Hitchcock/Truffaut

Hitchcock/Truffaut                 B               
France  USA  (80 mi)  2015  d:  Kent Jones

In America, you call this man “Hitch.”  In France, we call him “Monsieur Hitchcock.”  You respect him because he shoots scenes of love as if they were scenes of murder.  We respect him because he shoots scenes of murder like scenes of love! 

— François Truffaut, AFI Salute to Hitchcock, 1979

Certainly one of the more interesting “meetings of the minds” to come along in the last half century took place in the sterile offices of the Universal Studios of Hollywood for six days of discussion in August 1962 when 63-year old director Alfred Hitchcock agreed to sit down to an exhaustive interview and critical analysis of literally every film he ever made with 30-year old French film director François Truffaut, who had completed three films of his own by that time, and was otherwise known as a former critic and editor of the influential Cahiers du Cinéma magazine.  One of the rare books about film made by film directors themselves, after accumulating 50-hours of tape, the next four years were spent transcribing and editing the tapes into a book format, where extra sessions were needed to cover the subsequent films Hitchcock made, resulting in a book entitled Hitchcock/Truffaut published in France in 1966, released a year later in an English translation.  The book nearly overnight changed the perception of Hitchcock, a cinematic virtuoso who made his start during the Silent era before working in Hollywood, whose films were instantly recognizable, known as the “Master of Suspense,” but was viewed at the time more as a popular entertainer perhaps best known for his caricatured round profile and perfectly enunciated “Good Evening” greeting while hosting his own television show Alfred Hitchcock Presents from 1955 to 1965, using television as the medium for a series of blood curdling murder mysteries presented week by week, to not only a world-class filmmaker, but in the running for the greatest director of all time.   Asked if he wanted to piece together a documentary movie out of the surviving archival material from that interview, Film Comment editor, occasional Cahiers du Cinéma critic, and programmer of New York’s Film Society of Lincoln Center’s Kent Jones responded, “Fuck yeah!”  Broadening the idea of a conversation on film, with directors discussing the works of other film directors, Jones brought in contemporary filmmakers who have been successful in their own right to offer their views on Hitchcock, including the exclusively male-centric comments of American directors Wes Anderson, Peter Bogdanovich, David Fincher, James Gray, Richard Linklater, Paul Schrader, the ever reliable Martin Scorsese, Japanese director Kiyoshi Kurosawa, and from France, Olivier Assayas and Arnaud Desplechin.  It might have been nice to hear the views of Jane Campion, for instance, as she is thoroughly rooted in the psychology of Hitchcock, as evidenced by In the Cut (2003).

One of the reasons the book is so successful is due to the incessant hours of meticulous research and careful preparatory work put in by Truffaut ahead of time, seen as a labor love where he invested as much thought and effort to these interviews as any film he ever made, perhaps taking even Hitchcock by surprise, as his knowledge of Hitchcock’s films elevated the discussion to unforeseen heights, offering a candid view the public had never seen before, opening a window into the very soul of Hitchcock.  The book also differentiates the way artists are perceived and written about in Europe, with a certain degree of reverence, and how they are viewed in America, where disdain is commonplace and the scrutiny more closely resembles “What have you done for me lately?”  Truffaut had interviewed Hitchcock earlier for Cahiers when he was in France working on TO CATCH A THIEF (1955), but was disappointed in the vague and rather unremarkable responses he gave when questioned about aspects of the French “auteur” theory, convincing Truffaut that only a prolonged, more in-depth interview was required.  It all started with a series of complimentary letters exchanged between the two men beginning in June of 1962 when Truffaut proposed the idea to Hitchcock:  “Since I have become a director myself, my admiration for you has in no way weakened; on the contrary, it has grown stronger and changed in nature.  There are many directors with a love of cinema, but what you possess is a love of celluloid itself.” Hitchcock responded, “Dear Mister Truffaut, your letter brought tears to my eyes, and I am very grateful to receive such a tribute from you.”  With American-born Helen Scott, the daughter of an American journalist stationed in Paris acting as translator, the two men blazed a trail through the Hitchcock lexicon, picking apart traces of the Hitchcock film vocabulary that the public has become fascinated by, discovering the secrets behind famous shots, like a particularly sinister moment in Suspicion (1941) when Cary Grant carries a glass of milk that may or may not be poisoned up a flight of stairs, where Hitchcock had the audacity to place a small lightbulb in the glass, adding a special glow of distinction, or unraveling elusive meanings, like the influence of Hitchcock’s own Catholicism on films like STRANGERS ON A TRAIN (1951) or The Wrong Man (1956), where Truffaut suggests the framing of the wrongfully accused Henry Fonda, viewed only in silhouette, bowed silently in prayer in front of an iconic portrait of Jesus, that dissolves into a facial close-up of the actual guilty man, could only have been filmed by a Catholic. 

