He would end up directing another adaptation of a Du Maurier novel, Jamaica Inn (1939),  with which Du Maurier was displeased. Selznick would later buy the rights himself. When Hitchcock signed a contract with Selznick he was first slated to direct a film called The Titanic. When that project fell through he was assigned to direct Rebecca. The initial screenplay was written under Hitchcock's supervision by his assistant and screenwriter Joan Harrison, along with author Philip MacDonald. Selznick hated it, due to it veering too far from the novel. In a letter to Hitchcock Selznick said, "We bought Rebecca and we intend to make Rebecca." The final screenplay by Harrison and playwright Robert E. Sherwood was a much more faithful adaptation of the novel.

While on vacation in Monte Carlo the unnamed narrator (Joan Fontaine)- the paid companion of Mrs. Edythe Van Hopper (Florence Bates)- meets the wealthy widower Maxim de Winter (Laurence Olivier). As the  narrator and Maxim spend more time together they fall in love. When she and Van Hopper are to leave he surprises her with a marriage proposal. He brings her to his home estate of  Manderley, a world of wealth and privilege in which the narrator feels uncomfortable, largely due to the feeling of being compared to Maxim's beautiful and elegant first wife Rebecca, who died in a boating accident the year prior. The housekeeper Mrs. Danvers (Judith Anderson) takes a special disliking to the narrator, due to her close relationship with Rebecca.

Mrs. Danvers' introduction is one of the most Hitchcockian moments in the film. She glides in to the frame as the other servants are happily gathered to greet the new Mrs. de Winter. Her entrance in to the shot tells the audience she is the barrier between the narrator and true acceptance in to Manderley. Lyle R. Wheeler's production design for the film makes Manderley one of the great gothic locations in all of cinema. Hitchcock and cinematographer George Barnes (who won an Oscar for his work here) convey through the framing how the narrator is being overwhelmed by the mansion, both physically and emotionally.

Rebecca is a metaphorical ghost story. Rebecca's ghost never appears but her memory haunts the narrator and Maxim. Mrs. Danvers even wonders whether Rebecca's ghost comes back to Manderley and watches them. What makes the memory of Rebecca even more oppressive for both Maxim and the narrator is when her body is discovered after her boat is recovered. The body identified by Maxim was an unknown woman. Maxim knew this because he placed Rebecca's body in the cabin. Maxim never loved Rebecca and their happy marriage was just an act. As Maxim tells it, she was manipulative and cruel. After a confrontation between Rebecca and Maxim regarding her having a child with another lover, her cousin Jack Favell (George Sanders), she fell and struck her head. Maxim then sunk the boat by opening the seacocks. 

In the novel Maxim intentionally kills Rebecca by shooting her. It's ultimately discovered she had cancer, which gives her a motivation for suicide. Due to the Hays Code Maxim couldn't kill Rebecca and not be punished for his crime. I think if the had been able to retain this plot point it would've made the film's story even more powerful. But the message remains the same, which is Maxim cannot escape Rebecca even after she's dead. 

Fontaine and Olivier beautifully embody Du Maurier's lovers. While Maxim is older in the novel than Olivier was at the time of the film's production he expertly conveys Maxim's enchantment with the narrator as well as his bitterness towards Rebecca. Maxim is a man of contradictions, capable of warmth and coldness, condescension and respect towards his new bride.

And who wouldn't fall in love with Joan Fontaine? Fontaine effortlessly captures the narrator's purity as a person, as well as her awkwardness and lack of confidence. It's these qualities that attracts Maxim to her. She's not part of his world, not phony or privileged. She's real, which to Maxim Rebecca never was. When Maxim tells the narrator he never loved Rebecca, this finally breaks down the barrier between them. The narrator no longer has to feel inferior to Rebecca. 

My favourite moment from Fontaine is when she answers the phone on Rebecca's desk, telling the caller Mrs.de Winter has been dead for over a year. When she puts the phone down she realizes her mistake, cries "Oh, I mean...:" as she reaches for the phone with both hands. It's a very charming moment, while also accentuating the narrator's awkwardness, especially when Mrs. Danvers walks in. 

Anderson gives a positively spectral performance as Mrs. Danvers. Others have noted that she appears to glide rather than walk. This is because Hitchcock wanted the audience to see Mrs. Danvers from the narrator's perspective, feeling afraid she could appear at any moment. In one of the novel's and film's most famous scenes Mrs. Danvers finds the narrator in Rebecca's room and shows her around. Mrs. Danvers appears a woman possessed. She, more than anyone else, still has a passionate connection with Rebecca.  I'd argue Mrs. Danvers is more of an antagonist than an villain. Her story is actually quite sympathetic. She loved Rebecca, possibly romantically, and her death no doubt affected her deeply. Now Maxim is replacing her with a woman Mrs. Danvers views as inferior to Rebecca. Obviously she'd be upset. Her burning down of Manderley of the story represents her inability to live with the narrator taking Rebecca's place. But the narrator is not a replacement for Rebecca, rather she's her own person. She is able to stop comparing herself but Mrs. Danvers can't. 

