Saturday, 14 November 2009

Idealisation and demonization of women in Fritz Lang’s Noir











There are two Fritz Lang films I would like to discuss. One is The Woman in the Window, the other Scarlet Street. These two films are interesting because they both share three essential cast members, have a lot of the same themes and images, and were produced one year apart, The Woman in the Window in 1944 and Scarlet Street the following year, 1945.

Both films idealise the female image through paintings, but also demonizes them. In both films, the protagonist (played by Edward G. Robinson) falls in love with a mysterious and beautiful woman (played by Joan Bennett). Both times, the love interest is portrayed through painting, but in the reality of the film turns out to be the downfall of the protagonist, a lure or lust that sends him towards a downward spiral. In The Woman in the Window, the protagonist is fascinated by a painting of a woman in a window. She appears to him in real life and takes him with her home. There, one of her lovers enters and in jealous rage attacks the protagonist has to kill him to defend himself. The rest of the film concerns itself with detailing the police trying to figure out the murder.

In Scarlet Street, the protagonist who is suffering from loneliness sees a woman being hit on the street. He hits attacker and thinks he saved her. The attacker runs away. It turns out later that the attacker was her boyfriend, and they have a strong love/hate relationship, it becomes apparent that the Joan Bennett character is masochistic. The protagonist grows closer to the woman of his desire, and as a bank clerk starts stealing money to support her, although she and her boyfriend, Johnny, are just using him. Although the painting theme does not become apparent immediately, the protagonist is an amateur painter, and this grows in more significance throughout the film.

Let’s look at these two frames from the beginning of The Woman in the Window. The first one, we see Robinson’s character admiring the painting in the window. In the next, we see Joan Bennett’s character, the person the painting is painted from in the reflection.



















What the second shot does is that it shows us the “idealised” version contra to the “real” version of the woman. Both are fascinating, but the picture is idealised, while the real thing is demonic. The film shows us clearly men’s fascination and attraction to the idealised picture of woman, but throughout the narrative shows that this fascination can lead to dangerous places. This next frame is taken from the woman’s apartment; notice the drawings of women to the left and the sculpture of the female body to the right.










Again, art which idealises the female image, now look at this shot.










The dark figure of Joan Bennett is much more foreboding, and soon after this shot, the former lover bursts in and the protagonist has to commit murder and hide from the police. Literally, because of the female’s aggressive sexuality, he is plunged into despair. However, these ideas are even more apparent and profound in Scarlet Street.

Scarlet Street is very much about double images and deceit. Every major character is lying about his or her character, sometimes on several levels. There’s the protagonist who is a bank clerk, but he is also an amateur painter. He lies, however, to the female character Kitty, and says he is a professional painter. She, on the other hand lies to him about her past and relationship with Johnny. Later, when the amateur paintings made by the protagonist are discovered by an art critic, Kitty pretends that it was she who painted them. Later in the film the protagonist paints her picture, and it is called “Self Portrait”.



















There are more of these painting/real life images. The protagonist lives with his nagging widow, who before marrying him was married to a police officer who died, whom she idealises. His picture hangs proudly on the wall.










However, later it turns out that he never died, but rather faked death to escape his wife, and he is a real charlatan who blackmails people. Compare the painting to the real person.










In both films Joan Bennett’s characters have very aggressive sexuality, enticing and snaring Robinson’s characters. In The Woman in the Window she isn’t really a bad person, she just is a woman, but in noir women tend to be dangerous just because of their sexuality. Films like Gilda (Charles Vidor, 1946), Out of the Past (Jacques Tourneur, 1947) and White Heat (Raoul Walsh, 1949) are good examples of this trend. In Scarlet Street the character is more demonic though, Kitty constantly exploits and uses the protagonist for his money. Look at these two frames, in the first she isn’t really aware of the fact that she can use him, in the second she is very aware. Dangerous sexuality indeed.



















But in essence, both films pose female sexuality as enticing and dangerous to men, and in both films the male protagonist ends tormented. In The Woman in the Window because of the situation she has dragged him into, and in Scarlet Street he is tormented after learning she was trying to con him, and realizes that her liking him was just an illusion, just like his paintings.