To Truffaut’s credit, he did not rely upon production stills that often never appeared onscreen, but instead borrowed 35mm prints from studio archives, including stills from British titles not available in France, and used them to provide shot-by-shot presentations of sequences, a vital strategy in understanding the near mathematical precision used in Hitchcock’s calculated editing strategy.  The book is chalk full of these accompanying photographs, along with handwritten notes by Hitchcock or drawings conceived during the conception of the films, where Truffaut’s somewhat literary approach brings these films to life with a more intimate understanding.  It also becomes clear that in France, André Bazin, film theorist and co-founder of Cahiers du Cinéma in 1951, is considered the father of film criticism, while Jean Renoir represents the epitome of French filmmaking.  But in Hollywood, a world the Cahiers critics certainly revere, no one is more admired than Hitchcock.  Wes Anderson describes his copy of the book is so worn out from constant use that it is only held together by a rubber band, while various directors chime in discussing their favorite Hitchcock moments, dissecting notable scenes, where who better than Martin Scorsese could discuss the powerful effect of framing and editing in the notorious shower scene of Psycho (1960)?  In discussing Vertigo (1958), specifically the scene when Judy (icy blond Kim Novak) perfectly resembles Madeline, the beautiful dead woman Scottie (James Stewart) is still obsessed by, Hitchcock acknowledges “I indulged in a form of necrophilia.”  In a particularly graphic moment, just as Scottie is about to consummate his desires with her, he sends her back into the bathroom because a single detail is wrong, as she is wearing her hair down while Madeline wore hers up.  “While he was sitting waiting, he was getting an erection.”  At this point Hitchcock politely asks Truffaut to turn off the tape recorder so he can tell a story not for public consumption that apparently only Truffaut and interpreter Helen Scott were privy to hear.  As all the principles are now deceased, we will never know what the story was, but one can only imagine the dirty little details.  It is this element that fascinates David Fincher, as Hitchcock’s films (like Buñuel’s) are filled with his own personal fears and fetishes, as well as sexual daydreams, where he made no attempt to hide his own psychological impulses from the characters that appear onscreen, which is one of the cherished aspects of a Hitchcock film.

