Tag Archives: Freud

We Can’t Go on Together with Suspicious Minds, Except We Can and We Will

29 Dec

An Overly Lengthy Review of Suspicion.

Before the Fact

Credits roll:  I can’t help thinking Before the Fact would’ve been a better title.  Both Suspicion and Before the Fact are pretty bland, though.  I suppose Suspicion has more of a punch.

We start the movie in a train car.  Cary Grant barges into Joan Fontaine’s little suite claiming it’s too crowded in coach.  It’s dark because the train’s in a tunnel.  The train’s in a tunnel.  Get it?  Freudian stuff?  Hitchcock?  Get it?  Ay oh!

In other news, I totally recognize this scene from Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid!
We also get an extraneous shot of Joan Fontaine’s legs, which I suppose establishes Cary Grant’s sexual interest in her and expresses that even though she’s wearing glasses–quelle horreur!–she’s some sexy librarian type who’s only prim until you warm her up a little.

A train-ticket-taker dude comes in, checking errbody’s tickets and tries to kick Cary Grant out of this first class car because he only has a coach ticket.  He upgrades his ticket, but he doesn’t have quite enough money, so Cary Grant bums some cash from Joan Fontaine, except she doesn’t carry a lot of cash, so he pays with a stamp.  K.

This little exchange shows us he’s a charmer and that he’s bad with money.

Suspicion Level:  Low.  Society dude low on cash, charming ladies on trains.  Happens all the time.

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I Just Want to Be Surprised: Final Analysis Analyzed through a Hitchcock Filter

12 Jul

This post is part of The Best Hitchcock Movies (That Hitchcock Never Made) Blogathon, running from July 7th through July 13th, 2012. 

Once upon a time, Lawrence Kasdan decided to basically remake Double Indemnity except with more bathtub sex, window-breaking, and hideous moustaches and then to so subtly call this affair Body Heat.  Several other directors soon followed suit, and thus the ‘80s and ‘90s became the era of the erotic thriller.

I don’t know exactly what it was that about this particular time that made the movie soil so fertile for this sort of thing—certainly the fashion industry decided to harken back to the Golden Age for inspiration, and politics started to conservatize itself, as well.  Maybe everybody was tired of the existential cowboys and long hair and drugs that peppered the ‘60s and ‘70s.  Whatever the case, filmmakers used the tropes that Hitchcock and various and sundry noir directors had perfected to create equal parts glistening and grimy sex thrillers—perhaps thinking they were making movies the way Hitchcock would’ve if he could’ve shown more skin.

Anyway, I’ve chosen Final Analysis for this Alfred Hitchcock Blogathon–an inspired and inspiring little number cooked up by DorianTB and Becky.  However, I must admit something:  This blogathon is all about the best Hitchcock films Hitchcock didn’t make, yet this film is probably not included on any “best of” lists (certainly none of mine).  But because it strives with all its heart to be Hitchcockian, and it’s rather fun, I chose it anyway.  With that, here’s a summary to get us started.  And, of course, spoilers, subjectivity, and slight snark abound.

This screencap makes it look cheesy, but the opening credits of this movie actually set a pretty suspenseful stage (and are probably the best part of the movie).

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