Some might claim that these films are womanising or anti-feminism, but I don’t think so. I think it is rather cautionary, the idealised image of females is an illusion, and too strong a fascination with this image could be dangerous. And indeed, the idealisation of the female image had never been stronger than in that of Hollywood cinema, in many ways these films are reflections of this trend in Hollywood, and in the progress denouncing this image as a false illusion. In the final images of Scarlet Street we see the protagonist, now tormented and poor, walk past a painting store. There he sees the picture he painted of the woman he loved sold off, it called a masterpiece by the young lady artist. I think this scene really shows the extent of how the illusion can cause pain and suffering.










Saturday, 24 October 2009

On the advent of 3-D and contemporary animation in general

3-D, revolution or gimick

So, if you’ve been following the recent development in animation lately you will probably have noticed that the titles in the theatres now either 3-D or 2-D, in the case of animation anyway. 3-D is not a new thing, though, with the craze in the 50’s, which eventually failed in any case. Now we’re ready for a new round, but without the old fashioned red and blue tinted glasses, but with some new technological advent which makes the experience much more realistic and immersive.

I don’t really know the technology behind the new glasses, but that’s not really relevant, what matters is how and if they work. I went with some chumps to see Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs, which we will refer to from now on simply as Meatballs. What was clear early, though, is that Meatballs simply was a vehicle for the new technology. Clichéd, predictable and very disgusting in terms of its shallow emotions, the film was terrible, obviously only a person with serious mental problems or children could have enjoyed it. But this wasn’t a surprise; I didn’t go to the cinema to watch a film, but to see the new technology of 3-D. In terms of technology, it was fairly impressive, showing off a multitude of layers and depth. Of course, in the end the film ultimately failed because of its lack in quality in general, nice visuals still doesn’t make a movie good.

On the whole, I was left strangely underwhelmed, the film and its effects soon forgotten.


Up, is Pixar just going through the motions?

Some weeks later, though, I decided to go watch the new Pixar film Up, this time as well in 3-D. As the formula of Pixar films have become painfully predictable, I unsurprisingly enjoyed the film a whole lot. Most interestingly though was the fact that I found the 3-D element much more effective, despite them being much less showy than in Meatballs. And this was the first point in which I actually found myself intrigued by the idea of 3-D. It allows for some interesting cinematography where in deep focus and layered mis-en-scene can have much greater effect and meaning. Imagine Citizen Kane in 3-D. But make no mistake though; 3-D is still very much a gimmick, attempting to regain cinema’s status as a spectacle.

With people being able to create their own cinema’s at home with HD screens and surround sound, the act of actually going to cinema has diminished somewhat in its powers the last couple of years. 3-D, the technology used by recent animation, is very much still only available in the cinema, increasing again its novelty and spectacle. I recently bought Coraline on blu-ray and tested its 3-D feature on my own TV. While retaining much of the depth levels and sense of space, the red and blue tinted glasses distorts the colours and ruin much of the cinematography, meaning that we are still some way away from gaining the full 3-D experience in our own living room.

Of the meagre three films I have seen using 3-D, Coraline was probably the film that utilized the effect the best and in the most significant way, creating a strange and hostile atmosphere with its deep focus and layered backgrounds, really showing how 3-D can be used in a significant way. Up, on the other hand, merely added 3-D in its process, to make it look nicer. Meatballs was just made for 3-D.


Coraline, a great alternative to other animations

Now, pushing away the whole 3-D issue, animation seems to be creating some interesting stuff as of late. Coraline, which I was strangely unaware of for the better parts of five months, was a wonderful surprise, really standing out from the other mainstream animations made lately. Pixar is starting to get boring though. Up was a very good animated film, make no mistake about it, but that seems to be all that Pixar can achieve. With the exception of the odd mistake, Pixar always make strong animated films, but never manage to really reach the top, always falling short in some way. Wall-E was absolutely fantastic for the first 45 minutes, before dwindling away into mediocrity. Still, it was a very positive sign and hopeful.