Somewhat disappointing was discovering the interview was never filmed, only taped, so there are really no new revelations in the film.  Most of the photographs taken at the time have already been seen, but certainly one was initially hopeful to see personality traits developing during the course of the interview, where Truffaut tends to be eagerly enthusiastic, filled with an abundant supply of energy, while Hitchcock is the picture of aristocratic taste and refinement, never moving a muscle unnecessarily, where he is almost always portrayed in an economy of motion.  His mordant sense of humor comes through as he describes various scenes from some of his films, where he obviously relishes how the audience is impacted from the exact precision utilized to set up scenes.  Scorsese was forever affected by the aerial shots of Hitchcock, which he equates with the power of God on high, as if He’s looking down upon us, including a terrifying airborne shot of the town on fire in The Birds (1963), where the camera literally descends from the clouds above, as if casting ultimate judgement over all of us, where one of the most famous is a spectacular camera shot from NOTORIOUS (1946) that begins with a high overview of a party, as seen from the top of a banister of winding stairs, following the sweep of the action with a crane shot descending into the crowded atmosphere on the floor below, where the camera goes in search of the most important item in the room, where the crux of the film depends on the discovery of this single detail, zeroing in on a couple where after a number of shifting focuses we can identify an immaculately dressed Ingrid Bergman fidgeting nervously, as the camera zooms in on an object she’s holding in the palm of her hand, which is revealed to be a key in a stunning, perfectly timed close-up.  All the drama is compacted into the tiniest space imaginable.  While the film is heavy on Hitchcock, and does at least consider the possibility of what might have happened if he had loosened the authoritative grip over his style, but it has little to say about Truffaut, failing to explore the director’s profound influence on him, where it’s impossible to think of THE BRIDE WORE BLACK (1967) without the droll, gallows humor so representative of a tongue-in-cheek Hitchcock. While it might have been nice to get Hitchcock’s take on that film, instead he finds it incomprehensible to discover the unscripted, improvisatory style Truffaut used with his actors in JULES AND JIM (1962), as that’s simply something he would never allow.  Also missing is the considerable influence of Alma Reville, Hitchcock’s longtime wife who literally had her hand in every Hitchcock film ever made, was his closest collaborator and most trusted ally, but is hardly ever mentioned, which in this modern era seems like a criminal oversight.  So while the book remains a classic for film lovers, something that will be revered forever, the same can’t be said for this film, as the director’s comments aren’t particularly memorable, though as a trip down memory lane it’s good fun and amusingly interesting, following the example of Two in the Wave (2011), but never rises to a level of scholarship or essential viewing. 

The Pleasure Garden

THE PLEASURE GARDEN          C+            

Great Britain  Germany  (75 mi)  1925  d:  Alfred Hitchcock 

Hitchcock’s first feature film at the age of 25 is notable for several reasons, not the least of which is the assistant director Alma Reville became his eventual wife and lifelong companion, often thought to be the only other trustworthy person in the room for Hitchcock, as she was a talented writer and editor in her own right with a sharp eye for finding mistakes and inconsistencies in the frame, where at least initially, he was working for her when they first met in the London film studios of the 1920’s and were married shortly after this film was released.  But the film is also significant as the first two Hitchcock efforts (the second, THE MOUNTAIN EAGLE has been lost) were filmed in German studios, mainly in Munich, where it’s likely Fritz Lang had already begun shooting METROPOLIS (1927) at UFA Studios in Berlin, which began in May 1925, generating an interest in German Expressionism, which was a central influence in THE LODGER (1926), but also later films like Suspicion (1941) and Marnie (1964).  As a production assistant, Hitchcock was sent to visit the huge UFA studio facilities in Germany and met F.W. Murnau, even watching Murnau directing THE LAST LAUGH (1924), a silent picture that dispensed with the use of title cards and told its story entirely through visuals only.  Finally it must be noted that one of the earliest images in a Hitchcock film is that of an older man developing an instant obsession with a blonde, one of the director’s own major obsessions, as that customer is one of many of the older, well-dressed men ogling at the legs of the showgirls on display, which happens to be the first images of the movie, where the girls literally introduce themselves to the audience by walking down a circular staircase before they get into their dance routines.  The restoration has done wonders for this film, adding twenty minutes that were presumably lost, while also adding a color scheme, including sepia tones, blue, and purple, literally transforming the look of the film.  Hitchcock got his start as a designer of what were called “art titles,” embellishing the silent era title cards that provided the dialogue, adding themed backgrounds and illustrations, while he also wrote scripts, provided the art direction, and worked as an assistant director.  These art titles have been added to the film, helping establish a more natural rhythm.  From the outset, where there’s a dancer performing over the opening credits, it’s an interesting prelude of what’s coming, as it’s basically a film about two London chorus girls working at a club called The Pleasure Garden whose lives move forward in differing directions.     