Another tragedy of the story is Rebecca never gets a voice. The film is wise to now show flashbacks of Rebecca, keeping us in the perspective of the narrator, who's never seen Rebecca, can only imagine her. We only know Rebecca from what we're told; we're given two contrasting views of her. One is the beautiful, adored wife who everyone loved and whose death tormented Maxim. The other view, the one Maxim communicates to the narrator, is certainly not flattering: "She was incapable of love or tenderness or decency." But who really was Rebecca? Is it fair to assume she was some kind of monster as Maxim tells it? I don't believe so. Rebecca is a story about perception and the limits of one's knowledge of a human being. The narrator had one view of Maxim when marrying him, which turned out to be wrong. There is something quietly tragic about learning she had cancer and not wishing anyone else to know. In the book Du Maurier makes it clear Rebecca wanted Maxim to kill her so she wouldn't have to suffer from the cancer. 

Rebecca won the Best Picture Oscar- along with the aforementioned win for cinematographer Barnes- though Hitchcock lost Best Director to John Ford for The Grapes of Wrath. This may have solidified in Hitchcock's mind that Rebecca more of a Selznick film than a Hitchcock film. But there's still plenty of Hitchcock in this film, with its themes of romantic obsession, the limits of subjectivity, and fear of police/authority. And as I mentioned earlier the film allowed Hitchcock to continue working in Hollywood, where he grew as a artist, crafting sophisticated thrillers with provocative subtext. And  Rebecca is ultimately, for me, a story about a woman isn't alive to tell her story and another who is able to finally become the heroine of her own. 

Performances I Love: Barbara Stanwyck and Henry Fonda in "The Lady Eve" (1941)

Spoilers for the film  below

Acting is often about having the right balance. Go too far one way, you can become too campy, too far the other way, too serious. And when actors play off each other they have to be in perfect sync with one another- like a duet. Barbara Stanwyck and Henry Fonda perform one of the great romantic comedy duets in Preston Sturges' The Lady Eve, his third film and my favourite of his. In their second pairing- after 1938's The Mad Miss Manton- Stanwyck and Fonda's combination of con-woman and klutz make for an endearing and quite sexy pair.

Stanwyck plays a con artist named Jean Harrignton, partners with her father (Charles Coburn). whose latest target is Charles Pike (Fonda), the heir to a brewery fortune. Jean and Charles ends up falling in love and plan to get married, which complicates the scheme, to say the least. Charles discovers Jean's true identity, calling off their engagement. Jean wants to get back at Charles so she pretends to be the British Lady Eve Sadwich. Charles believes Eve looks too much like Jean to be her, though his valet Muggsy (William Demarest) isn't fooled.

About 10 minutes in to the film, in an unbroken shot, Stanwyck caresses Fonda's face and plays with his hair for several minutes in what I think is one of the sexiest scenes ever put to screen. Fonda never looks at Stanwyck during this. He stares straight ahead, almost lost in another world. He's intoxicated by her/  Before movies could really show sex, the implication of sex was a very powerful thing. The scene exemplifies the film's perfect combination of comedy and sensuality. 

And speaking of comedy, Fonda has to be both the straight man while also performing most of the film's physical comedy. This could result in an inconsistent performance but Fonda deftly never plays Charles' pratfalls too broadly, allowing him still to be the straight man in the centre of this farce. Moreover, Charles is gullible but his reasoning for believing Eve isn't Jean- why wouldn't she disguise herself?- makes sense in the context of this movie's universe.   

Stanwyck plays Jean as mischievous rather than outright cruel. She pretends at wanting vengeance for being scorned by Charles but she really wants him back. In the scene when Charles breaks off the engagement Stanwyck reveals Jean's vulnerability as well as her bitterness at being caught. She jokes about the "rotten likeness" of her picture. Jean then attempts to convince Charles she was going to tell him the truth before they were married. Charles lies and says he knew from the start who she was,  which reveals how bitter he is. Stanwyck and Fonda play this scene beautifully. They know this is the centre of the film, and has to give weight to Jean and Charles' relationship. Without the necessary poignancy, the audience won't desire them getting back together.  

Stanwyck and Fonda didn't receive Oscar nominations for their performances and I'd argue those are two of the biggest acting omissions in the Oscars' history. They would team one more time-the same year- in You Belong To Me but The Lady Eve is their most remembered work together. It's a wonderful duet.

Favourite Films of the 1950s

Warning: Spoilers for many of the films listed below

I consider the 1950s the greatest decade in film history. It was the decade in which Hitchcock made several of this greatest films- including the film many regard as his masterpiece, Vertigo. Akira Kurosawa made Rashomon, Seven Samurai, Throne of Blood. Ingmar Bergman would have Smiles of a Summer's Night and The Seventh Seal. Marlon Brando would come on the scene deliver one of the greatest screen performances of all time- as Terry Malloy in On the Waterfront. Fellini would give us Nights of Cabiria and La Strada. James Dean became of the great screen icons with all only three films. Billy Wilder made what is considered the funniest film of all time with Some Like It Hot, as well maybe the best film about Hollywood, Sunset Boulevard.

