Hitch and the Remakes - The Alfred Hitchcock Wiki The Alfred Hitchcock Wiki Hitch and the Remakes Article by Alain Kerzoncuf A version of this article first appeared on the Alfred Hitchcock Scholars "MacGuffin" website. I wish to thank Ken Mogg for polishing the English and for his Editor's footnotes below. Suspense: the stretching out of present time between two opposing possibilities in the imminent future. - Jean Douchet NOT ALL THE WORKS of Alfred Hitchcock are 'suspense' films. Nor are all the 'remakes' of his films. Nonetheless it's helpful to bear in mind Douchet's definition, which stands as one of the best to date of this word so inextricably linked to the master of the genre. On the subject of definitions, let's clarify one point. Remake = a film which tells the same story, often with the same title, as a previous production.

Also, insofar as Hitchcock rarely wrote his own screenplays, readily using material from outside sources (such as novels, plays, ideas from scriptwriters), the 'remakes' that we'll be looking at here were based, as a rule, on the same source material as the original films. An example of a 'remake' is Hitchcock's own second version of The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956), based on his 1934 film and its screenplay by Charles Bennett . Note that we shan't consider here simple 'mentions' of Hitchcock films, such as occurs in A Kiss Before Dying (James Dearden, 1991), where the actress playing the dual role of the two sisters (Sean Young) watches none other than Vertigo on television. [1] We might also consider 'veiled references' to earlier films, and 'sequels' (more about these later). However, we'd best limit ourselves to the essential, except from time to time, when to give in to temptation will be a forgivable pleasure.

This is the case with films like Roadgames (Richard Franklin, 1981), made by the director of Psycho II (1982), in which Janet Leigh 's real-life daughter, Jamie Lee Curtis, is nicknamed 'Hitch', not (ostensibly) for 'Hitchcock', but for 'hitch-hiker'. But then, two thirds of the way through the film, as she puts things in order in the truck driver's cab, we catch a glimpse of a copy of the 'Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine', a monthly collection of stories of mystery and suspense ... Now, let's get back to the essentials. It is true that, apart from The Man Who Knew Too Much, Hitchcock did not copy his own work, unlike some other film-makers. So much the better, since each new film, originating in the spotlight of his obsessions, was a kind of rebirth. His work constitutes a large family, with many children but only one set of twins. Just because a director has a consistently recognisable style does not mean that he repeats himself. Okay, but how do we classify a film like Psycho ('B'?) (1998), by Gus Van Sant?

It is undoubtedly a fairly accurate copy of the original, and virtually the only one in this genre. Must we ask 'why bother?', or just understand, and accept, that spectators want 'colour' films, especially on television? (Some viewers these days even phone a TV station during a black and white broadcast to check that their TV is not playing up!) Well, let's not throw accusations at television: it has allowed many of us to discover the talents of Sir Alfred, and for a number of years has produced 'TV films' in great quantities, though, alas, not always of great quality. A considerable number of the remakes discussed here belong to this category. Only some of these productions attempted to revive a particular style, that of the 'suspense' genre, as defined at the outset of this article. Few of those proved notably successful. The other 'remakes' fared better, probably because the subject or the story was more appropriate to the style, or the directors pushed their films in a new direction, leaving the original behind. High quality productions are all too rare.

Among those originally intended for theatrical release, we find some pleasant surprises, but once again only those in which the films (and their directors) differentiate and distance themselves from the original productions. The truth is that, regardless of the chosen medium, the more one follows in Hitchcock's footsteps, the less successful is the result likely to be, which is only logical. * * * Strangers on a Train, Rebecca, and The Lodger So, where shall we begin? The simplest way would be be to follow chronological sequence, at the risk of creating a catalogue. But let's take, to start with, a quantitative reference point by asking which is Hitchcock's most 'revisited' film? Two or three of his films have inspired at least three 'remakes' ... Strangers on a Train Let's exclude Danny DeVito's Throw Momma from the Train (1988), a veritable parody of Strangers on a Train (1951), from consideration here. This isn't to deny that DeVito handles the parody reasonably skilfully, and doesn't take himself too seriously. The latter cannot be said of three other directors who have tackled Patricia Highsmith 's story.

Once You Kiss a Stranger (1969) is attributed to Robert Sparr (whose assistant director on this film, Howard Kazanjian, was employed by Hitchcock on Family Plot seven years later). The tennis champion is now a golfer, and Bruno has become a woman, Diana. Even more startling, in Once You Meet a Stranger (Tommy Lee Wallace, 1996) the two protagonists are both women: one is called Sheila Gaines, and the other, Margo Anthony! There had also been two female protagonists in Accidental Meeting (Michael Zinberg, 1993). Rebecca In the TV film of 1962, James Mason is Maxim de Winter and Anna Massey is Mrs Danvers. 1978 brought the version by Simon Langdon, in which Anna Massey was, once again, Mrs Danvers (Massey, of course, played the tie-murderer's victim in Frenzy [1972]). In 1997, Jim O'Brien's film presented Rebecca (wait for it!) alive, or, one could say, raised from the dead! Several long shots provide a glimpse of her silhouette, and she talks!

The perverse Mrs Danvers (here played by Diana Rigg of 'The Avengers', totally unrecognisable in the part) no longer hides her Sapphic preferences. This is not the case for Mrs Van Hopper, played by Faye Dunaway, who is very 'natural' in the role. Charles Dance (otherwise not bad in White Mischief [1987]) here appears as an insipid Maxim, forcing in vain a tormented look. The Lodger In 1932 Ivor Novello was directed by Maurice Elvey (also credited as co-writer) in a version whose alternative title was The Phantom Fiend, and which is reasonably faithful to the novel by Marie Belloc-Lowndes . Here, the serial killer accepts himself for what he is, and this sound-film stands as a fair transition between Hitchcock's silent version of 1926 and John Brahm's production of 1944, the latter all too seldom shown on TV in the United States and Europe. The reputed high quality of the Brahm film is deserved.

Appearing in it are George Sanders (as the Scotland Yard Inspector), Merle Oberon (as Kitty) and Laird Cregar (as the lodger); it also has Barré Lyndon as scriptwriter, and Lucien Ballard as Director of Photography. Some critics would point out certain anachronisms concerning London monuments - which is their privilege. We can still appreciate the lighting, the musical score, and the innovative narration. Here is a truly good film among our selection of 'remakes'. The most recent reworking of this story dates from 1953: The Man in the Attic, directed by Hugo Fregonese, better known for his Gary Cooper/Barbara Stanwyk vehicle Blowing Wild (also 1953). Jack Palance is not too surprisingly cast as the notorious strangler. In fact, he looks so much the part that it's immediately obvious that he is the villain (unlike in the 1926 version). All that remains is to wait for the moment when he is revealed and commits suicide, which takes eighty minutes. The music is, to say the least, imposing and descriptive of the action, endeavouring to set a chilling tone.