The opening of this film feels familiar, as it could easily have been swiped in the making of Howard Hawks’ Funny Girl (1968), where Fanny Brice has an initial rejection as a Ziegfeld Follies girl, but steals the show once they hear her sing.  Similarly, Carmelita Geraghty as Jill is a hopeful chorus girl whose dreams are initially dashed.  As she has no place to stay, she is quickly taken under the wing of another chorus dancer, Patsy (Virginia Valli), who should have known to suspect something when Jill hogged the pillow from the opening night, but they try again the next morning, where they decide to give Jill another chance, almost as a joke, as she admits to never appearing onstage before, but her exuberant dancing impresses them enough to give her a featured role.  As the film progresses, Jill is more knowledgeable than she seems, where manipulating others to get what she wants seems to be her primary specialty, while Patsy is exactly what she seems, kind hearted and more concerned about others than her own welfare.  When Jill’s boyfriend comes to pay a visit, Hugh (John Stuart) brings along a friend, Levett (Miles Mander), who takes an interest in Patsy, where Jill agrees to wait for Hugh, as he’s about to leave to go overseas to West Africa for two years as part of his job.  It’s all Patsy can do to keep guys from pawing all over Jill, especially the money grubbing Prince Ivan (Karl Falkenberg), who seems to give her whatever she wants, but she promises Hugh she’ll take care of Jill before he leaves.  Meanwhile, Levett and Hugh are working partners so Levett is also about to leave, but he inexplicably convinces Patsy to get married first, where we see them in blue tint honeymooning along the banks of Lake Como in Italy, which is something of a disaster, as there isn’t a hint of romance, expressed when he throws away the rose on his lapel that Patsy gave him, explaining “It had wilted.”  Of interest, Hitchcock and Alma Reville took their own honeymoon at the exact same spot 18 months after filming.

Unfortunately, the film drags after that, where Patsy continues to pine away for her husband even after he’s proven to be a lout, while Jill is safely in the hands of the Prince, long since forgotten all about Hugh.  When we see shots of West Africa, presumably Ghana, Levett is sleeping with a native girl (unknown actress inaccurately credited as Nita Naldi, who was in the United States at the time of the shoot) that leaps into his arms when he returns, where she waits on him hand and foot, like an obedient slave girl, while he does nothing but drink nonstop and order her around.  It’s impossible to see how the British are benefiting by his service, which may be Hitchcock’s offhanded comment on British Colonialism.  Patsy continues to write, but her letters are unanswered until finally Levett makes a pathetic excuse about how he’s been unable to write due to a high fever.  This sets Patsy in motion, as she believes he needs her, so when she makes a surprise visit, she’s the one who’s in for a surprise, discovering a half-crazed, perpetually drunken Levett with his native girl, while Hugh is the one laid up with a fever, so she leaves her husband and nurses Hugh back to health, finding more comfort in a man who is actually happy to see her in this godforsaken place.  But not before the emaciated Levett goes full-throttle crazy, drowning the native girl (who at the time is attempting suicide, not sure that’s *ever* been depicted before, a rare moment indeed!), demanding his wife return to him, not exactly a well-thought out plan, and then has delirious, ghostly visions of the girl returning as an apparition, haunting him and driving him even more crazy.  The whole African sequence is disappointing, like a cheap melodrama, where Levett’s behavior is simply despicable, where racist colonial attitudes are everpresent, and the whole chorus girl segment disappears entirely.  The energetic enthusiasm of the more interesting dancing opening simply dies out after Patsy’s dumbfoundingly mistaken marriage, where all that’s left are troubles and travails in the tropics.   