I wanted to discuss my favourite films of the decade. They include multiple appearances by a few directors, especially Mr. Hitchcock. So, here they are, my favourite films of this wonderful decade of cinema. Again, there will be spoilers. 

Rear Window (1954) 

Alfred Hitchcock's Rear Window is one of the rare films that I would argue is perfect.  L.B. "Jeff" Jeffries (Jimmy Stewart) is a photographer who- after breaking his leg photographing a racetrack accident- is confined to a wheelchair and passes the time spying on his neighbours in the courtyard where he lives. He soon starts to suspect that Lars Thorwold (Raymond Burr)  has murdered his invalid wife.

Hitchcock takes what sounds like an uncinematic concept and crafts it in to a commentary on cinema, voyeurism and the how the two are intrinsically connected. Hitchcock always believed in what he called "pure cinema," meaning the story should should be told using the specific tools of cinema. We see most everything from Jeff's perspective as he's looking in to the other apartments. We as the audience are also voyeurs and accomplices in Jeff's preoccupation. Even when there's dialogue- Jeff interacts with and involves in his investigation his girlfriend Lisa Fremont (Grace Kelly), nurse Stella (Thelma Ritter) and police friend Tom Doyle (Wendell Corey). But even in dialogue scenes Hitchcock still tells the story visually: who can forget Lisa's introduction- seen through Jeff's blurred vision as she comes in to kiss him.

Rear Window is also a commentary on our relationship to our neighbours and how we perceive people and their actions. And overall it's just an incredibly entertaining film. More than 60 years on, it's still an exemplary example of its genre and Hitchcock's filmography.

 12 Angry Men (1957)

Sidney Lumet's debut film only has one scene set in a courtroom but it ranks amongst the greatest films about the justice system. It also remains an relevant examination about racial prejudice in America.

On a hot summer day 12 jurors must decide the fate of a 18 year old Hispanic boy charged with murdering his father. For most of the jurors it's an open-and-shut case that the boy guilty. Juror 8 (Henry Fonda) wants to discuss the details of the case to make certain they're not sending an innocent person to their death. Throughout the afternoon the other jurors will confront their own biases and preconceptions. Juror 3 (Lee J. Cobb, one of the great character actors) has the most powerful and significant transformation. His decision is the culmination of the whole drama.

Fonda is perfectly cast as Juror 8. Fonda almost always portrayed noble character and here represents what a juror should be: open-minded and desiring a fair verdict. Aside from Fonda and Cobb, the superb ensemble cast also includes a who's who of character actors: Jack Klugman, E.G. Marshall, Martin Balsam, and Jack Warden.

As I've gotten older the film has become more ambiguous and complex. When I was younger I thought it was clear the boy was innocent. I now think there's a possibility the boy could be guilty. The larger point is he got a second chance at life and the possibility of redemption.  

 Singin' in the Rain (1952)

The late Debbie Reynolds made her screen debut in Singin' in the Rain, which is my absolute favourite movie musical. Energetic, sweet, and with a humourous commentary on how Hollywood switched from silent films to "talkies," this may be the happiest film ever made, or at least among the most happiest. Taking place in the late 1920s, Don Lockwood (Gene Kelly) is a silent film star who's paired in films with Lina Lamont (Jean Hagen).  Don and Lina's latest film The Dueling Cavalier is  to be turned in to talking picture after the success of The Jazz Singer but Lina's shrill voice wasn't made for talkies. Don meets Kathy Selden (Reynolds) and the two fall in love. Kathy is eventually employed to dub Lina's voice when Don, Don's best friend Cosmo Brown (Donald O'Connor) and Kathy get the idea to turn The Dueling Cavalier in to a musical

The film is famous for the scene of Hollywood star Don Lockwood (Gene Kelly) singing the title song but the film is full of other memorable musical set pieces, including "Good Morning, Good Morning," "Moses Supposes" and O'Connor's "Make 'Em Laugh." It's a shame this film was only nominated for two Oscars- Best Scoring of a Musical Film and Best Supporting Actress for Hegan's performance. In a better world, the film, Kelly, Don O'Connor, Director Stanley Donen and Reynolds would all have been nominated.

 Sunset Boulevard (1950)

Sunset Boulevard is one of Billy Wilder's essential masterpieces, a darkly funny, biting and ultimately tragic story about the way Hollywood both gives and takes away- and the obsession with maintaining one's fame and the audience's love. Joe Gillis (William Holden) is a struggling screenwriter who- while escaping from men attempting to repossess his car- finds himself at the mansion of former film star Norma Desmond (Gloria Swanson). When Joe recognizes her and comments she used to be a big star she says "I am big. It's the pictures that got small."  She's written a screenplay for her "return" (she hates the word comeback) and Joe persuades her to let him rewrite it.