However, it doesn't amount to much, not being helped by the fact that the action is intercut with two music hall song-and-dance numbers, and an interlude featuring a street singer. These musical interludes aren't integrated into the action, unlike those in the film by Brahm. Also produced by Fox, this version appears as a copy of the previous one, with even certain shots apparently repeated from it. There are some successful scenes, including the sequence in the Scotland Yard museum, yet no sooner are we drawn into the action each time than the tension begins to dissipate. A shame! These three incarnations of Jack the Ripper (there are at least five other productions about the character, but without any connection to the original novel), are filmed in black and white, perfectly suited to the depiction of foggy, anguished London nights. On the other hand, colour is consistently used in the several remaining 'remakes' of Hitchcock films. * * * Let's digress for a moment to comment on the hard work of the 'film summarisers' (how else should we call them?) who plague the columns of our magazines, and in particular our television magazines.

The idea of describing a plot in four lines, while at the same time throwing in a quick critique of the direction and the performances, makes the mind boggle. And it is here that we find the origins of that newly coined (and barbaric) term 'remake': yes, one must save time and space, but what a price to pay! The Thirty-Nine Steps, Shadow of a Doubt, and Dial M for Murder These films come in at second place in our selection of remakes, each with two later versions of the original Hitchcock masterpieces. The Thirty-Nine Steps For the first of the 'remakes', it's better (for reasons of tact) to leave description to the Truffaut-Hitchcock interview: a few sentences sum everything up, with the unfortunate Ralph Thomas given a good thrashing. Now, in Thomas's version of 1959 , a certain Don Sharp is credited as sound editor. Could he be the same person who directed the third film of the title , in 1978?

The latter film is of a slightly higher standard, this time without following the original script so precisely and preferring to set the action in the Belle Epoque (pre-1914), thus closely matching the John Buchan novel. However, as in Hitchcock's film, we see the addition of a heroine (not the case in Buchan's novel, in which the story revolves around men). Shadow of a Doubt One of the 'remakes', by Karen Arthur in 1991 , is not up to much, due, once again, to the fact that it is no easy task to rework the original, all the more so in this case. Admittedly, it is shot in colour, Uncle Charlie sports a very nice walking stick, the staircase collapses as expected, and the waltz music reminds us of something ... but we are a little bored all the same. A specialist of the Western genre, Harry Keller, directed another version of this drama, entitled Step Down to Terror (aka The Silent Stranger) in 1958, set in Santa Rosa .

But although the script is, as in the original film, based on the Gordon McDonell story , the character of young Charlie is replaced in this film by Johnny. Since this film is very difficult to come by, our disappointment can only be minimised. Dial M for Murder The same goes for the 1981 version of Dial M for Murder (by Boris Sagal), though here, unfortunately, Margot Wendice is played by (believe it or not!) Angie Dickinson. Ah, Rio Bravo! Not to mention episodes of 'Alfred Hitchcock Presents' and the 'Alfred Hitchcock Hour' - what fond memories they bring back! Thank you Angie! In France we must still hope that this film will be programmed on television some day. Another actor, Michael Douglas, clearly had his turn in breaking hearts, but in a contemporary setting in this case, and more where women were concerned. A Perfect Murder (a recent film, dating from 1998) was again adapted from the play by Frederick Knott , and shows Douglas in the role of a husband endeavouring to rid himself of his young wife.

Why on earth do Ray Milland and Michael Douglas want to murder women as beautiful as Grace Kelly and Gwyneth Paltrow? For money? Inconceivable! Impossible! In any case, this film doesn't hold a candle to the original: it is yet another fashionable film of the moment. The London husband of 1954 appears much more depraved than his 1998 New York counterpart, even if the latter has a hard time convincing us of this fact. * * * Suspicion, Notorious, Jamaica Inn, and Under Capricorn The first three of these are British, all of them made for TV. The TV remake of Under Capricorn is an Australian production. Suspicion Andrew Grieve is an accomplished Welsh director, having made a considerable number of TV-films, but who in 1988 stooped to mere imitation of the original film Suspicion (1941). It's clear that Anthony Andrews as Johnnie Aysgarth cannot measure up to the memory of Cary Grant (even in a 'colourised' version). Betsy Blair also stars, but her Lina misses by a mile!

Original writers Samson Raphaelson , Joan Harrison , and Alma Reville feature in the credits: so they should, as it is they who do all the work. Incidentally, two other titles are often mentioned as being 'Suspicion-like': Love From a Stranger (Richard Whorf, 1947) [2] and The Spiral Staircase (Richard Siodmak, 1946). Notorious The 'remake' ( 1992 ) was made for television, with the action this time set in France. We can note the perhaps surprising presence of Jean-Pierre Cassel as Alex Sebastian. He pulls through quite well, in any case better than Marisa Berenson, who plays not his mother but his sister (also a poisoner)! A little aside: the director Colin Bucksey gave his name to a film with a premonitory title, The McGuffin (1985)! Curiously, Anna Massey appears here in a minor role. Life is full of surprises!

Jamaica Inn 1982 saw the return of Jamaica Inn, in a very long version (originally over four hours, cut down to three), directed by Lawrence Gordon Clark and again adapted from the novel by Daphne du Maurier . It now revolves more around the adventures of the pretty young orphan, Mary Yellan (played by Jane Seymour), and less around the ghastly Sir Humphrey Pengallan (eminently played by Charles Laughton in 1939). As there is little chance that the reader may see this film, we may as well reveal the key to the puzzle straight away: this time it's the minister (John McEnery) who is the leader of the gang of pirates. It remains a rather regrettable film. Under Capricorn In the same year, Under Capricorn was reworked (directed by Rod Hardy, also credited with a new version of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, starring Michael Caine). This time it is a television mini-series, another lengthy production (more than two hours long). This series, like Hitchcock's film, was based on Helen Simpson 's novel and the play by John Colton and Margaret Lindon.

Sadly, Ingrid Bergman 's character is played here by Lisa Harrow. * * * Sabotage/'The Secret Agent', and Secret Agent/'Ashenden', The Lady Vanishes, etc. In 1996 the Joseph Conrad novel 'The Secret Agent' provided the basis for a new 'version' of Hitchcock's own adaptation called Sabotage (1936). This time, though, the Franco-British production kept the title of the novel. Indeed, writer/director Christopher Hampton seems to have endeavoured to differentiate himself from the earlier film in other ways, to create an original product altogether free of Hitchcock cross-references. This in itself is noteworthy, due to its rarity. First of all, Hampton followed the story line of Conrad's novel more faithfully. Additionally, the policeman character played by Robin Williams (pure Dostoyevsky) shows a depth and strength far surpassing that of Verloc (here played by Bob Hoskins, otherwise excellent, but not managing to erase our memory of the disturbing Oscar Homolka). It is worth noting the almost wishy-washy interpretation of the character called Ossipon, played by Gérard Depardieu.