Sadly, though, Up seems to be a step backwards in terms of ambition regarding Pixar, but of course I hope they continue to develop and hopefully they will one day make a true animated masterpiece. On that note, of course, Toy Story 3 is on its way, in full blown 3-D. I don’t really have much to say on that, other than that I might actually have to watch Toy Story 2 now. 9 Looks interesting, although it might be one of those films that take itself too seriously. I’m more looking forward to Fantastic Mr. Fox, which I might see tomorrow. It is good that we are at least seeing some variety in the style and types of animations we’re getting now, now that the technology has really settled in. I also read somewhere about Disney making a new animated feature which is actually DRAWN. I love the old style, so I will probably see it, although I reserve the right to be very disappointed.

By the way, I read somewhere that some parent had complained that Coraline was too scary for their kids, and I’m wondering what’s gone completely wrong with the consumer-culture surrounding animation. On the info page of 9 in the cinema’s webpage it says: “Consumer Advice: Contains Moderate Sustained Threat.” Are you kidding me, is this a joke? Have kids become this sensitive. Anyway, 9 received a 12a rating, which is also quite surprising. A good example of this kind of mentality is my sister, whose favourite animation is The Little Mermaid. When I was little, she showed it to me, although I never really became a big fan. When some years ago I wanted to show it to her kids, she was concerned about it being too scary for them. Anyway, I’ll get my darling nephews a Coraline DVD for Christmas.

I will stress that I have only focused on western animation, ignoring non-English animation, but I thought it better to concentrate my efforts, maybe some other time I’ll discuss anime or whatever. But I am aware of it.

Friday, 9 October 2009

Weekly Top Ten: Actresses performances



I’m trying now, laboriously, to keep this blog alive, but the heavy workload has made it hard to continue, especially since I agreed recently to help someone out with their own work. I won’t write reviews anymore though, as I have tired of the same formula I’ve been using for too long. Instead, I want to write fewer and more substantial articles. To start off with, though my personal best acting performances by actresses. Male actors to come next. Only rule is that no actress can be mentioned more than once, to make it as varied as possible.


10. Anne Baxter as Eve in All About Eve (Joseph L. Mankiewicz, 1950)


Not maybe the most talked about performance to start off with, but I really like Anne Baxter in All About Eve. She plays the ‘nice girl’ part perfectly, and shifts at command. But there is always something uncanny, ambiguous and uncertain about her ‘niceness’ and this is where I find the value in her performance. She plays very well off the other characters, and even though the film is not from her point of view, and at times she doesn’t really seem like the main character even, she indeed steals the show, and it is just All About Eve.

9. Gena Rowlands as Mabel in A Woman Under the Influence (John Cassavetes, 1974)


Powerful and energetic performance to say the least, Rowlands bring all that we perhaps wouldn’t want in a wife to the screen, but still manages to convey profound humanity in her character. As I have experience with others who watched this film, she is a character who quickly becomes one that the viewer might hate, but she removes these issues with a truly heartbreaking performance.

8. Hideko Takamine as Hisako in Nijushi no hitomi (Keisuke Kinoshita, 1954)


There is a moment in this film, where Hideko Takamine looks towards the screen with a face that so perfectly expresses her sadness that it was almost impossible to look at the screen. It is often very easy to be alienated from Asian performances as their style is so foreign to the west, but Hideko Takamine’s humanistic and honest character brings so much life to this film. Great example of how in some films the actor is essential to how the story works.

7. Ingrid Thulin as Marianne in Smultronstället (Ingmar Bergman, 1957)


An understated performance, Marianne is the perfect companion piece to the main character Isak. She seems to bring a softer side to the film, but ultimately suffers from her own anxieties and personal demons, particularly in her marriage. At times impenetrable and distanced, others the seemingly only glow of humanity in the film. A very mature performance.

6. Gloria Swanson as Norma in Sunset Blvd. (Billy Wilder, 1950)


Gloria Swanson literally brings herself to life as the ageing queen of silent cinema in Billy Wilder’s effectual film on Hollywood. Perhaps overstated, but it works in perfect context with her characters. She gives close attention to every word she speaks; every move she makes, her long slender fingers an all too literal manifestation of the grasping power she uses to ensnare the protagonist.

