It's mid-May, just after 10 o'clock in the morning, as Johansson, in a short blond wig, walks onto the dimly lit, faintly menacing set of Hitchcock , her tiny waist accentuated by the vintage cut of her blue dress. Just as Janet Leigh did in Psycho , the classic beauty ducks into a waiting eggshell-blue '55 Ford Falcon and places her hands carefully on the wheel at 10 and 2. "Are my hands in a good place?" she calls out to her director. For now, the great Alfred Hitchcock, brought to life 32 years after his death by Anthony Hopkins under a set of prosthetic jowls and a portly bodysuit, is silent as he settles into a chair next to a vintage camera. "It will be good for your close-up," says British director Sacha Gervasi. A movie within a movie, Hitchcock (in select theaters today) is an introspective look at the director's turbulent marriage to his wife and co-conspirator, Alma Reville (played by Helen Mirren), as he fought for what would be his hallmark thriller, Psycho . After Gervasi calls "action," it's Hitchcock's set. Hopkins stares down from his perch, and a grip in a '50s jumpsuit begins to pump the classic car up and down as Johansson drives against a rear projection of a desert road. "You think they can't tell, but they can. They know. You can feel that noose tighten around that breakable little neck," Hopkins intones ominously to his Janet Leigh, now Psycho's Marion Crane, on