Norma Desmond is one of the great film characters- sad, scary, funny, incredibly confident and yet vulnerable to the core. Swanson- who was nominated for the Best Actress Oscar- plays Norma just broadly enough to make her outlandish but not cartoonish. Her tragedy is of someone who had everything and can't live without being a star. She eventually brings Joe down with her, their two fates intertwined.

While Joe can physically leave the mansion, he is still a prisoner of Norma's and his own desires. Casting a handsome movie star like Holden as a down on his luck screenwriter is actually a great joke. And casting actor-director Eric von Stroheim as Norma's former husband and director, now butler Max von Mayerling also functions as meta-joke.  

Wilder and Charles Brackett, whom had co-written several previous films with Wilder, won Oscars for writing Sunset Boulevard but it was to be their final collaboration. Wilder- hailing from Germany- always looked at America from an outsider's perspective. I think he was both cynical of American society was still compassionate, never looking down on his characters- and even finding hope for them in The Apartment and Some Like It Hot. And even Norma finds happiness in her delusions.

 Vertigo

Alfred Hitchcock's Vertigo is a prime example of film that wasn't well liked at the time of its release but was later on re-valuated. Vertigo is now seen as Hitchcock's supreme masterpiece. In 2012 it dethroned Citizen Kane in Sight and Sound's greatest films poll. Whether Hitchcock intended it or not, Vertigo is the revealing of his own psychology, his obsession with a particular kind of woman and manipulation of women.

John "Scottie" Ferguson is a retired police officer who realized he had acrophobia during a rooftop chase of a suspect, which led to the death of another officer. Scottie is hired by an old college friend Gavin Elster (Tom Helmore) to follow his wife Madeline, whom Elster believes has been possessed by the ghost of her great-grandmother Carlotta Valdes. Scottie Madeline and subsequently saves her life after she throws herself in to the bay under the Golden Gate Bridge. He soon becomes romantically involved with Madeline but he is unable to stop her from committing suicide by throwing herself off the top of a bell tower. Scottie is found not responsible for Madeline's suicide and spends some time in a sanitarium. Plagued with guilt, Scottie eventually meets a woman named Judy who looks remarkably like Madeline, whom he then begins to make in to the image of his dead love.

Vertigo is like a maze and Hitchcock is leading you through it. I think when one first sees the film his or her focus will mostly be on the plot.  But on re-watch once you know where the story is going, one is able to focus on the film-making and the psychological complexity of the story. The plot is a red herring. Like Scottie we are led down multiple paths, not realizing the grand design until it's too late.

On re-watch, one is also able focus on character study of Scottie. Even from the beginning of the film Hitchcock establishes Scottie's fragile mental state and how Scottie will eventually blame his vertigo for mot being able to save Madeline. As Scottie begins to trail Madeline, this is where is obsession begins, and he's the one who ultimately becomes possessed- not by a ghost but by romantic obsession.

The casting of Stewart is brilliant due to his relatability and image as the every man. In him audiences saw who they could be at their best. In Vertigo we see ourselves at our worst. If Stewart can be consumed by a twisted obsession, we all can  

A trope of Hitchock's filmography is the "Hitchcock Blonde," cold, cool, mysterious women. Just as Scottie is obsessed with an image that doesn't really exist- the "Madeline" he knows is just Judy, an actress playing a part- Hitchcock was obsessed with a particular image of a woman. Vertigo is largely about the extent someone will hurt another as part of their art. Hitchcock is known for his cruelty towards Tippi Hendren and his obsession with her and several other actresses with whom he worked. Vertigo is Hitchcock as his most self-reflective even while imbuing the film with a hypnotic mystery and elusiveness. 

The Seventh Seal

Endlessly homaged and parodied, The Seventh Seal-  was many North American audiences' introduction to director Ingmar Bergman.  As with Woody Allen- who was heavily inspired by Bergman- and Annie Hall, this was a transitional film for Bergman, forging the way for his later masterpieces. The film chronicles the journey of knight Antonius Block (Max von Sydow, in his first of many films for the director), who has returned from fighting in the crusades, along with his squire Jons (Gunnar Bjornstrand). Sweden has been struck by the Black Plague. Block comes face to face with Death  (Bengt Ekerot), whom has come for Block. Block then challenges Death to a chess match for his very soul.

At the film's core is Block's crisis of faith, his feeling of God's absence. The existential crisis that can plague one's life is universal- regardless of one's faith. I think The Seventh Seal is maybe Bergman's accessible film due to the literalness in which Bergman approaches this subject. But while Bergman arguably made more complex films later on, this doesn't diminish the visual and thematic impact of the film.

The Seventh Seal's personification of Death is definitive He's drily funny-  in one scene he is sawing down a tree, killing an actor. But he's also very ominous and matter of fact. When he reappears at the end of the film it's a harrowing climax.

It's easy to parody Bergman due to his earnestness but its that very earnestness that makes The Seventh Seal such a haunting experience 60 years on.