Hitchcock

HITCHCOCK             B                     

USA  (98 mi)  2012  ‘Scope  d:  Sacha Gervasi            Official site

Interesting that a film about Alfred Hitchcock, cinema’s most legendary director, would be made by a director nobody’s ever heard of—not exactly the kind of ringing endorsement that would raise the dead from their slumbers.  Known for making a heavy metal rock ‘n’ roll documentary entitled ANVIL:  THE STORY OF ANVIL (2008), something of an offshoot of THIS IS SPINAL TAP (1984), this is quite a jump to a portrait of the Master of Suspense.  Adapted by John J. McLaughlin from Stephen Rebello’s 1990 book Alfred Hitchcock and the Making of Psycho, where he interviews virtually all surviving cast and crew members, the film is a behind-the-scenes look at Hitchcock’s personal life with his wife Alma on the making of PSYCHO (1960), a radical departure from his typical selection of sophisticated espionage or suspense stories, choosing instead to make a black and white, B-movie horror film based upon such crude and offensive material that all the other film studios had already rejected the story.  Working for Paramount Studios, his last film working with them was VERTIGO (1958), a box office flop, considered too downbeat and difficult for the viewing public, though ironically now a half a century later, the film has overtaken CITIZEN KANE (1941) as the greatest film of all time, a position KANE held for 60 years, according to a British film magazine poll of over 800 film critics polled once a decade, Sight & Sound 2012 Polls | BFI | British Film Institute, while NORTH BY NORTHWEST (1959) was a smash hit while Hitchcock was on loan to MGM Studios.  Paramount was looking to recoup their losses from Hitchcock, and when they discovered the crude source material for the film he wanted to make, they balked, refusing to finance his film.  Hitchcock was forced to borrow against his own home and finance the film himself (for about $850,000), putting his career and marriage at great risk, leaving him emotionally and financially spent, considering the continual pressure he was under to deliver a hit.

Hollywood loves these kinds of spoofs on real life, using actors that bear surprising physical resemblances to the real thing, where all one has to do is look at the Best Actor Awards of the last decade, Sean Penn as Harvey Milk in MILK (2008), Forest Whitaker as Idi Amin in THE LAST KING OF SCOTLAND (2006), Philip Seymour Hoffman as Truman Capote in CAPOTE (2005), Jamie Foxx as Ray Charles in RAY (2004), or the more recent attempt by Michelle Williams to play Marilyn Monroe in My Week with Marilyn (2011).  Unlike all of those movies, what makes this one different is the tongue-in-cheek humor expressed throughout, so it’s not so devastatingly serious all the time.  Since Hitchcock himself was possessed with such a delicious wit, this character trait seems to override all his other flaws, which are certainly on display, from the maniacal director who controls every aspect of each shot, to the over-controlling husband who suspects his wife is having an affair, to elements of psychological obsession and absurdity, as Hitchcock is a born sucker for that icy blond that continually eludes him, yet when he’s attempting to grasp how best to shoot his movie, the film literally inhabits him, like ghosts visiting Scrooge, where he often succumbs to an unhealthy dialogue with phantom spirits from his movies.  One might think Hitchcock was in touch with his subconscious, as that’s often such a prominent theme of his films, but with PSYCHO, he was playing with fire, where the devil often got the best of him.  Anthony Hopkins has no problem whatsoever making the transition from Hannibal Lecter to Hitchcock (“Just Hitch, hold the cock”), apparently relishing the perfect enunciation of every syllable, while the blunt outspokenness of Helen Mirren (never shy) is likely nothing at all like the real Alma Reville, Hitchcock’s more reclusive wife who almost always remained publicly behind the scenes, but her ability to match wits and hold the floor with her husband is a nice twist, especially the way she continually tried keeping him on a vegetable diet.  She was, apparently, Hitchcock’s boss when they first met in the London film studios of the 1920’s, with a sharp eye for finding mistakes and inconsistencies in the frame, an expert in both editing and writing, collaborating throughout her lifetime with her husband, though rarely receiving any credit.  