To complete our collection of 'secret agents', we must not forget (though perhaps it is forgettable!) the TV-film by Christopher Morahan (a very drawn-out four hours), produced in 1991 and employing as its title the name of the Somerset Maugham character, Ashenden. Hitchcock had adapted several of these stories to the cinema screen as Secret Agent (1936). In the meantime, in 1979 , the British director Anthony Page transformed a comedy-thriller into an enjoyable over-the-top comedy, thanks to the presence of Angela Lansbury, Elliot Gould and Cybill Shepherd, who ham it up with great gusto. The story is the same, the title unchanged, but certainly we are faced here with a dressed-up interpretation of Hitchcock's The Lady Vanishes (1937). Let's not talk about the remake of Rear Window ( Jeff Bleckner, 1998 ), with Christopher Reeve in the James Stewart role. We have to draw the line somewhere!

Well, perhaps not, as one of the episodes of the British crime series 'The Detectives', entitled "Rear Window", surely overstepped the mark: in it, we see a policeman, confined to a wheelchair, witnessing a crime in a building opposite. Yes, they dared to stoop so low! * * * 9 Directors Who Remade Their Own Films | Mental Floss 9 Directors Who Remade Their Own Films Getty Images Like us on Facebook Remaking classic films for modern audiences is nothing new, but it seems as if Hollywood studios are churning out more remakes than originals every year. Usually, new directors are brought on to remake older films—but occasionally, the same director who made the original will be given the chance to remake his or her own work. Here are nine directors who did just that. 1. Yasujiro Ozu Original Film: A Story of Floating Weeds (1934) Remake: Floating Weeds (1959) To take advantage of modern filmmaking technology such as sound and color cinematography, Yasujiro Ozu remade his 1934 silent film A Story of Floating Weeds in 1959 and called it Floating Weeds.

While Ozu re-visited the same themes, stories, and artistic flourishes from film to film over his 35-year career, Floating Weeds is a more delicate and flavorful film than the original black and white version. 2. Michael Haneke Original Film: Funny Games (1997) Remake: Funny Games (2007) In 2007, Michael Haneke released a shot-for-shot remake of his 1997 Austrian psychological thriller for American audiences. It featured a new cast—Naomi Watts, Tim Roth, Michael Pitt, and Brady Corbet—and relocated the setting from Austria to Long Island, New York. The original is in German, and the remake in English. Aside from those changes, both versions of Funny Games are exactly the same, and involve a wealthy family being held hostage and tortured with sadistic and vicious physical and psychological attacks. 3. Michael Mann Original Film: L.A. Takedown (1989) Remake: Heat (1995) In 1989, Michael Mann wrote and directed a made-for-TV movie called L.A. Takedown for NBC.

The original screenplay for the flick was 180 pages, which Mann had to cut down to 110 pages to fit its TV-timeslot. After the success of The Last of the Mohicans in 1992, Mann returned to L.A. Takedown and elaborated on its narrative, characters, and themes; it became Heat, which was released theatrically in 1995. Heat is a layered film with several subplots and deeper characters, whereas L.A. Takedown is simpler and more straightforward. 4. George Sluizer Original Film: Spoorloos (1988) Remake: The Vanishing (1993) When the Dutch film Spoorloos (which translates to Without a Trace) was released in 1988, it was a critical and commercial success—not just in the Netherlands, but around the world. It received top awards and accolades from top film critics and organizations, and Hollywood recruited the original director, George Sluzer, to make an English version of the film for American audiences. That film, called The Vanishing, was poorly received for its lack of nuance, broad characters, and its new (happy) ending.

To many cinephiles and film critics, The Vanishing is a pale comparison to Sluzer's original. 5. Cecil B. DeMille Original Film: The Ten Commandments (1923) Remake: The Ten Commandments (1956) Director Cecil B. DeMille didn't shy away from large-scale set pieces, over-populated crowds, and giant film productions. In 1956, he returned to his original 1923 silent epic The Ten Commandments with the intent of making a bigger and grander version. The Ten Commandments remake featured heavyweight actors including Charlton Heston, Yul Brynner, Anne Baxter, and Edward G. Robinson, but also took advantage of new filmmaking technology such as eye-popping Technicolor, sizzling sound, and award-winning special effects. 6. Takashi Shimizu Original Film: Ju-on: The Grudge (2002) Remake: The Grudge (2004) The third film in director Takashi Shimizu's Ju-on series, Ju-on: The Grudge, was such a hit in Japan that it got the attention of major American movie studios.

Sony Pictures Entertainment commissioned Shimizu to remake his original film for American audiences. The American remake focused on only one of the original film’s six interconnected short vignettes and starred Sarah Michelle Gellar, Bill Pullman, and Jason Behr. The Grudge remake received a mixed critical response, but managed to spawn a new American film series with two subsequent sequels. 7. Ole Bornedal Original Film: Nattevageten (1994) Remake: Nightwatch (1997) In 1997, director Ole Bornedal released an American remake to his 1994 genre film Nattevageten, which translates to Nightwatch. The English-language version was almost a shot-for-shot remake of the Danish original, but starred Ewan McGregor as the university student who takes a job at a morgue as a night watchman; Bornedal shared screenwriting credits with filmmaker Steven Soderbergh. The remake was not as well received as the original, however; critics believed the new film was too shiny and glossy. 8.

Alfred Hitchcock Original Film: The Man Who Knew Too Much (1934) Remake: The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956) Alfred Hitchcock’s 51-year career spanned many eras of movie-making, but perhaps the best example of the director's progression as a true master of suspense is The Man Who Knew Too Much: the original 1934 film and its remake, released 22 years later in 1956. While the original has its merits with a resourceful heroine played by Edna Best and a very effective villain played by Peter Lorre, the American remake is far more polished and intricate, with Doris Day and James Stewart in the main roles. Although Day is more passive than Best and the villain is not as memorable as the original film’s, The Man Who Knew Too Much remake is Hitchcock’s favorite between the two films. In the legendary Alfred Hitchcock biography by French director and film critic François Truffaut, Hitchcock said of the two films, "Let's say the first version is the work of a talented amateur and the second was made by a professional.” 9.