5. Bibi Andersson as Alma in Persona (Ingmar Bergman, 1966)


Bibi Andersson might have been much more humanitarian, charming and affectionate in her other Bergman films, but it is here that she brings out her most remarkable performance. The power play between her and Liv Ullmann is excellent, cold and calculating. She brings something different to her personality than is usually exhibited in the work she did with Bergman, and ultimately it is her most devastating role.

4. Elizabeth Taylor as Martha in Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (Mike Nichols, 1966)


Devastating performance piece this film and the entire cast is superb. But Elizabeth Taylor’s interplay and explosive dialogue with Richard Burton is where the films real power lies. She walks through almost all emotions a character can show in this fairly short film, and as a character study it is remarkably powerful.

3. Anne Bancroft as Mrs. Robinson in The Graduate (Mike Nichols, 1967)


Well, another film by Nichols, and this time it is Bancroft in her iconic performance as Mrs. Robinson, who seduces a young and naive Dustin Hoffman. Despite somewhat advance age, she is still wonderfully sexy, seductive and alluring, playing off with consummate ease on Ben’s uncertainty of his own manhood and future. The later scenes she is also powerful, but in a much more remarkable way. Easily steals the show.

2. Madhabi Mukherjee as Charulata in Charulata (Satyajit Ray, 1964)


Ray is an excellent director of actors, and in my opinion the best performance he gets is Mukherjee as Charulata in the film of the same name. She did some other exceptional performances for Ray, but here she is at her finest. Subtle and calm, she can express so much with just the look of her face. She does things slowly, but effectively, and her portrayal remains profound and forever infatuating. Filmmaker, film and actress remain criminally underrated.

1. Louise Brooks as Lulu in Die Büsche der Pandora (Georg Wilhelm Pabst, 1929)


Here we are at the nr. 1. This is acting as it’s purest. Louise Brooks was a natural for the screen, who didn’t need dialogue to express her feelings and emotions. The way she uses her whole character; her face, her body, her sexuality and her charisma is wonderfully blended in this film. She finds the simplest ways to portray the most complex of emotions, and in her performance, shows just how simple effective acting can be. An almost ridiculously clear nr. 1 for this list.

Wednesday, 27 May 2009

Weekly Top Ten: Ingmar Bergman


I don’t want to get into the habit of just doing directors top ten lists, but for now let’s just keep it simple. Ingmar Bergman is probably one of the most iconic film directors who appeared during the rise of European art cinema in the 1950s. Although he had been working quite a lot before that, this was truly the period where he emerged as one of the forces of deeply personal and profound films. For me, personally, he was one of the first European filmmakers I started to explore, and therefore has quite a bit of significance on me and my sensibility when watching films.

10. Tystnaden (1963)
Controversial at its release, Tystnaden was the last of Bergman’s informal faith trilogy. Somehow, I always felt that the film lacked some of the crucial elements that are usually part of Bergman’s cinema. Still, the way he builds up the tension and the strict camera discipline is at times harrowing. It doesn’t evoke some of the issues one is used to in Bergman, but it has a quintessential European “feel”, much like L’Avventura and La Dolce Vita.

9. Fanny och Alexander (1982) Well, I had to add the movie that introduced me to Bergman in the first place. While Bergman always has been a deeply personal filmmaker, I feel this is his most personal film. It has a strong nostalgic feel to it, and much of the events are taken right out of his childhood. The cinematography is as beautiful as colour cinematography gets, and some of the sequences are wonderfully hypnotic.

8. Det Syvende Inseglet (1957)
While at the time of making Det Syvende Inseglet Bergman was already quite famous in Sweden and had made some films that were hailed in Europe, this is without doubt the film that threw him into the international scene, and made him one of the most important contemporary filmmakers in Europe. The medieval setting is properly apocalyptic, and with a great group performance from the cast of Bergman regulars, the film stands as one of the greatest classics of European cinema.

7. Nattvardsgästerna (1962)
This is a quiet little film, at least on the outside. But the internal hell and struggle that the protagonist goes through is at times overwhelming. Gunnar Björnstrand is fantastic as the priest who has lost faith in a higher being, and is well supported by the actors around him, as well as a great little part from Max von Sydow. But what makes this film truly great is the focused cinematography which with its minimalistic style manages to create as much emotion as possible, through some very subtle camerawork.