Hitchcock believes the mainstream popularity of his TV show Alfred Hitchcock Presents (1955 – 62) has straightjacketed him into making films that the public expects instead of the kinds of films he wants to make.  One of the more questionable, but amusing aspects of the film is Hitchcock’s interaction with Ed Gein, the notoriously grisly killer upon which PSYCHO, as well as SILENCE OF THE LAMBS (1991), is based, whose continual reappearance suggests Hitchcock’s volatile interior psyche is spilling out onto the surface, where his own insecurities often get the best of him.  Nonetheless, it’s interesting to see how Gein’s mama’s boy personality manifests itself in the squirrelly nature of Anthony Perkins (James D’Arcy).  Scarlett Johansson plays Janet Leigh, apparently grateful to be working with someone other than the equally tyrannical Orson Welles in TOUCH OF EVIL (1958), where Welles put her through Hell, actually breaking her arm during the rehearsals but going ahead with the entire shoot anyway, only to discover she’s getting killed off at about the 45 minute mark in PSYCHO, something unheard of at the time for a lead character.  Johansson is a gamer and maintains her wits about her as another notorious Hitchcock blond, the object of his subconscious desires, where it’s suggested that Jimmy Stewart’s dark psychological disturbance in VERTIGO is the closest one comes to the real life Hitchcock persona.  He was adamantly unforgiving of Vera Miles (Jessica Biel), targeting her as his next star in the lead role in VERTIGO until her pregnancy put an end to that idea, still fuming over the subsequent delays in production costs, treating her coolly on the set, giving her “a thankless role for an utterly thankless girl.”  Toni Collette is almost unrecognizable as Hitchcock’s loyal secretary, and of course the overbearing Paramount producers are seen as the moral hypocrites and cowardly backstabbers that they are.  While the underlying humor is easily the best part, which is something this young director apparently brought to the film, but like most of these biographical portraits, there are flaws galore, like a needless side story with Mirren and Danny Huston that goes nowhere, and a wrongheaded suggestion that the shower scene was somehow saved in the editing room (it wasn’t—give Hitchcock credit for knowing how to shoot a scene), but while somewhat light on substance, it’s entertaining throughout and casts a glow on Hitchcock’s illustrious career, as the picture was enormously successful and instantly changed the face of horror films forever.

Shadow of a Doubt

SHADOW OF A DOUBT             A              

USA  (108 mi)  1943  d:  Alfred Hitchcock

Love and good order is no defense against evil.        —Alfred Hitchcock

A small gem of a film, thought to be Hitchcock’s own personal favorite, perhaps his “first indisputable masterpiece” and the predecessor to David Lynch’s BLUE VELVET (1986), featuring the optimistic charm of small town America, perhaps best captured a year later by Vincent Minnelli’s 1944 film MEET ME IN ST LOUIS, here turned upside down, corrupted and grown ghastly pale, as if the life force was sucked out of it by an unhappy visitor, Joseph Cotton in one of his rare turns as an evil man with a prominent dark streak.  The film has a delicious quality to it, filled with a constant stream of clever wit and humor, written by the unlikely combination of Our Town playwright Thornton Wilder, MEET ME IN ST LOUIS writer Sally Benson, and Hitchcock’s own wife, Alma Reville, who seemed to revel in the antics of her husband’s comic obsession with death, relishing the wicked idea of having a weird killer uncle in the family, as if this provided a fountain of neverending delight.  Much of what is so marvelous about this film is the likability of the town itself, its citizens with their sunny dispositions, where suddenly one man walks among them who hates living, who thinks life is hell, who dishes out vile thoughts at the family dinner table, but people overlook it as pure nonsense, the ravings of a man who is simply tired and needs a good night’s sleep, or perhaps an extra helping of desert.  On the heels of Cotton’s brilliant performance as the ultimate misanthrope, a smooth as silk, quietly mannered, evil snake of a man, there is something amusing and startlingly unique about this unlikely combination of opposites, delivered with an understated perfection from start to finish.

The film opens with images of ballroom dancing, similar to THE MAGNIFICENT AMBERSONS (1942), only they’re dancing to a Franz Lehár tune called The Merry Widow Waltz I Love You So (Merry Widow Waltz) - The Merry Widow YouTube (3:19), introducing an appropriate recurring leitmotif (often distorted) for a Merry Widow serial killer who seduces, steals from, and murders wealthy widows, whereupon we see gobs of money laying all over the floor while Cotton is alone in his room seen from the street address as #13, where he is alone with his thoughts.  He is told two men came around looking for him and they are still waiting outside.  He takes a walk where he gives them the slip, filmed from the rooftops above as the two unlucky guys find only each other, as Cotton is looking at them from high above smoking a cigar.  Next, he’s on a train to visit his elder sister’s family in Santa Rosa, California where he is Uncle Charlie.  They look forward to his visit with great anticipation, as if it was the highlight of the year.  The black locomotive pulls into the station with gigantic puffs of black smoke, filling the sky with dark clouds of soot, as if the devil himself was arriving. 

Top billing in the credits goes to Teresa Wright, a goodness gracious, all American girl, also named Charlie after her favorite uncle, who she adores. The family dinners are reminiscent of MEET ME IN ST LOUIS, but with a slight variation, as everyone spontaneously speaks about whatever interests them.  Our first sign that something is amiss happens at that perfect family dinner setting.  The niece, Charlie, is humming the catchy Merry Widow tune that she can’t get out of her head.  Uncle Charlie, obscuring the obvious, tells her it must be The Blue Danube Waltz used so effectively by Kubrick in 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY (1968).  When she’s about to point out the error of his suggestion, he intentionally knocks over a dinner glass, a diversionary measure that may have been the basis of a similar glass breaking in Kubrick’s White Room sequence in 2001. Oddly, the head of the family, Henry Travers, the angel Clarence from IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE (1946), works at a bank and reads murder thrillers for fun, and one of his favorite past times is comparing ways he and his best friend (Hume Cronyn in his first film) might murder the other without being caught, continually relishing the idea with absolute delight as an aside at the dinner table, which drives his family mad.  Cronyn is always showing up unexpectedly to offer new ideas.  In much the same way, wherever trouble is, Cotton is sure to be lurking nearby.

A couple of detectives visit the house, posing as random questionairres searching for a typical American family, and niece Charlie figures them out, discovering they are searching for a Merry Widow Murderer who fits the description of her Uncle Charlie, which completely changes the dynamic in her bright and cheerful outlook.  She becomes moody and sullen, continuing to sneak in the back way to avoid contact with her uncle, but soon enough, he realizes she’s on to him.  There’s a magnificent sequence where she flies out of the house, Uncle Charlie heads after her.  The sidewalks are jam packed with pedestrians, while the streets are equally crammed with cars, Charlie nearly gets herself killed threading her way through the crowd, eventually running into the middle of a busy intersection where a friendly local policeman safely collects her.  Uncle Charlie pulls her into a ‘til 2 am bar and explains the facts of life: 

“You go through your ordinary little day, and at night you sleep your untroubled ordinary little sleep...You live in a dream. You're a sleepwalker, blind. How do you know what the world is like? Do you know the world is a foul sty? Do you know, if you rip the fronts off of houses, you'd find swine? The world's a hell. What does it matter what happens in it? Wake up, Charlie. Use your wits. Learn something.”  Shadow of a Doubt (1943) - YouTube  (42 seconds)

While he’s offering this delectable piece of advice, there’s an all-too brief, yet terrific appearance by a burnt out barmaid (Janet Shaw) who may be a year or so older than niece Charlie, but she’s already old before her time, an empty shell of a person that used to have a future in front of her.  Now she seems to be the living personification of Uncle Charlie’s dreary vision of the world as hell. The confrontation of the two Charlie’s, the polar opposites of good and evil, both one and the same, plays out in fine fashion, perhaps the predecessor to the multiple personalities displayed in David Lynch’s LOST HIGHWAY (1997).  First he’s guilty, then he’s not, we in the audience get played by the contradictory yet juicy elements of the evershifting storyline, all supported by a wonderful supporting cast that add humor and a change of pace to the suspense, eventually drawing us into the murky scenario of the evil uncle, who can’t stop talking about, what else? 

“Middle-aged widows…useless women…horrible, faded, fat, greedy women.”  Hitchcock Shadow of a Doubt Dinner Scene - YouTube  (1 minute)

How can you not love a guy who so plainly speaks his mind, once again, at the family dinner table, with all the kids gathered around?  All is not what it appears to be in the quiet utopian heart of smalltown USA, the picture image of happiness and economic prosperity.