The Night of the Hunter

Harry Powell ranks as one of the terrifying villains in film history, a boogieman that feels he's been ripped right out of your nightmatre Powell is a "preacher" who is sentenced to prison due to driving a stolen car. Powell shares a cell with Ben Harper (Peter Graves). Harper had robbed a bank and killed two police officers in the process. Powell learns enough from Harper to know infer Harper's children, John and Pearl, know where the money is. Harper is executed and when Powell is released he locates Harper's widow, Willa (Shelly Winters). Powell marries her so he can get closer to the money. He eventually murders Willa and the children have to escape, with Powell coming after them.

Powell is portrayed by Robert Mitchum, whose screen image was defined by a laconic and laid back quality. He didn't seem to care about being a movie star, which made him cool. Powell, in contrast, isn't very cool. Mitchum's other characters didn't care and if they did, they didn't show it. Powell cares too much. He'll terrorize children if it'll help him get rich. Mitchum's characters usually were upfront about who they were but Powell is deceptive and slick. He cons the naive town in to thinking he's a good man. And even when he's showing his true self, it doesn't feel like we're seeing a real person. Rather, Powell is a personification of evil rather than a flesh and blood man. This contrast between Mitchum's typical screen persona and the characterization of Powell is what makes him the character so terrifying. Mitchum is an actor with whom the audience is usually so comfortable. Here he takes the form of a monster. Powell's monstrosity is countered by Lillian Gish's Rachel Cooper, who looks after stray children. Powell is a man who wears the mask of a good Christian man but Rachel is the true light in the darkness.

The Night of the Hunter is the only film directed by actor Charles Laughton. That is was Laughton's sole film is a significant part of this film's mystique and power. In this one film we glimpse Laughton's mastery as a filmmaker. Laughton crafted a film that can't be boiled down to a one genre or description. It's a surreal horror film, a southern noir, a gothic fairytale, and a commentary on organized religion in America. It feels like a nightmare, which eventually turns in to a peaceful dream. The film wasn't a critical or commercial success. This disappointed Laughton greatly, which led him to never direct another film.

Stanley Cortez's cinematography provides the film with much of its unsettling atmosphere. Cortez had previously photographed Orson Welles' The Magnificient Ambersons and Fritz Lang's Beyond the Door. Cortez would later photograph Samuel Fuller's Shock Corridor and The Naked Kiss, as well as Roman Polanski's Chinatown. 

The Night of the Hunter is another film that was not appreciated in its time. In many ways it was ahead of its time. It would inspire future filmmakers such as Martin Scorsese and Spike Lee. But while ahead of its time it also tells a timeless story of good and evil. It ends with the hope that goodness and love can win in the end.

The Quiet Man

The Quiet Man is John Ford's most personal film and one of his warmest as well. Ford would win his fourth and final Best Director Oscar for this film. Frequent Ford collaborator John Wayne plays Sean Thornton, a former boxer and Irish-born American. Sean returns to Ireland to reclaim his family's farm. While there is he falls in love with Mary Kate Danaher (Maureen O'Hara). The two eventually marry and several complications arise including Mary Kate's brother Will (Victor McLaglen), a landowner who has a beef with Sean.

Ford, whose parents were Irish Immigrants, is one of the quintessential American filmmakers. Before making Citizen Kane Orson Welles watched Stagecoach numerous times in preparation. He defined the image of the American Western and made Wayne a movie star. But while was Ford is associated with classic Western, he would never win an Oscar for any of his Westerns. He won for The Informer, The Grapes of Wrath, How Green is My Valley and as mentioned before, this film.

When I was writing for WhatCulture! a few years back, I included The Quiet Man on the list of 10 great "Hang-out movies," a term made popular by Quentin Tarantino. I included the film because of its roster of colorful characters, and it's charming and funny atmosphere. In four years Ford would make one of the darkest westerns with The Searchers but The Quiet Man sees Ford at his most nostalgic and gentle. And Ford's nostalgia for this world is passed on to the audience through this film, whatever one's individual background 

Throne of Blood

Throne of Blood is the first of Akira Kurosawa's Shakespeare adaptations. It would be followed by The Bad Sleep Well (1960, a variation on Hamlet) and his late career masterpiece Ran (1985, a film whose story through the writing process became more like King Lear). Throne of Blood is a re-telling of Macbeth and follows the basic story of the play closely. In this version Macbeth is Taketoti Washizu (Toshiro Mifune) and Banquo is Yoshiyaki Miki. Isuzu Yamada plays Asaji, this film's version of Lady Macbeth. Instead of encountering three witches Washizu and Miki come upon  a spirit in the forest who tells them their future. The scene where they encounter the spirit is one of the spookiest sequences ever captured on film and displays Kurosawa's gift for bizarre yet entrancing imagery.

The ending, where Washizu is swarmed by arrows, is one of Kurosawa's greatest set pieces. And while I'm a huge Shakespeare fan I prefer this film's ending to the play.

While the film doesn't employ any of Shakespeare's language, it's atmosphere and performances invoke the feeling of the play. But the film also works as its own piece of art. Shakespeare took inspiration from other works and actual history to craft his art. Kurosawa does the same with Shakespeare. Kurosawa is one of those directors I would put on a Mount Rushmore of film directors.

North by Northwest

The first Hitchcock film I ever saw is also the proto-James Bond movie. From Russia With Love's (1963) helicopter showdown is known to be inspired by North by Northwest's iconic crop-duster sequence. North by Northwest's star Cary Grant  was also considered for Bond in Dr No. Grant's performance in Notorious is probably the best example of what he could've brought to Bond if he was younger when they made Dr. No. The film's ending even has a naughty visual gag that rivals that of the Bond films.

Hitchcock constantly returned to the theme of the wrong man in his films, inspired by an incident in his childhood when his father sent him to the police station with a note. Young Alfred was put in a jail cell for several minutes and was told this was what happened to bad little boys. 

Roger Thornhill (Grant), is a New York ad executive who is mistaken for a spy named George Kaplan by Philip Vandamm (James Mason). Vandamm's plan to kill Thornhill fails. Vandamm's thugs try again and accidentally kill a U.N. Diplomat. Thornhill is mistaken as the assassin he has to go on the run. On a train he meets Eve Kendall (Eva Marie Saint), who isn't what she seems. 

North by Northwest can best be described as a comic thriller but falls in to camp or becomes too serious. It's light not overly slight and it's still superior entertainment to many modern blockbusters. It's also the one that made me a Hitchcock fan.

 Witness For The Prosecution

Billy Wilder, like his contemporary Howard Hawks, made films in various genres and styles during his career, sometimes within the same film. Sunset Boulevard is both a film noir and a Hollywood satire. The Apartment is a romantic comedy but also a drama about isolation. Some Like It Hot, another romantic comedy, is also a period piece, buddy comedy and gangster film.

Witness For The Prosecution is Wilder's take on the courtroom drama, with a dose of film noir. Charles Laughton plays Sir Wilfrid Robarts, a barrister in ill health who takes on the defence of Leonard Vole (Tyrone Power). Vole is accused of murdering an elderly woman named Emily French. He had met French and she became very infatuated with him. She named him the main beneficiary in her will. Things become complicated when Vole's German wife Christine (Marlene Dietrich) is called as a witness for the prosecution.

The film is based on short story- and later a play- by mystery writer Agatha Christie. It's twisty plot and denouement have the Christie touch. She was always ahead of her time in regards to subverting reader expectations.

Laughton and Elsa Lanchester (Laughton and Lanchester were married in real life) as Robarts' nurse provide much of the film's humour. Power is great casting because his matinee idol image contrasts with the possibility he could be a cold-blooded murderer.

 The Searchers

The Searchers wasn't John Ford's final western but it sfeels like a definitive statement on Ford's part on the genre he both came to define and which defined him. In this film Ford is looking back at the racism inherent to the genre and which was found in his own westerns.

Ethan Edwards (John Wayne) is an civil war veteran who has returned to his brother Aaron's (Walter Coy) homestead after a long absence. Soon after, his nieces Debbie (Lana Wood) and Lucy (Pippa Scott) are kidnapped by Comanches led by a man named Scar (Henry Brandon). The homstead is burned down, with Aaron and his wife Martha (Dorothy Jordan) dead. Ethan, Lucy's finance Brad Jorgensen (Harry Carey Jr.) and Debbie's adopted brother Martin Pawley (Jeffrey Hunter) go after in pursuit. When Lucy is found dead Brad rides in to the Indian camp and is killed.

In Ethan's mind, Debbie has become one of them and needs to be killed. Throughout the film and even at the film's conclusion, Ethan is an unapologetic racist. While he ultimately doesn't kill Debbie (whose is played by Natalie Wood in later scenes), this isn't a complete justification for his attitudes nor does it mean his attitudes have completely changed. The final shot of Ethan framed in the doorway of the Jorgensten homestead as the door closes on him symbolizes how Ethan is a man of the past. He has not place in the changing world.

 Sweet Smell of Success

Alexander Mackendrick's Sweet Smell of Success is a wry blend of cynicism and entertainment. Clifford Odets and Ernest Lehman's brilliant script spares no one in its examination of a New York gossip columnist J.J. Hundsecker (Burt Lancaster) and press agent Sidney Falco (Tony Curtis), whom Hundsecker enlists to help him smear the jazz musician that is romancing his sister. If it was made today Falco would be the hero who becomes bad but then makes the right choice and is redeemed. But here Falco is just as bad- and probably even worst than Hundsecker.

Sweet Smell of Success is a dialogue driven film that also manages to be cinematic. The film is a time capsule of New York in the 1950s James Wong Howe's cinematography makes New York the most noirish is has ever looked in a film. 