6. Vargtimmen (1968)
Probably Bergman’s most isolated and paranoid film, Vargtimmen is a visual nightmare like few other films can achieve. The claustrophobic setting and cinematography builds up the internal terror that the characters experience. It is both a strange and scary experience to watch. While I feel it lacks some of the usual subtlety and themes that Bergman explores, the film stands high for its extremely effective use of its visual medium as a nightmare.

5. Såsom i en spegel (1961)
The use of barque music in this chamber film is excellent, and adds to the isolation and mental turmoil that the characters go through. The most interesting aspect of the film is the sexual tension between the brother and sister characters, which towards the end of the film increase into unbearable heights.

4. Sommarnattens leende (1953)
A much underrated gem by Bergman, Sommarnattens leende was his first success abroad, although it didn’t bring him into the spotlight like Det Syvende Inseglet did. The film is a subtle comedy piece with some wonderful acting and delightfully witty script. So it is a much more enjoyable film in the classic sense when considering Bergman films, and that is why I love this film, the pure joy of it. The ending is fantastic.

3. Persona (1966)
Perhaps Bergman’s most difficult film, Persona is one of the finest masterpieces within abstract cinema. Calling Persona abstract is perhaps wrong, in a sense, but it is without doubt the film he made with the most radical and innovative narrative form. The intense emotions which so often are the greatest element in Bergman’s films is at times destructive in this film and the play between the two actresses are absolutely fantastic, walking a fine line between fascination and repulsion.

2. Viskningar och Rop (1972)
Destruction in the eye of the beholder. Blood and disturbing sexual desire. Few words can describe the emotional breakdown and writhing pain one has to suffer when watching this film. Brilliant cinematography in every sense of the word and a hypnotic and tense atmosphere. Enough said.


1. Smultronstället (1957)
I love Smutronstället, it is one of my favourite films of all time. Despite its relative short running time, the film contains everything that cinema could encompass. A road trip movie, the film allows itself a lot of time and space to explore different areas of the protagonist’s life and the unfolding of his previous deeds builds up our understanding of the character wonderfully. There are also some great moments with hitchhikers which further allow the film to unfold unto different themes and ideas. The ending is very uplifting, and brings both the character and narrative to a brilliant conclusion. This film enters into the exclusive group of a few films which I have seen three times in a row, without any break.

All I Desire (Douglas Sirk, 1953)


This was a weird one, neat though, but I felt that some of the narrative structure was confused, and the film meandered between the poignant and the weak story-plot. Actually, this film doesn’t have any specific outstanding qualities, but still, it isn’t too bad, it’s just good, but not particularly so. It is actually a bit hard to explain, there are a lot of shifting emotions in this film, but it never really worked, truly.

Usually, I bash colour and praise black and white cinematography. But when it comes to Douglas Sirk, I prefer his colour films, because they usually are aesthetically beautiful and the cinematography has some real depth. This film is in black and white, and while the cinematography looks quite good, I do wish this was in colour rather than in black and white, because I know it would have added some great quality to the film. On the story itself, it has a lot of quality and possible depth, but I felt a lot of it was too unexplored. A middle-aged burlesque dance returns to her home town, a little village in the outskirts of America, where she has left her children and husband. Of course, this brings a lot of emotions and her past back to her, and she has to face up to what she escaped from. I was disappointed, because the message of the film seems to be that the small town life is better than the life of the city, which I am a bit opposed to, although the film has its share of criticism on the hypocrisy of these small towns. Of course, it can be read that the film rather says that the most important thing is unity and family, but then again, it is overshadowed and left somewhat open, which I don’t think is the best thing for this film.

The film escapes complexity, which is quite disappointing, but it does remain poignant and is a good case of an early Sirk melodrama. Within this context there is a lot that works in the film, and Sirk manages to get quite a bit of emotions out of the narrative, particularly towards the end of the movie. What I guess I am missing is a bit of that cutting edge such as in All That Heaven Allows, as well as the awesome use of colour that he now is famous for. In many ways, Sirk is very easy to compare to Max Ophüls, much because of their similar background and reasoning for coming to Hollywood. But while Ophüls was a maestro of the moving camera, Douglas Sirk was the master of the colour. Both have wonderful cinematography with depth almost untouchable, but while Ophüls films are absolutely stunning in black and white, this works somewhat against Sirk, and especially in this. You can still tell he is an excellent storyteller from the camerawork that he utilizes here, but it is quite limited and I wish I was rather watching a Sirk film in colour. Still, though, it all works well, and while there seems to be some lacking narrative, the emotions of the characters are well developed and manage to convey exactly what is going on within the characters.

Perhaps not the extravaganza that other Sirk melodrama’s are, this film still works on an emotional level, and one wouldn’t be ill-advised to watch it. However, maybe not the essential Sirk film, and while it was more serious in tone and had more developed themes, I still enjoyed Has Anyone Seen My Gal? quite a bit more.

Tuesday, 19 May 2009

Has Anybody Seen My Gal? (Douglas Sirk, 1952)


Now I’m going to start a run of reviews, six to be exact, on films by Douglas Sirk. I have a box with seven of his films; the only one I had seen was All That Heaven Allows. Recently, I watched all remaining six films within a single day, to say the least, I was hooked. I watched them chronologically; the first one in line was Has Anybody Seen My Gal?

This film is a bit different from the normal films that Sirk made. It is not a melodrama, but rather a light screwball comedy. The usual extravagant cinematography that we usually find in his film is neither present, so a lot of what has made Sirk famous is not featured in this film. So, it isn’t the treat that Sirk usually serves us, but, actually, it is still quite worthwhile watching. It is a very charming little story and enjoyable to watch. What is more, I could sense the early development of Sirk’s own use of self-referential subtext and subtle sarcasm, which is also one of his trademarks. An old man who is rich and bitter and dying, decides to go visit the family of his old flame, who chose to marry someone else over him. Since he has no family, he is contemplating giving them his money when he dies, but he first has to check them out to see if they are worthy, and he does so in secret, saying he is a lodger and living with them. He then sends them a check worth quite a lot of money, but not close to the amount they might receive in inheritance, but substantial enough so he can observe how they react and how they spend the money. And so the narrative goes on from this point.

Essentially, this is a comedy, but it does carry a subtext and message. There are also, actually, some musical numbers, although the film cannot be called a musical. These musical numbers are quite interesting and funny as well. In the first one, teenagers are dancing and singing, as if in a musical. The grumpy old man comes to the scene, and starts complaining about the singing. Although not as strong as in later films, this film does have a specific self-awareness, which is one of the things I like most about the directors Douglas Sirk and Max Ophüls Hollywood output. It does add another level of meaning and deeper context to the films, and they also manage to stay startlingly fresh compared to many other genre films of the times. Still, this film doesn’t emulate that same sense of depth, although it does point towards such moments at various times. There is also the anti-materialistic attitude there that Sirk would come back to later, as well as exploring the life and morals of the upper-class. In of itself, the film is quite enjoyable, the humour is funny and broad, the actors are wonderful, particularly the lead, played very well by Charles Coburn as the aging millionaire. The film doesn’t dwell deeply on its issues, but it does touch upon them, and therefore manages to remain somewhat more interesting than it contemporaries.

A funny and enjoyable film in its own right, this is perhaps not exactly the height of Douglas Sirk, but it did lure me softly into watching the rest of his films, although it didn’t prepare me for the rest. It is perhaps a bit mean to say that this is the worst film I’ve seen by Douglas Sirk, and it is, but it is still very enjoyable and I would say worth a watch. Douglas Sirk shows early signal of some quite interesting subversive directing that few in Hollywood could match, or indeed understand.