John Woo When Directors Remake Their Own Films | ShortList Magazine Films When directors remake their own films It must be odd for film directors to see their own work remade, to have someone take something you've slaved over and twist your story into something you'd never intended. One way around this is to do the remake yourself. When Vince Vaughn's new movie Delivery Man arrives in cinemas in January it will be the second time that director Ken Scott has told the story. Last time it was as the much smaller film Starbuck, which had the same plot, about a man who discovers that sperm donating spree in his youth has made him the father of over 500 kids who want to know where they came from, but no big stars and a much smaller release. Scott is far from the first to take another shot at his own movie; it's been happening for decades. Sometimes a do-over results in an even better film, sometimes it really does not... George Sluizer – Sporloos/The Vanishing In 1988, George Sluizer made a Dutch-language film about a woman who goes missing at a petrol station and her boyfriend’s long journey to learning just what became of her.

It’s a cold, relaxed study of immense evil and though only seen by a small number of people it caught the eye of someone in Hollywood and Sluizer was asked to make it again, but with big stars and nobody speaking foreign. The remake, which features Kiefer Sutherland, a young Sandra Bullock as the girlfriend and Jeff Bridges as the man who knows her fate, deflates the horror of the ending and thus undoes the whole film. ____________________________________________________________ Alfred Hitchcock - The Man Who Knew Too Much (1934 and 1956) Hitchcock said of his twofer that “the first version is the work of a talented amateur and the second is made by a professional”. But neither should really be considered inferior to the other. Fascinatingly, they’re the same story told with very different intent. The first version is has a more sinister feel, in large thanks to Peter Lorre’s leering villain, while the latter effort is much more a zippy star-driven thriller, with James Stewart and Doris Day dashing about to try and scupper an assassination plot and save their kidnapped son. Hitchcock prefers the second one, but many disagree.

____________________________________________________________ Takashi Shimizu – Ju-On: The Grudge/The Grudge Ju-On: The Grudge was quite an effective Japanese horror movie that had a lot of jumpy moments but a pretty casual approach to sense and explanation. That kind of unresolved storytelling doesn’t go over so well with the US market, so the remake, starring Sarah Michelle Gellar, is much more straightforward horror, although in trying to make sense of the original it winds up with a very thin plot. The best moments are those taken directly from the original. Despite middling reviews it did well enough to get two sequels, with Shimizu coming back again for number 2, which was well rubbish. ____________________________________________________________ Michael Haneke – Funny Games (1997 and 2007) Michael Haneke had intended to set the original movie, about two young men who take a family hostage purely for their own amusement, in America but practicality forbade. He got his wish when he remade it 10 years later, in 2007, with an almost shot-for-shot repeat with a different cast. The purpose of it is still unclear but there’s not much to choose between the two.

So pick based on whether you want recognisable stars or one with subtitles for that more artsy feel. ____________________________________________________________ Michael Mann – L.A. Takedown/Heat In 1989, Michael Mann made a TV mini-series about a detective on the trail of a professional criminal and the great similarities of their lives. It was only ok. In 1995, Mann reworked his original script for the big screen, casting Al Pacino and Robert De Niro as the detective and the criminal. It was absolutely freakin’ amazing. ____________________________________________________________ Gela Babluani – 13 Tzameti/13 Gela Babluani’s feature debut, in which a man finds a set of instructions for an unknown job and decides to follow them with no idea of where he’s heading, immediately drew comparisons with Alfred Hitchcock. The American remake was supposed to be his calling card, with a cast including Mickey Rourke, Ray Winstone, Sam Riley and Jason Statham. But the new version had none of the atmosphere of the original and the film ultimately went straight to DVD. Hopefully Babluani will come back with something that lives up to his initial potential.

____________________________________________________________ Pang Brothers - Bangkok Dangerous (1999 and 2008) The Pang Brothers, Danny and Oxide, are hugely successful in Asia. They made three instalments in the horror series The Eye, but that grew from the success of their first movie, Bangkok Dangerous. It told of a deaf assassin still holding onto the rage of being bullied as a child. The 2008 remake with Nicolas Cage keeps little more than the name. It was so negatively received, failing to even make back its production budget, that it’s only really remembered for a poster that shows great disdain for both physiology and Photoshop. ____________________________________________________________ Cecil B. DeMille – The Ten Commandments (1923 and 1956) This one is a case of remaking being entirely acceptable. When DeMille first made the story of Moses in 1923 it was silent and in black-and-white, because that was the limit of technological possibility at the time. By the mid-1950s things had moved on considerably. Colour had been invented. As had ‘VistaVision’, a higher resolution, wider version of 35mm. As had Charlton Heston.

DeMille really went for it in his revisit and the 1956 version was, at the time, the most expensive movie ever made. It was also nearly 100 minutes longer than its predecessor. It was a huge box office success and the chariot race is still considered one of the greatest action sequences in cinema. (Images: AllStar) Audience Reviews for The Man Who Knew Too Much ½ Hitchcock was still learning his craft and improving his directing skills when he made this unimpressive and thematically flawed film that even he disliked - and the humor eliminates most of the tension while the weak script has villains whose motivations are never really clear. Carlos Magalhães Super Reviewer This is basically the film that really saw Hitchcock's film career take off and become something grand. It has his real breakout hit, and even had the distinction of being remade (by Hitchh imself), in a version that a number of people say is far superior. I haven't seen that one yet, but I plan to. The plot concerns a man who, after learning of some dire news concerning an upcoming assassination, finds his daughter kidnapped by some people who witnessed him learning of their diabolical plot.

The film then shifts to him trying ot rescue his daughter on his own as well as to stop the planned killing from taking pace. This is fast paced and familiar Hitch, but it all a lot of fun, and pretty well done. For what it's worth, it also features the English language debut of Peter Lorre, and he does quite a decent job here. All in all, this is a pretty decent way to spend 75 minutes, and there's a lot of good set pieces and moments that amp up the suspense and entertainment value. Give it a go. Chris Weber Super Reviewer Where some directors reach a creative peak from which further innovation becomes impossible, Alfred Hitchcock was constantly developing as a filmmaker, pushing the limits of what he could achieve on screen. But while this has given us some of the most superbly crafted films ever made, it has the downside of making his early work rather uneven. The Man Who Knew Too Much, like Murder! before it, finds the master still finding himself, and for all its qualities it cannot be considered a classic. There is some natural interest in The Man Who Knew Too Much as the only film which Hitchcock ever remade.