 All About Eve

Released the same year as Sunset Boulevard, All About Eve is another film about being woman in an industry that sees 40 as being old. Bette Davis gives one of her greatest performances as Margo Channing, a famous stage actress, Margo meets aspiring actress Eve Harrington (Anne Baxter), whom has followed Margo's play across the country. She tells Margo and her friends a sad story about being poor and losing her husband in the war. Margo takes to the girl and makes Eve her personal assistant. But Eve is a manipulative schemer and she becomes a big star in the theatrical world, upstaging Margo at every turn. 

Writer/director Joseph L. Mankiewicz would win his second consecutive Best Screenplay and Best Director Oscars for All About Eve (He won both the previous year for A Letter to Three Wives) and the film would win Best Picture. It was nominated for 14 Oscars, a record only matched by Titanic. George Sanders would win Best Supporting Actor for his sardonic turn as theatre critic Addison DeWitt. In a case of life imitating art, Davis and Baxter would both be nominated for Best Actress. They would cancel each other out and the Oscar went to Judy Holliday for Born Yesterday.

Mankiewicz's script is one of the best ever written, balancing humour and drama flawlessly. The film would also mark an early appearance of an actress by the name of Marilyn Monroe.

Ace in the Hole

I think this Billy Wilder's most cynical and angry film. Kirk Douglas is brilliant as Chuck Tatum, a disgraced reporter who after his car breaks down in New Mexico, talks his way in to a job at an Albuquerque newspaper. When a man named Leo Minosa (Richard Benedict) becomes stuck in a cave collapse while digging for artifacts Tatum sees an opportunity for a story. He manages to prolong Leo's rescue the story eventually becomes a circus sideshow.

While the film wasn't a commercial or critical success upon release it's stature grew over the years. It has become only more relevant in our age of 24/7 news and the ability of the media to make anyone a celebrity. It's ultimately a tragic film about how the human element can be forgotten amongst media coverage. Tatum is a real bastard but Douglas is magnetic in the role, creating one of the great cinematic anti-heroes.    

 In A Lonely Place

In Nicholas Ray's In a Lonely Place, Humphrey Bogart gives perhaps his greatest performance, a haunted and visceral depiction of rage and heartbreak. Bogart plays screenwriter Dixon "Dix" Steele who is assigned to adapt a novel. At a nightclub the coat check girl Mildred (Martha Stewart) is reading the novel. Dix takes her home so she can explain the book to him. Dix's new neighbour Laurel Gray (Gloria Grahame) sees him and Mildred coming home. Dix gives Mildred cab fare home after she explains the novel. The next morning Mildred is found dead. Dix is taken in to the police station. He gets Laurel to explain that Mildred left Dix's alive. Dix and Laurel- an actress- soon fall in love and Dix begins to write more.

However, Dix has severe anger problems and Laurel begins to suspect that Dix actually did kill Mildred. But at its core the film isn't really a whodunit. It's about a man who can't escape his own violent impulses and how he ultimately pushes away the woman he loves. It remains one of the darkest films about Hollywood ever made. I mentioned Bogart's performance but credit also has to be given to Grahame. She gives Laurel plenty of confidence and allure but then shows her vulnerability as Dix becomes more violent. Grahame and Ray were married at the time of the film's making.

Ray was a filmmaker who blended sensitivity with brutality. Like Elia Kazan, Ray was interested in the realistic psychology of human beings, particularly men. Rebel Without a Cause, Bigger Than Life, On Dangerous Ground and In a Lonely Place are all startling explorations of mentally unbalanced me. For me, In a Lonely Place is Ray's finest achievement as a director in this regard.

 Strangers on a Train

Yes, I'm a really big Hitchcock fan. Strangers on a Train was adapted from Patricia Highsmith's novel of the same name. Highsmith of course was the creator of Tom Ripley, the brilliant psychopath of The Talented Mr. Ripley and subsequent novels. Strangers on a Train another film that explored Hitchcock's favourite theme of the wrong man. Guy Haines is a tennis player who meets a man named Bruno Antony on a train. Bruno recognises Guy and knows about his troubled marriage to Miriam (Laura Elliott). Bruno hates his own father and proposes to Guy the idea of a murder swap. Two people murder someone for each other, thus there's no motive for the crimes. Guy thinks Bruno is joking and plays along but Bruno thinks Guy is agreeing the plan. Bruno kills Miriam, which makes Guy a suspect. Now Bruno wants Guy to murder Bruno's father.

Bruno is one of Hitchcock's great villains, someone that is both to be pitied but who is also frightening. What makes Bruno so sinister how sincere and friendly he seems. Walker never plays Bruno as a villain. Sadly Walker would die shortly after the film was released at the age of 32- this was due to an adverse reaction to prescription drugs.

Granger, whom Hitchcock had previously cast in Rope (1948) brings both sensitivity and darkness to his portrayal of Guy. While Guy is innocent of murder we see he's not too far from being pushed over the edge.

The film is full of vintage Hitchcock visuals. The most famous is the murder of Miriam seen through her glasses on the ground. Then there's the shot of Bruno amongst the audience watching the tennis match. Everyone's heads are going back and forth but Bruno is staring at Guy. Hitchcock made it all look effortless which is why I think he was often unfortunately seen as merely an entertainer but not an artist.

The Wrong Man

Oh my God, I know, another Hitchcock. The 50s was a great period Hitchcock. It makes sense that Hitchcock would eventually make a film entitled The Wrong Man. As I've mentioned before it was a theme he returned to frequently. In the case of this film Hitchcock was inspired by a true story. Christopher "Manny" Balestero (Henry Fonda) is a New York club jazz player. He and his wife Rose (Vera Miles) are having money problems but they are very much in love. When Manny goes in the insurance office to take out a loan he is falsely identified as the man who twice had held up the office. The police have Manny walk in to a deli and liqour store, both which had also robbed. The owners- like the clerks at the insurance office- identify Manny. Manny being falsely accused weighs heavily on Rose. She blames herself for Manny's arrest and suffers a nervous breakdown.

I would argue The Wrong Man is Hitchcock's most serious-minded film, particularly in regards to its exploration of the wrong man theme. While he had used this this conceit as the launching point of twisty thrillers, here Hitchcock treats it with a sober sense of realism. The film- with the exception of Fonda's casting- is very un-hollywood. Hitchcock even filmed on actual locations, including an actual prison for the scene where Manny is locked up.

While Fonda's casting is a case of white-washing, it works because of Fond's noble and upright image. Seeing Fonda treated so ignobly adds to the film's power. Miles is devastating as she shows us Rose's breakdown. Rose eventually recovered and she, Manny and their children moved to Florida. Miles was to play Madeline in Vertigo but she became pregnant. Hitchcock would cast her again as Lila Crane in Psycho, a role she would reprise in the 1983 sequel.

The Wrong Man remains one Hitchcock's most undervalued works in many respects- and one his most mature as well.

Paths of Glory

I don't know if there's a more harrowing anti-war film than Stanley Kubrick's Paths of Glory. One of Kubrick's earlier films, it shows that Kubrick was already a master of camera movement and composition. Kirk Douglas- already a Hollywood heavyweight- put a lot of faith in Kubrick as a director. Douglas gives a sturdy and impassioned performance as Colonel Dax, whom defends three soldiers accused of cowardice during Word War 1 in France. The commanding generals sent the troops to take hold of a German position. It's essentially a suicide mission but they still decide three men must be punished. While Dax pleads for mercy, the three men are executed.

The film is full of righteous anger and Dax's outburst at General Broulard (Adolphe Menjou) is one of the most powerful pieces of acting I've ever seen in a movie. Looking back at Ace in the Hole and Paths of Glory it's a shame Douglas wasn't nominated Oscar nominated for either performance. 

This feels like Kubrick's most cynical film. Kubrick is often seen as a cold, emotionless filmmaker who hated humanity. However, Paths of Glory is a deeply humane film that shows us the goodness along with the cruelty of humankind. I believe Paths of Glory was Kubrick's first masterpiece and his most emotionally affecting film.

Anatomy of a Murder 

Otto Preminger's Anatomy of a Murder is considered to be a very accurate depiction of the justice system. Made two years after 12 Angry Men and Witness For The Prosecution, it may be the best courtroom drama ever made. I don't know if any film in the genre has surpassed it.

The film is based on a novel by John D. Voelker (writing under the pen name Robert Traver) who was a Michigan Supreme Court Judge, and inspired by a trial in which Voelker was the defence attorney. Jimmy Stewart plays small-town lawyer Paul Biegler who lost the re-election bid for District Attorney. Biegler becomes the defence attorney for Lieutenant Frederick "Manny" Manion (Ben Gazzara), who murdered innkeeper Bernard "Barney" Quill, whom Manny says raped his wife Laura (Lee Remick). Biegler plans his defence around Mannie being temporarily insane. 

George C. Scott plays Claude Dancer, who has been brought in to help the prosecution. Scott's performance is perhaps the most vicious and smug depiction of a lawyer on film. Both Scott and Stewart would be Oscar nominated for their performances- Best Supporting Actor and Best Actor respectively- though Hugh Griffith and Charlton Heston would win in those respective categories for their performances in Ben-Hur.

What I admire about Anatomy of a Murder is it has no heroes. Biegler is manipulative and twists the facts to fit his case. In this regard Anatomy of a Murder is the most unsentimental honest depiction of the trial system. For Biegler and Dancer it's all about winning.

Ruthless material like this needs a ruthless director, which is why Preminger, who was known for being notoriously rough on actors, was perfect. Wendell Mayes' screenplay balances the personal scenes with the courtroom scenes, giving enough weight to both arenas. The film was very controversial for its frank discussion of rape and the use of the word "panties." While this dialogue is tame by today's standards, the film was an important taboo breaking landmark.

Some other favourites: The 400 Blows, The Band Wagon, Roman Holiday, Sabrina, Seven Samurai, Smiles of a Summer's Night Some Like It Hot.