Weekly Top Ten: Hitchcock




Ok, so I’m trying out something new here to mix up the usual reviews I usually write, I am also going to try to write more general articles as well. Anyway, for now, I’m starting the Weekly Top Ten, every week on Wednesdays. For kick off I’ll start today, on a Tuesday, but otherwise I’ll try to make it on Wednesday. The top ten will relate to a ranking of anything having to do with film, and to start off, I’ll do my top ten favourite Hitchcock films. Yeah, I know lists don’t mean anything, but they are fun to write, and I find that reading other people’s top something or other lists have led me to discover interesting films and directors, so hopefully I can do the same to others. Anyway, the top ten Hitchcock films:


10. The Lady Vanishes (1938)
Okay, so I just reviewed this one, but it was pretty damn good and a genuine surprise. Good performances, particularly from the comedic British duo obsessed about cricket, a suspenseful plot, some truly uncanny moments and loads of light humour to make the film all the more enjoyable. Lacks a bit of the depth of Hitchcock, but otherwise a perfect film of this type.

9. Strangers on a Train (1951)
Actually a truly disturbing story with some superb performances, particularly from the “stranger”, but overall very well cast. The pacing and building up of the story is the highlight for me, as well as the brilliantly edited climax, and otherwise the establishment of the relationship between the two characters.

8. The Wrong Man (1956)
A somewhat unusual, and absurdly underrated, Hitchcock film. The cinematography is gritty and feels realistic, and the story is, apparently, based on reality. Still, the theme of a man wrongly accused or falling into a scheme he had nothing to do with is as ever present here as in many other Hitchcock films. Also great performance by Henry Fonda.

7. Psycho (1960)
This classic has been parodied so many times, that many modern viewers can watch it for the first time and still find it familiar. This only shows the everlasting effect of the horror masterpiece that can arguably be called Hitchcock’s last great classic, although I do like some of his later films. Still, going back to black and white and basically re-energizing the horror genre is a great feat from the master of suspense, and this is probably the closest he got to “pure horror”.

6. Rear Window (1954)

Jimmy Stewart and Grace Kelly just look great together on screen, and this is a fine example of cinema studying the act of looking, or basically itself. The obsessive voyeurism of the main character is fascinating, and for a film that takes place simply in an apartment block again shows how well Hitchcock slowly and steadily can build up the narrative and pacing of the film. Only grudge is that I was a bit disappointed by the ending, but otherwise this is spot on.

5. Shadow of a Doubt (1943)
Bad things don’t happen in small town, do they? Well, according to Hitchcock they definitely do, and this is allegedly his favourite film of the ones he made. The dark rising atmosphere of the city is built up to superb effect, as is the somewhat disturbing oedipal relationship between the two main characters. For the first time, truly, did Hitchcock get into the gritty stuff.

4. North by Northwest (1959)
This is perhaps a guilty pleasure, but damn it, this is perhaps Hitchcock’s most enjoyable film in terms of entertainment. Everything is perfect in this sense, the pacing, the narrative, and the fantastic exiting score, and some wonderful set-pieces, such as the scene out at the crops. Great performance from Cary Grant as the unlucky guy who gets caught up in a scheme he never had anything to do with and some of Hitchcock’s most suspenseful moments.

3. Rebecca (1940)
I don’t know, somehow I feel this one is underrated, but I sure do love it. This gothic “woman’s film” has great and sinister set design and cinematography, and characters are very memorable, although, ironically, the most memorable character was Rebecca, even though she never appears physically. Hitchcock’s first American film, it was an immediate success.

2. Notorious (1946)
I just love this film: Cary Grant as the secret agent, Ingrid Bergman as the beautiful love interest, Claude Rains as the bad guy, and Brazil as the setting. Nothing could wrong with this film, really. Though all these great elements, what is most memorable for me in this one is the brilliant use of the camera, the wonderful building of tension, and the almost violent and repulsive relationship between Bergman and Grant.

1. Vertigo (1958)
It was hard for me, really, to pick the #1 spot on this list, but in the end, it had to be Vertigo. Perhaps James Stewart’s best and most disturbing performance, as well as some beautiful colour cinematography and a haunting score this film surfaces, for me anyway, as Hitchcock’s most profound and disturbing film. Some of the stuff he does is brilliant, and Jimmy Stewart’s character’s obsession with the figure Madeleine is uniquely explored here. The camera work is at its best, particularly the early and later stages of the film are riveting.