Our first thought would be that 'Hitch' was somehow dissatisfied with the results the first time around; he was, after all, working with very little money at the height of the studio system where producers held sway. But such levels of dissatisfaction with his other movies in this period never prompted him to remake any of them. For years he would express regret for the bomb going off in Sabotage, but he never contemplated building a new one to have another go. Instead, the reason for the remake lies in Hitchcock's career-long emphasis on technique over content. The remake starring Jimmy Stewart and Doris Day differs greatly from the original, not because Hitch didn't like the original, but because he saw great potential in telling the same story with more money in a slightly different way. Just as the Indiana Jones series re-imagined the classic serials of the 1930s as they would have been had they actually had budgets, so the remake is Hitchcock paying tribute to the bits of the original that work and updating those that don't. In terms of its story, The Man Who Knew Too Much is a decent thriller about ordinary people being caught up in espionage.

It is perhaps the first of Hitchcock's films to have the 'ordinary people' trope - a recurring theme of seemly unremarkable characters getting involved in matters beyond their prior knowledge or control. The opening section at the ski resort is shot in such a pleasant and charming manner that it doesn't feel like a contrived way of putting our protagonists in danger. There are a couple of memorable scenes in the 'detective' section of the film, with the characters snooping around for clues as to when the assassins are planning to strike or where they have hidden the girl. The first comes in the backstreet dentist's, where Leslie Banks confronts a dentist who works for the mob, anaesthetises him and then switches clothes so he can listen in on Peter Lorre's conversations. The other comes shortly afterwards in the church, where Banks and his companion pose as sun worshippers in a bid to find out what is going on. Both of these examples are like warm-ups for The 39 Steps, and the two films also share a common theme of loyalty to one's country being in opposition with personal loyalties and the need to save one's own skin.

When Banks' daughter is kidnapped, he is informed that if he says anything to the authorities he will never see her again. He and his wife are so distraught at the prospect of her being killed that they refuse to say anything to the man from the Foreign Office. When he retorts that "not caring about unknown men" effectively led to WWI, they simply ask him to leave. From a technical perspective, The Man Who Knew Too Much is a pretty solid effort. It doesn't have the stagey quality that Murder! did for much of its running time, and the production values are a lot higher. The wide shots are especially accomplished, particularly the clay-pigeon shooting at the beginning and the tense sequence in the Royal Albert Hall when the assassination is due to take place. The attempted assassination at the opera during The Godfather Part III closely resembles this scene, although in that case the assassin fails to make an attempt, rather than making an attempt that fails. In other areas, however, the film is not so technically sound. Whether due to poor technology at the time or the age of the print, the sound quality is quite bad, and this becomes particularly noticeable in the scenes at the Royal Albert Hall.

Some of Hitch's editing choices are quite unusual, with characters' conversations being cut off before they seemed to have been properly resolved. And the cinematography is nothing remarkable: Curt Courrant would later shoot Jean Renoir's La Bete Humaine, but here he seems to be phoning it in with fairly standard contrasts and compositions. The film fares much better in its performances. At the time of filming Peter Lorre could barely speak English: he learned all his lines phonetically, picking up bits and pieces from the crew between takes. Despite the language barrier his characterisation is great, creating a villain who has a childlike, almost babyish quality while also being ruthless, intolerant and deaf to any form of mercy. Drawing on his earlier performance in Fritz Lang's M, he creates a villainous archetype which can be seen in everything from Richard Attenborough's Pinkie Brown in Brighton Rock to Ron Lacey's sadistic Gestapo in Raiders of the Lost Ark. The performances around Lorre are also pretty solid. Nova Pilbeam was only 15 when filming began but she does very well with so little screen time.

Her career crossed paths with Hitchcock twice more, as she was considered first for Margaret Lockwood's role in The Lady Vanishes and later for Joan Fontaine's part in Rebecca. Leslie Banks and Edna Best make a convincing couple, balancing fear and trepidation with some level of resourcefulness, whether it's spying or using a gun. And George Curzon makes the best he can of the sidekick Gibson, with his role being the bumbling Watson to Banks' Sherlock Holmes. The big problem of The Man Who Knew Too Much lies, ironically enough, in its suspense. Because it reveals its hand so early on, there is far less in the way of intrigue or tension than there might have been or could have been from such a story. The film is one of Hitchcock's shortest features at only 75 minutes long, and if it were being made today its plot would barely stretch to an hour-long episode of Poirot. The source of this problem is in the lack of another Hitchcockian trope, the McGuffin.

Once it is clear that Abbott is plotting an assassination, there is nothing for the action to hide behind: it becomes more or less a case of watching all the pieces fit together and letting the set-pieces do the rest. There's still the pleasure of seeing the story being resolved without any plot holes or ridiculous twists, but it doesn't have the climactic thrill we have come to expect from Hitchcock. In The 39 Steps, the final confrontation between Richard Hannay and the spies was built up successfully through increasingly elaborate set-pieces, so that by the time we reached the final scene it carried some form of emotional significance rather than just bringing the story to a close. But on this occasion, the big climax - a shootout between assassins and police - feels tacked-on and somewhat shapeless. Rather than building bit by bit, it goes on for a certain amount of time until Hitch sees fit for some of the bullets to hit their targets, and Lorre dies in a way which seems underwhelming for such a memorable character. The Man Who Knew Too Much is a solid, jobbing effort from Hitchcock on a par with his earlier work in Murder!.

It's nothing to write home about in terms of its story or execution, and like much of Hitch's earlier films it has not stood the test of time all that well. But there is just about enough in the quality of the performances and aspects of its technical execution to pass muster for a decent, if forgettable, evening's entertainment. Daniel Mumby Blu-Ray Review: Alfred Hitchcock: The Masterpiece Collection - CraveOnline Blu-Ray Review: Alfred Hitchcock: The Masterpiece Collection Fifteen (mostly) classic films make this spectacular Blu-ray boxed set one of the best around. by William Bibbiani Nov 9th, 2012 They call Alfred Hitchcock “The Master” for a reason. His career spanned over five decades and spawned dozens of classic films, and that’s no exaggeration. Hitchcock was the kind of master storyteller we get once a generation (if we’re lucky), and was talented and prolific in equal measure. Practically any Hitchcock film is a master class in “how to do it right,” but until now, most of his films had failed to make the transition to high-definition.

Universal has fixed that with their updated, high-definition release of Alfred Hitchcock: The Masterpiece Collection, which includes 15 of Hitchcock’s films, fourteen of which rank among his very best work, even though certain highlights – Notorious, Rebecca and Spellbound among them – are not included, but only because they’re owned by different studios. If you have a film lover in your life, this is what you’re getting them for Christmas. Even if they have the previous DVD edition, many of the high-definition transfers are mindblowing, even for less acclaimed works like The Trouble with Harry and Frenzy. And every film has at least one solid behind the scenes documentary about the production, with some of the higher profile pictures – Rear Window, Vertigo, North by Northwest and Psycho – packed to the gills with special content, either because they've been released on Blu-ray before as standalone discs or because those individual releases are doubtless coming soon. Need a primer? Sure you do. So let’s review every single film in the now-available Alfred Hitchcock: The Masterpiece Collection Blu-ray set, from the established classics, to the quirky experiments, to the only genuinely crappy Hitchcock movie I have ever seen. Which one’s the disappointment?

Read on and find out. Saboteur (1942) On the surface, Saboteur looks like the kind of “wrong man” movie Alfred Hitchcock made over and over again. Under the surface… well, that’s exactly what it is, but don’t write Saboteur off as subpar Hitchcock. It’s a fascinating depiction of World War II-era America from the outsider’s perspective, in more ways than one. The director was still a recent transplant to these shores, and seemed to view this country as a crazy quilt of unique individual perspectives, and the journey of Robert Cummings from coast to coast, on the run after being wrongly accused of sabotaging a munitions plant, introduces him to the elite, the working class, the isolated freethinkers and even the freaks – as in, folks in a sideshow – as a comic overview of the personality of a nation. (Famed rebel, poet, critic and quip-master Dorothy Parker co-wrote the screenplay.) The finale, with Cummings desperately hanging on to the real saboteur, and possibly the only man who can clear his name, as the villain hangs perilously off the torch of the Statue of Liberty is still one of Hitchcock’s most iconic images.

Saboteur looks fantastic – as, again, do most of the films in this boxed set – and holds the test of time better than some of Hitchcock’s more famous films. If you haven’t seen it, or remember it as a subpar version of North by Northwest (as indeed some do), this is a perfect time to revisit this wonderful thriller. Shadow of a Doubt (1943) Shadow of a Doubt has gained popularity over the years, partly due to Hitchcock’s claim that of all his films, this is one of his favorites. It’s also one of the oddest. The plot is a classic suspense set-up: Teresa Wright stars as a teenaged girl, bored with her ordinary American existence, who gets more excitement than she bargained for when her uncle, played by Joseph Cotten, comes to town. Tragically, she comes to suspect that her most beloved family member is also a serial killer, and in order to protect her family’s ignorant happiness carries on a battle of wits (and eventually death traps) with her uncle, right under their noses.

Cotten is a marvelous villain, and Hitchcock films it beautifully, but Shadow of a Doubt has some curious conceits – like an implied psychic connection between the hero and villain – that makes it stand out as an odd, but ultimately very effective addition to his canon. Shadow of a Doubt looks better than it’s ever looked before on home video, but may have the weakest transfer on this set, showcasing a few shots with some leftover damage but overall still impressing with its renewed clarity. It’s a classic, but its weird psychological and psychosexual subtexts may be off-putting for casual fans of the master. Rope (1948) Rope would be a mere gimmick movie if it didn’t have such a rich screenplay. The film, based on a play by Patrick Hamilton (Gaslight), consists of only ten camera shots, edited to imply a single, unedited take. (Cameras only held about ten minutes of footage back in 1948.) The showmanship is daring, even if Hitchcock’s attempts at seamless editing are obvious today – he usually pushes into the back of someone’s shirt, and for no particular reason, to hide the cut – but the story’s strong enough to work on its own merits.

John Dall and Farley Granger play young aristocrats, based loosely on Leopold and Loeb, who murder one of their friends and then invite the rest of their social circle – including the victim’s fiancé and father – over for a party just minutes later, setting up the hors d’oeuvres on top of the chest containing his fresh corpse. James Stewart plays their old schoolteacher, who unwittingly gave them the idea and gradually intuits what’s really going on. Rope would be more effective if the gimmick actually related to the story or its themes, but it’s an impressive acting showcase and a crackerjack suspense story, and the high-definition transfer looks very impressive indeed. Some write the film off as one of Hitchcock’s little cinematic experiments, but even if that’s true, it’s a largely successful one. Rear Window (1954) Rear Window, in my humble opinion, is Alfred Hitchcock’s best film, and therefore, by extension, one of the best movies ever made. First, it’s a wonderful story.

James Stewart plays a photographer temporarily confined to a wheelchair who spends his lazy days spying on his neighbors out the window, one of whom (Raymond Burr) appears to have just killed his wife. As the circumstantial evidence mounts, so does Stewart’s determination to find tangible proof of the crime, but he’s forced to watch impotently from his apartment as his debutante girlfriend Grace Kelly puts herself in harm’s way for him. The film’s many suspense sequences will have you giving standing ovations by yourself in your living room, but the real meat of the movie is Hitchcock’s use of James Stewart’s voyeurism as a dissection of the audience themselves, who project their own interests and insecurities upon every film, just as Stewart sees in each of his neighbors parallels to his own relationship woes with Grace Kelly. Universal clearly made Rear Window a priority, as the remarkable transfer and relatively vast array of special features shows. The film remains one of Hitchcock’s most timeless movies, and damn it, I still say it’s better than Vertigo. But we’ll get to that.

The Trouble with Harry (1955) The Trouble with Harry used to be considered “lesser Hitchcock,” and although the film is most definitely (and strangely) compelling, it’s easy to see why. Most Hitchcock movies are at least semi-serious thrillers about the anxiety that comes from murder and mayhem. The Trouble with Harry is about an entire town of people who are curiously blasé about a corpse, named Harry, who suddenly pops up on the outskirts of their little hamlet. They each have their reasons, and the plot eventually twists and turns enough that Harry is buried and then dug up four times over the course of the film, but that particular irony is the driving force of the movie, and makes The Trouble with Harry feel like a bit of a trifle. But it’s a fascinating trifle, often very funny and always extremely weird – like a Coen Bros. movie that popped up decades before anyone was ready for it – and the transfer is surprisingly eye-popping for a film that’s not usually considered one of Hitchcock’s best. The Trouble with Harry looks like it was shot yesterday, and that’s no exaggeration. Impeccably gorgeous, and one of the best transfers in the entire set.

Many people are likely to discover The Trouble with Harry for the first time thanks to this collection, and they’re in for a very unexpected treat. The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956) Alfred Hitchcock revisited many of his favorite themes and story tropes over his over 50-year career, but The Man Who Knew Too Much was the first and only time he properly remade one of his own movies. The newer version of the original 1934 thriller stars James Stewart and Doris Day as a married couple on vacation in Morocco who accidentally become embroiled in a globetrotting assassination plot. Stewart and Day are a somewhat awkward romantic pairing, but they do sell the notion of a “normal” couple struggling to keep their wits about them after their son has been kidnapped. It’s a slower paced film than usual for Hitchcock, but a few key set pieces – including a dazzling suspense sequence at a Bernard Hermann concert (Hermann plays himself) that plays like a silent thriller unto itself – still make it stand out among the other, better films Hitchcock made along similar lines.

I’m not the biggest fan of the 1956 Man Who Knew Too Much, but it’s not a bad film by any stretch. It looks nice and all, but isn’t the highlight of this set by a long shot. Vertigo (1958) I’ve needed to revisit Vertigo since it became the new “Best Movie Ever Made” last summer in the vaunted Sight & Sound poll, and this was the perfect opportunity. While I certainly respected the film, it never cracked my top five favorite Hitchcock movies, and after watching it again, I can confidently say that it still doesn’t. It is, however, one of the director’s most daring, troubling and beautifully shot films. James Stewart stars as a recently retired police detective with a paralyzing fear of heights. He’s hired as a private investigator by an old college friend (Tom Helmore) who suspects that his wife, played by Kim Novak, is being possessed by the ghost of her grandmother, who committed suicide at an early age and might inspire her to do the same.

It’s an odd set-up, and that oddness is compounded by the fact that the story seems to end halfway through the film and then… keeps going, into a terrifying psychological study of obsession after Stewart finds a woman who… Oh, but that would be telling. Vertigo dares to go in unexpected dramatic directions, and tackle themes of obsession and relationship dominance that seem to mirror Hitchcock’s own, famous and often creepy obsessions with transforming his (often strikingly physically similar) leading ladies into whatever he wanted them to be. As a result, it’s probably his darkest movie, but the psychological horror seems to dominate the actual storyline, which plays like little more than an excuse to get the players in place to enact the ultimate subconscious nightmare. That’s a thin criticism, but also why I still prefer Rear Window, a film whose narrative and subtextual content feel more perfectly married than this. Whether you think it’s the best film ever made, just a damned good movie or even utterly weird and impenetrable, Vertigo gets the star treatment on this set, and with good cause.

North by Northwest (1959) Hitchcock followed the uncomfortably intense Vertigo with North by Northwest, one of the best thrillers ever made, and his only collaboration with Cary Grant (of which there were many) that makes an appearance in this collection. It also seems to be the exact same disc that was released individually before this, but that’s okay, since that disc was incredible and, along with The Trouble with Harry, Psycho and Frenzy, boasts one of the best transfers in this set. By the time North by Northwest came out, Hitchcock had done the “wrongly accused man on the run” storyline so many times that he felt free to get really cute with the concept. Cary Grant stars as a suave but otherwise normal New Yorker who gets confused with a secret agent named “George Kaplan,” and is unable to convince the supervillain James Mason that he’s got the wrong guy. Soon he’s framed for murder and on the run across the country, getting chased down by biplanes and crawling across the face of Mount Rushmore in a frantic attempt to clear his name, find the real George Kaplan and woo the impossibly sexy Eva Marie Saint, who is not just along for the ride.

Both Hitchcock and Grant approach North by Northwest with a wink and a smile, but never at the cost of the film’s ample suspense. By God, this is great filmmaking. But what does North by Northwest mean? Not a damned thing, just like the title. It’s just one of the most entertaining movies ever made, subtext be damned, and still puts most Hollywood blockbusters to shame. Psycho (1960) It’s been said, and I am not about to argue the point, that there are only two eras in the history of cinema: before Psycho, and after Psycho. Alfred Hitchcock, who helped define so many of the genre tropes we still use today, utterly annihilated them in this adaptation of Robert Bloch’s novel, bringing overt sexuality, graphic violence and a complete disregard for storytelling structure into the mainstream for the first time. The result was a roaring success: a terrifying and expertly crafted thriller about a woman (Janet Leigh) on the run with $40,000 who wanders into another movie altogether when she stops off at the Bates Motel, and gets carved up in the shower by the homicidal mother of Norman Bates (Anthony Perkins).

A few elements of Psycho seem a little clunky by today’s standards, particularly a long-winded explanation of the criminal’s motives in the finale (something that was surely more necessary back in the early 1960s than it is today, decades after Hitchcock cemented the serial killer tropes we now all take for granted), but the overall effect is almost as shocking as it was when Psycho debuted. Almost. Like North by Northwest, Psycho appears to be the exact same disc that was issued as a standalone before, but that disc was absolutely incredible and is still a highlight of this set. The Birds (1963) Hitchcock’s follow-up to Psycho was another straight-up horror movie that experimented with the genre, and while it didn’t have quite the same impact (what could?), it’s still a creepy film by anyone’s standards. Tippi Hedren stars as an impish socialite who follows an unwitting love interest, played by Rod Taylor (who looks uncannily like famed porn star Evan Stone), back to his isolated family home in Bodega Bay, where the birds have started acting… strange.

What begins as a light romance gradually transforms into a terrifying horror story in which all the birds in Bodega Bay, and eventually beyond, begin attacking mankind without warning, every once in a while stopping for no discernable reason before the terror resumes in ever-escalating earnest. The deliberate pacing of The Birds is, at turns, either a little slow or impossibly suspenseful, and Hitchcock’s choice to never actually explain the sudden shift in the food chain, along with his decisions not to incorporate a musical score and to end the film before anything has been resolved, creates a sense of unease rarely paralleled. But what is The Birds actually about? So much of the first half of the film focuses on issues of maternity and feminine romantic attraction that it feels like the movie is going somewhere with it, but it amounts to very little once the birds actually attack. Perhaps that’s the point… to screw with all the critics looking for deeper meaning in world with no easy answers. The Birds isn’t quite as groundbreaking as Psycho, and not quite as involving as some of Hitchcock’s other thrillers, but it’s a unique film in a career otherwise filled with consistent – and consistently effective – stylistic choices. This Blu-ray treats it with the respect it deserves.

Marnie (1964) Popular critical theory states that Alfred Hitchcock’s career was all downhill after The Birds (and some would even say after Psycho), and while it’s true that none of his later movies achieved the iconic status of his most famous films, most of them are still exceptional on their own merits, except one (but we’ll get to that one). Marnie was considered a critical failure on its initial release, but looking back on it now, it appears that Hitchcock was attempting to marry the complex psychology of Vertigo with a story that actually warranted that kind of subconscious examination. He was largely successful. Tippi Hedren stars as the title character, a compulsive career thief whose latest mark, Sean Connery, catches her in the act and decides not to call the police. Instead, he decides to marry her and solve the mystery of her criminal compulsions whether she likes it or not. Marnie is well acted, gorgeously shot, and effectively milks suspense from its intimate reinterpretation of traditional suspense tropes (unlike Notorious, the husband knows he’s marrying someone with ulterior motives beforehand), but the film suffers from themes that feel backward in a modern context.

Connery marries Hedren in order to change her, and there’s something vaguely (and in one instance, outright) degrading about the way his “love” for Hedren manifests in condescension and total control. He wants to free Marnie from her psychosis by robbing her of her freedom, which plays as ugly as it sounds but, in context of the time period, is at least fascinating to watch. Torn Curtain (1966) I had never seen Torn Curtain before this set came out (a statement I can say for every film I’m reviewing after The Birds, actually), but I was pleasantly surprised by what an engaging thriller it is. Paul Newman stars as an American scientist who defects behind the “Iron Curtain,” much to the shock of his fiancé, Julie Andrews, who follows him to East Germany in the hopes that it isn’t true. Of course it’s not true – Newman only defected to infiltrate the enemy’s science department and extract valuable secrets – but he never has enough time alone with Andrews to reveal the truth, and Andrews effectively sells the emotional tumult that ensues. That’s a fantastic set-up and, for the most part, Torn Curtain works.

The sense of betrayal is tangible, and the sense of frustration at hiding your good nature from the woman your love is equally heartfelt. The film contains several sequences that rank among Hitchcock’s best, including an almost impossibly long murder of an enemy agent (illustrating, for once, just how hard it is to actually kill someone), and a second act set piece on board a bus that I won’t ruin, because was utterly thrilled by it. The movie’s a little dry at times, but Torn Curtain is a welcome and underrated addition to Hitchcock’s oeuvre that deserves a second look. And it looks absolutely great (I seem to be saying that a lot, don’t I?). Hitchcock is still on top of film world | Roger Ebert's Journal | Roger Ebert Hitchcock is still on top of film world by Roger Ebert Tweet Nineteen years after his death, he remains as famous as any director in movie history - even Steven Spielberg . Other directors have had their films remade, but only Alfred Hitchcock made one so monumental that another director, a good one, actually tried to duplicate it, shot by shot.

Gus Van Sant 's " Psycho " (1998) was a bad idea, but it's the thought that counts. Hitchcock, who was born on Friday the 13th a century ago today, remains not only the Master of Suspense but a grandmaster of the cinema, whose films are so distinctive that anyone familiar with his work can spot one after just a few shots. Hitchcock was content, with very few exceptions, to make films about crime and guilt. There are no philosophical statements in his work, except ironic ones. Nothing is ever taken quite seriously. He used big stars, flamboyant locations, audacious camera strategies. By making a cameo appearance near the beginning of almost all of his films, he became personally famous at a time when most people never ever thought about a film's director. When most serious directors scorned television, he became even more famous with a weekly half hour program, "Alfred Hitchcock Presents." How well-known did he become? Using only a few curved lines, he was able to draw a caricature of himself that is instantly recognizable.

This case history would seem to add up to a man who was famous in his time but is now perhaps half-scorned, half-forgotten, past his sell-by date (the evolution of Cecil B. de Mille's reputation comes to mind). But Hitchcock's stature is as great as it ever was. Witness the controversy over last week's poll by Sight and Sound, the British film magazine, which asked directors to vote on Hitchcock's 10 best films. There was outrage when the list did not include "Rebecca," " Strangers on a Train " and " Rear Window ." And for that matter, where were "Suspicion" and " Spellbound "? (The top 10: " Psycho ," " Vertigo ," " Notorious ," "The Birds," "North by Northwest," " Shadow of a Doubt ," "Foreign Correspondent," " Frenzy ," "The Lady Vanishes" and "Marnie.") Name another director who could make " Strangers on a Train " and not have it ranked as one of his best 10 films. Hitchcock's favorite plot is often summarized as: the Innocent Person Wrongly Accused.

From Cary Grant in "North by Northwest" to Ingrid Bergman in " Notorious ," his characters were often blameless but seemed guilty from a certain point of view. In explaining this obsession, Hitchcock never tired of telling the story of how, when he was a young boy who had misbehaved, his father sent him down to a London police station with a note asking the desk sergeant to lock him up to teach him a lesson. Years later, Hitchcock said that on his tombstone he wanted these words: You see what can happen to you if you are not a good boy. Born in London, Hitchcock broke into silent films as a go-fer, artist and writer. The first of his own films, "The Pleasure Garden," was shot in Germany at the height of Expressionism, and throughout his career, he liked strange camera angles, dramatic shadows, weird juxtapositions, unexpected visual revelations. His first big hits were "The Man Who Knew Too Much" (1934) and "The 39 Steps" (1935), and after the huge success of "The Lady Vanishes" (1938), he was soon summoned to Hollywood by producer David O. Selznick .

Their 1940 production of "Rebecca" won the Oscar as best picture; ironically, it was a macabre romance and did not have the kind of suspense for which Hitchcock was most famous. The great stars dropped everything to work for Hitchcock. James Stewart and Cary Grant made four films with him. Ingrid Bergman, Joseph Cotten , Joan Fontaine, Henry Fonda , Joel McCrea, Grace Kelly , Kim Novak and Paul Newman appeared in his pictures. He liked to use a big star, he said, "because you can leave out the first reel, which establishes the character; the audience already knows him." He liked cool blonds (Novak, Kelly, Eva Marie Saint , Tippi Hedren , Janet Leigh ) and took delight in disheveling them. His male leads didn't play rugged but vulnerable, and it took courage for Stewart to display the weaknesses of the wheelchair-bound hero in " Rear Window " and the erotically obsessed man in " Vertigo ." Fascinated by the technical side of the movies, Hitchcock worked meticulously on his scripts, hiring artists to draw storyboards of every shot; he claimed when the screenplay was finished, it was all downhill. He set himself technical challenges.

"Lifeboat" (1944) took place entirely within a small boat, and " Rope " (1948) was knitted together out of unbroken 10- minute takes, so it looked like the whole movie was made in one shot. " Rear Window " (1954) gave Stewart a pair of binoculars and, in a virtuoso sequence, had him piece together a possible murder out of clues glimpsed through windows. In " Psycho " (1960), Hitchcock played with audience expectations by focusing entirely on a big star (Leigh) before killing her off a third of the way through the movie. " Psycho " was been called the most influential of his films, ushering in the current period of screen violence. His best film was " Vertigo " (1958); it contains a scene where Novak emerges from a ghostly green mist while Stewart watches her. In his face is exaltation: He has re-created the image of the lost woman he is obsessed with.

In her face is pain: She is not only the image of that woman, but in fact was that woman, a fact she cannot reveal - because, having cruelly deceived him, she loves him. The moral and psychological ambiguities of that scene are so complex that you can only cringe, or shiver, or pity them both.

Question: Which was the only one of his own films that Hitchcock ever remade?
Answer: THE MAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH