Divorce Was Never This Messy

 When it comes to remakes of classics of old, it is a touchy affair, one could say, to see the remake and consider it better than the original would be considered infidelity.

*See what I totally did there? :D*

Andrew Davis's re-imagining of Hitchcock's 'Dial 'M' For Murder' (which was loosely based on a play) doesn't spit upon The Master's work, nor does it try to ape it and that's why I personally feel it is the better of the two. This is perhaps one of the better contemporary suspense thrillers of last century that never fails to keep the audience pinned to the chair with anticipation and excitement.

                                                                            Orly?

Steven Taylor (a snide and quietly maliciously Machivellian Michael Douglas) lives a pretty cushy life as a business-savvy Wall Street bull who is married to the lovely (and much younger) trophy wife, Emily, a worker for the UN. This changes when Taylor's investments begin to unravel and, being the ruthless bastard he is, decides that killing Emily for her rather sizeable fortune is the best way keep his financial head above water, as ya do.
Adding fuel to this dastardly plan is the fact that Steven knows that Emily is involved in a passionate affair with David Shaw, a painter of limited means who just happens to live in a rather large loft. Rather than do the decent thing and talk to Shaw about how he's wreaking his (admittedly one-sided marriage) with Emily, Steven offers Shaw the opportunity to get a massive share in his murder plot by being the one to take Emily's life.

 

                                            "Here's to you and your trust fund, sweetie."

How's your head? It gets better, and by that, I mean more complicated. :-D


The reason why 'A Perfect Murder' works much better than it's predecessor is it's characters and their psychology. You have Steven, constantly scheming, always making plans and formulating exquisite lies, you have Emily, an unknowing victim of these plans who is trying to stay alive and get to the bottom of this shit, and then you have Shaw, who may, or may not be who he says he is, and may or may not, want to kill Emily. As convoluted as this story seems, it is something you can go with because it is masterfully done.

 

                                                                 Plus, it's pretty sexy.

While the characters and their motives are the primary focus, the rest of the movie isn't sacrificed. We have a marvelously subtle score by James Newton Howard, some terrific camera craft (a strong example being the initial attempt on Emily's life- very suspenseful) and the excellent use of the unimitable scenery of New York, as well as it's locations (I SO want Steve and Emily's townhouse! I SO want Shaw's strangely affordable studio loft!).

Sure, Hitchcock's 'Dial M' is a classic, but in no way does this update try to intrude on the ground recently tread by The Master. Technically speaking, 'Perfect' is bound more to the theatrical play that was the source of 'Dial M' and that is what gives it a separate life of it's own. Another reason why I feel 'Perfect' surpasses the 'Dial M' is because it is more culturally relevant to audiences now, even though this movie was made way back in '98. Sure it has dated a little, but it boasts a far more relatable assortment of talent as well as social relevance. For example, when it comes to pro-active female roles in cinema today, Paltrow's character, while blonde and vulnerable on the surface, is a lot tougher than Grace Kelly was. Yes, her character was a cheater, and yes, her morals are flawed, and no, she isn't exactly a role model, Paltrow ensures that Emily's strength shines through as Steven continues to secretly make her life a living nightmare.

On the whole, 'Perfect' may not be perfection, but it's quite an impressive adaptation of a remake of an original. If you are looking for a vastly entertaining suspense thriller, this one should be on the list because there is heaps to love in ample time to kill.

Perfection Comes With A Price

What can I say about 'Black Swan' that for the most part has not already been said by people who have enjoyed Darren Aranofsky's (quite frankly more compelling) rendition of popular ballet 'Swan Lake'? Nothing. Seriously, I got nothing to add. Now, while I didn't think this was a brilliant film across the board, that it not to say that it hasn't earned the positive praise it has garnered, especially the tour-de-performance of Natalie Portman as troubled ballerina Nina Sayers who just wants to be the best she can be. This is one of those movies that you have seen time and again, but as I always say, it's all in the execution and this one takes off splendidly. Now what has THIS got to do with possession? Read on.

This movie has all the right ingredients to be an effective psychosexual thriller that deals with the losing and finding of identity, repression, fighting personal inhabitions and giving it to the great void. If we look at this movie from the angle of demonic possession, it may make you scratch your head, but look at it from this perspective- you have a fragile human soul in the form of Nina being victimized by her own insecurity, an insecurity that takes many forms, one of them being free-spirit Lily (Mila Kunis). Lily isn't the BEST ballet dancer like Nina, but she does her dancing with more emotion than Nina ever has, and this affects Nina profoundly. On top of that, Nina is haunted by her demanding stage mother who wants to live vicariously through her daughter, to feel the glory she misses now that she is 'old hat'. Nina is babied, coddled and shaped by her mum, even her room looks like that of a girl child's. Then there is the matter of her ballet instructor, Tomas (Vincent Cassell), a man who uses some pretty unorthodox methods to coax the best out of his dancers, one of them being sexuality, something Nina finds almost foreign.

                                                  I will keep my own thoughts here quiet :D

All of these things comes to a head when Tomas surprisingly gives her the role of the White and Black Swan in his upcoming re-imagining of 'Swan Lake'. Nina is brillaint as the White Swan, but she lacks the passion and lust for life the Black Swan possesses, a fact that frustrates her when she sees Lily who is the very embodiment of that. So encompassing is this desire of Nina's that she subjects herself to various methods of becoming like Lily, one of them being striking up an actual friendship with her (and you know where THAT leads.). In another case, after a... shall we say, STIMULATING rehearsal with Nina, Tomas encourages Nina to pleasure herself so she is not so frigid in her performance. She does this, but then is inhibited by an outside presence which only inflames her frustrations. All of these things are demons that are possessing Nina, following her, getting into her mindset, influencing her actions, pushing her towards the very edge with devastating results.

                                                  Creatively smashed mirrors being a bonus

Forgive me for giving in to the elephant in the room, but seriously, Natalie Portman for the most part IS the movie. Certainly not to take anything away from Kunis and Cassell, both of whom are in fine form, but this movie is all about Nina and her affliction, and Portman commits herself to her character. You have to remember that not only is Portman dancing, she is also acting through her dancing, and trying to emote what Nina is feeling must have been no small feat for Portman when she was preparing for this role. I'd say that the awards she has been given were DAMN well earned.

                                                     Well done. Now eat this burger, woman!

Hopefully now somehow I have convinced you that this is more than just what it has been sold to be, and more than just an excuse to show (admittedly steamy) sapphic sex. This film is for all intents a movie about possession, but this time, it's not Satan, Legion or Glenn Beck. It is about the demons of the mind and how they are perhaps the most potent demons of them all. In the case of 'Black Swan' while succumbing to your demons may lead you to glory, there is still a price to pay- would you be prepared to pay it?

BAD GIRL!

Confession- I saw 'The Exorcist' when I was 23 years young. After I had seen so many other horror films, I had become desensitised to cinema and genre. Consequently, upon first viewing Friedkin's acclaimed adaptation of William Peter Blatty's novel, while I certainly did feel it was worth a watch (as opposed to the supposedly "OMGAWESOME" 'Friday the 13th' which I felt was an over-bloated, badly-realised piece of sh--) I just didn't see WHY WHY WHY 'The Exorcist' had been bestowed with the reputation as one of the most important horror films ever. Obviously, back when it was made it frightened many of the bums in seats, but these days, unless you have the constitution of cheap toilet papter or if you are a religion nut, it's not that mind-blowing or spiritually confrontational upfront.

                                                                         WHUT?
However.

That doesn't mean I cannot appreciate the goods that this movie offers, and belive me, there are many of them, and all of this is apart from the fantastic actors who took part in this.

Upon recently watching it again recently (two nights ago), I found that this film's disturbing factor was more effective when it was subtle as opposed to in-your-face. Okay, sure, those possession scenes were crowd pleasers, but what appealed to me the most was this is a film that without the demonic possession, was still quite eerie. An example? The scene that made me the most squeamish was when little Regan was being tested in the hospital. You can masturbate with a crucifix, walk backwards downstairs and turn your head 360 degrees as much as you like, but those are nothing compared to seeing a child being subjected to all of these invasive medical procedures only to yeild no result. To me, due to it's realism, that entire sequence made me the most uncomfortable. Addtionally, seeing Ellen Burnstyn's Chris McNeal having to watch her daughter being poked and prodded gives it all that much more of an impact. And this is before the really nasty stuff happens.

                                                              That wasn't an invitation...

Other beautiful piece of subtlety can be seen when Jesuit wonderguy Father Merrin (Max von Sydow) merely faces off with an imposing statue of Pazuzu at an archaeological site. Nothing happens, but you can feel a tension rise within that moment when good and evil face off in the calm before a battle. I don't know what it was about it that worked so much for me, the camera work, the scenery, the incredible score, or even von Sydow's and the statue's presence in the same frame, but wow.

Okay, I'm done being introverted, let's talk about the money.

For a film that was made back in the early 70's before extreme censorship became a pain in everybody's butt, this one is a corker. Frankly, I don't believe I have seen many fantastic films that effectively shows a child being exploited in such a way. Visual effects or no, Linda Blair really did make the movie work, despite her young age. I wonder what her parents thought when she was cast in such a role and became immortalized in this portrayal. In saying that, equal praise must be given to Mercedes McCambridge. Who is she? Why, she was the voice of the possessed Regan/Pazuzu- every spurt of profanity, demonic gibberish and cackling was her, and even now, she doesn't recieve the praise she deserves.

                                                                 The voice of Pazuzu

In addition to the projective pea-green vomit, self-inflicted icon mutilation and head twisting, another thoroughly effective effect in this movie is almost always blink-and-you-miss-it: Pazuzu's face. I actually had to step through a few sequences in order to find these faces because they really are that fast. Now, some of you may laugh, but this face is pretty unforgettable:

                                                                              Gack.

Although it looks nothing like Pazuzu, when you are able to catch these subliminal flashes, they make you think "What was that?" as opposed to many films these days that rely simply on shock value and cat jump scares.

Now, when the movie comes to it's finale, it would be easy to dismiss that this film preaches the tired "God ALWAYS triumphs over Satan!" rhetoric- wait a moment. Pazuzu is a demon, yes, but he was not a demon of Christianity- he was Assyrian. That being said, while little Regan is exorcised of Pazuzu, he is not vanquished, he merely chooses another body of a priest who commits suicide- you think suicide is enough to kill a demon, a demon that is not of your faith? Bless you. Given this is explored in the sequels, I won't go further on this point, but despite the fact that faith won, it was for now, not forever, which is something Friedkin (and Blatty for that matter) emphasize- it never ends.

                                                                     Look! Paz Penis!

Father's day

Often you will see films about in the wake of an apocalypse the collapse of society and the people who live in it. While these are natural developments, it's not often you see a film adapted from a book that reverses this aspect. In John Hillcoat's rendition of Cormac McCarthy's best-seller 'The Road' it is about the eternal bond between a father and son in a dead world. Both learn from each other, as a line in prose reads: "Each other's world entire..." and one cannot live without the other. You can guess just how hardy this dynamic is in a world where suicide is two bullets in a revolver away.

Although the cataclysm that has destroyed the Earth goes unnamed, that is not what this film is about- it is about family and the ties that bind. The rest of humanity has devolved into tribes of cannibalistic nomads, and the Man (Viggo Mortensen) takes it upon himself to raise the Boy (Kodi Smit-McPhee) to be a decent man so that he may 'carry the fire'. Although McCarthy' book is simplistically written (there is no grammar or chapter division), there is so much power in those words that translate effortlessly onto screen. While 'The Road' untowardly presents itself as a cautionary tale, it also reinforces the fact that deep love is indominatable, such as that between a parent and child.

As the two principal characters are really the only ones we see on screen for the most part, Mortensen and Smit-McPhee commit themselves to the piece. Although neither have a great many lines at a time, their connection can be seen through looks, body language and gesture. Mortensen's Man's only purpose is to protect the one he loves, and it is a job he fully intends to carry out, even if it means sparing his son from a fate worse than death by nearly shooting him several times. There are times that the Man's resolve to protect his son using extreme measures reach through the screen and grab onto your own state of mind- would you allow your flesh and blood to be raped and gradually eaten by strangers, or would you put an end to that misery by killing them yourself. They seem like extreme measures now, but if what happened in this film happened to you, could you go through with it? Mortensen and Smit-McPhee sell this relationship without ever devolving into schmultzy or ham-fisted territory.
But for every moment of moral distress we are shown, we also see the triumph of love. There is a sequence in which the Man gives his son a can of Coke. Given the son was born after the catastrophe, he has never seen or tasted such a basic luxury we take for granted now. It's so simple yet so poignant to see the look of delight on the Man's face when the son savours his drink.

 Addtionally, props must be given to Charlize Theron for not only does she understand her role, she also understands the nature of it that it never comes off as thankless. While the character of the Wife was only told in flashback and never makes an appearance in the story itself, I thought it was fantastic on Hillcoat and Theron's part to incorporate the Wife into the movie, because that way you are given a clearer picture of the Man's character. Theron's final scene with Mortensen is low-key but nevertheless absolutely amazing, and I am glad Hillcoat took the risk of showing us the only other connection the Man had in the aftermath of the apocalypse and the only other reason for his existence.

As depressing as 'The Road' can be, it also meditates on how important love and human will influences who we are and how we alter our environment. The world we have been given is as fragile as glass and we need to not only take care of each other, but it as well. All of what we have can be taken away in an instant, and it really is up to us to taking nothing for granted. These are generic words, but works like 'The Road' makes you believe that it is true- there is only so much of our fate we can control, so what will happen when something out of our control turns our world upside down? It's up to us to carry the fire.

Worlds Apart

                        YES, ANOTHER PERIOD PIECE! DON'T YOU LOVE ME!? :-D

BBC's re-telling of Elizabeth Gaskell's novel is gorgeous as it is depressing. I haven't actually read any of Gaskell's work to compare how this adaptation translates, but I must say, if this isn't one of the most passionate stories of repressed emotion in times of hardship and distress, I don't know what is. Think of this film as 'Pride and Prejudice' only more realistic and much more depressing.

Enjoy it while you can, love.

Margaret Hale (a lovely Daniella Denby-Ashe) is a dreamer from the idyllic south region of England who values her freedom as well as her right to speak as well as her good manners. When her father decides to pick up sticks and head for the heavily industrial north, all of the colour and love is sapped from her world and replaced by smog, cotton mills and poverty. Things don't get any better when she meets the proprieter of the local mill, a dark, brtual man by the name of John Thornton (Richard Armitage in his break out role), as he's beating the crap out of a factory worker.

                                            It doesn't help the mill is next to THIS lovely place...

Margaret and her mother don't share Mr. Hale's enthusiasim for the culture of the north, and how could they? All it is is work, death and an absolute dirge of society where the only place fully open to the public is the cemetary. When Thornton strikes up a casual friendship with Mr. Hale, Margaret is forced into closer proximity with Thornton, a prospect that frightens yet intrigues her. At the same time, as she is gradually getting used to the north's oppressive atmosphere, she becomes friends with several of the mill workers, all of whom have a different opinion of Thornton... which of course gives Margaret second thoughts about the brute's character...

                                     You wouldn't know it, but they secretly wanna make babies

I think one of the many reasons why I loved this miniseries so much is that it doesn't travel the road most walked. I mean, this tale is set during the Industrial Era- people were working, but due to the poor conditions that many places had, they weren't working very well. This was also the beginning of forming unions, worker's rights and trying to form a better working environment, something that not all business owners wanted. What I also loved was that the two leads are not like Elizabeth Bennett or Fitzwilliam Darcy, they are more like real people in a real environment who feel real emotions, and it doesn't shy away from the fact that the consequences of every action they make has consequences. The only 'soft' sequences take place in Margaret's beloved south, but it is truly the north that draws you in. However, there is an almost epic love story here that will not make you roll your eyes. Although it is not in your face, there is a passion between them, that were it not for the fact they are worlds and manners apart to begin with, they would act on in an instant. This passion is repressed, but boy is it ever there. You want these two to end up together despite the fact each thinks the other is a fool when they first meet. And if you have seen this or read the book, you know it happens, but not without some serious screw ups along the way.

                                                            How could you blame him?

Naturally, we need human anchors in a production like this to make this love story work. Denby-Ashe and Armitage are more than up to the challenge. Margaret essentially is us, the audience, and we see what she sees, and what she sees influences what we think. When she first sees Thornton beating that hapless worker, like her, we think he is some coarse creature, and as Margaret gets to know him, even if at first it is not volunatrily, as do we. Every scene they are in, they command, if not share with each other and their co-actors, and you feel you are seeing these people, not actors wearing wonderful costumes. For every sequence of the depressing state of affairs in the north, we are treated to ones of tenderness and sensitivity that are almost impossible to resist.

                                                                           Like this.

For those romanatics who are looking for another period romance to add to their collection, this may not be for you if you are all about dancing, gentility and light humour. If you are expecting something like this in 'North and South', you would be sorely mistaken (not to mention very misguided if you think every Victorian story has that stuff). This is one for romantics who don't mind that stuff, but are more realistic in their expectations. These are romantics who know that with with great passion comes great consequence, and 'North and South' fits that bill in spades. It hurts, but it hurts so good.

Rake and Virtue

I am a very vanilla person once you get to know me. I'm soft as a powder puff and twice as gentle (thanks for the line Miss Kitty :D). If I have money to spare, I give it to charities, if I see person overloaded with bags I'll help them to their car, if you ever held a gun to a kitten's head I would beg you to spare it... before I'd give you a self-righteous knuckle-sandwich. At the end of the day, I'd rather be in a good relationship rather than a bad one, but there are films, shows and stories out there that don't show a good relationship between a man and a woman, and it is those things I have a massive interest in. Case in point...

Based on the 17th century novel by Samuel Richardson, Richard Bierman's re-telling of this Georgian melodrama focuses not on the tender courting of it's lead characters, rather the fact they are virtually incompatible but they have a dangerous dynamic. The pure and virtuous Clarissa Harlowe (Saskia Wickham) is heir to a sizeable fortune due to her good and generous nature, something she does not want. She is content to live a modest life as long as she has her letters, books and independance. Despite this, her devious siblings feel that Clarissa should be put in her place and they coerce their father to entrap Clarissa in an engagement with an odious man she does not want and take away what few pleasures she has. Enter the debonair rake, Robert Lovelace (Sean Bean). A morally bankrupt man who is as notorious for his aberrant personality as he is for his conquests who sets Clarissa in his sights- he wishes to possess Clarissa, body, mind and soul. To achieve that, in his opinion, would be an act of God. And given Lovelace's opinion of himself, he is just the man for the job...

Dear Diary- I am a prick.

You'd be quite correct in assuming this lavish BBC adaptation is a melodrama because that is precisely what it is. Placing a naieve ingenue in a series of perils that threaten her being was a token staple of books of this period and it's done justice in this miniseries. Now, while this melodrama is being played right down the line, it really is the acting that gives this production it's boost. Were it not for Wickham's steely interpretation of the lovely Clarissa, the character would have been obnoxious and boring. For all of her piety and gentility, Wickham imbues Clarissa also with a wisdom that makes her a formidable combatant against Bean's Lovelace. While she may have the wool pulled over her eyes, Wickham's Clarissa is able to rely on her intelligence and wit to see her through each of Lovelace's advances.

In saying that, Bean's scheming villain Lovelace is a real piece of work. When he isn't being overt toward Clarissa, he is gleefully subversive. This is a man who enjoys the reputation he has because he knows he has the power, or at least feels he does. The more he spars with Clarissa, the more he begins to lose this control and he begins to develop feelings for her. Once again, this character may have been mustache-twirling quality on paper or in the hands of a lesser actor, but Bean gives Lovelace many layers to work with, at times he can be an absolute snake, others he can be a gentleman, but never sacrificing his agenda.

What a couple

While I have absolutely no gripes towards the rest of the capable cast, this really is Wickham and Bean's show. The relationship between their characters is dangerous as it is complicated, but not without some note of sexiness. Mind you, while Lovelace is still an ugly character, his desire for Clarissa to be his is pretty infectious, at least to me. Does he really want to simply ruin her or does he actually want to have a future with her? It's this sort of relationship that I personally love to watch, because while I value my ultimate desire to be safe, seeing something like this is a whole lot more interesting. Given I also have an interest in the Georgian period, when relationships between people appeared a lot more formal, underneath was a completely different story. In 'Clarissa' this vindicitive side of life is shown in well-recognized detail. Special props must be given to how the dialogue was scripted- given Richardson's prose was obviously not suited for television and actors, the writers must be given special credit for adapting this dialogue and making it a lot easier to follow. You can also feel the conviction of this work when the actors deliver their lines that you can actually understand what they saying and that it doesn't feel forced.

I don't truly have any issues with the series itself- given it's source material, I'm not going to accuse of being something that it makes itself out to be anyway. Perhaps it is also due to my bias toward content of this nature, but while I wouldn't say this is the best novel adaptation EVER, it would be a crime of fans of this genre and content to miss this. If you don't dig Austen, give Richardson's tale a go. For all of it's properness on the outside, there is delicious malice on the inside, and that, my friends, is what will win your heart.

Love Doesn't Always Come When Love Is Ready

Ladies and gentlemen, despite all of my perchants for bloodshed and torture and filth when it comes to film, I am a romantic. I also like Jane Austen. The way I see Austen's work is like taking a fanciful step back in time to an era where men and women relied on letters and sweet words to court each other, where both sexes dressed splendidly, took long walks across the country to breathe in the fresh air and every night was a party with dancing, pleasant conversation and hopefully catching the eye of a handsome stranger. Now, alternatively Austen's works were quite repressed when it came to the relations between men and women- very few public dances involved bodily contact between partners and society was a scrutinizing thing and sometimes it was this lack of contact that made hopes for a married life very low. In Austen's book 'Persuasion', it's protagonist Anne Elliot wanted badly to find a good husband in Frederick Wentworth, a handsome yet poor young man but was persuaded by her deceased mother's friend, a widow of all people, to break the engagement, supposedly in Anne's best interest, resulting in one of Anne's largest regrets. Destined for spinsterhood and being the overlooked middle child of a modest yet well to do family, all Anne can do is go through her life, finding solace in good company and reading. That is, until Wentworth returns from the Napoleonic Wars, a reknown captain with a considerable reputation and wealth, old feelings reignite. Can Anne and Wentworth find each other again?

                                                  A clue? YES! But not without difficulty...

Roger Mitchell's humble 1995 adaptation of Austen's novel may not have won as many hearts as BBC's adaptation of 'Pride and Prejudice' (which firmly placed Colin Firth of every red-blooded woman's map of "Ohhhhh"), but it remained true to it's material and it is ultimately a solid show. There have been criticisms that leads Amanda Root (Anne) and Ciran Hinds (Wentworth) aren't beautiful or romantic enough to play the typical Austen characters, but you must realize it was Austen's intention that Anne Elliot has 'lost her bloom', and she is not the type of woman that every gentleman in the street stops to look at, meanwhile, Hinds is a commanding actor who never disappoints in whatever role he is given, isn't like Firth's Mr. Darcy because Captain Wentworth is a man who has seen the world despite some very humble beginnings. He is thankful for all he has earned and he is wary of the world and never faults in showing good manners. When Wentworth returns to England, he tries to have little contact with Anne as possible, not because he hates her, but because he loves her too much to open those old wounds. However, that does not stop him from being a very desirable bachelor in the eyes of Anne's friend, the much younger, vivacious and pretty Louisa Musgrove who has her sights firmly planted on Wentworth as a prospective husband.
Against these odds, Anne must rely upon her wit and intelligence in order to stand out.

                                                 They may not be for all of us, but they are for each other

Note: I personally think Cirian Hinds can look pretty fucking hot... just look at his Julius Caesar in 'Rome'.

Given it is a product of it's time, this adaption doesn't look as lush as others, in fact, it looked relatively dowdy with washed out colours, even the open country excursions that the characters embark on look, well... dull. I'm one of those people who love their period films to have a little more flair and unfortunately, not a lot of this show has eye catching scenery. At times, possibly due to this lack of colour, I felt myself FEELING quite sleepy. If it weren't for the story, I would have possibly fallen asleep. :-P Addtionally I felt there was a slight oversaturation of period music in every sequence. It's not that I didn't think the music itself wasn't necessary, but too many violins, piano stings and harp can lead one to think they are listening to a relaxtion tape, which can be quite distracting to an audience when they are trying to concentrate on the story on screen. Gorgeous soundtrack though.

Broadly speaking, this show was a respectable translation of Austen's prose onto the screen. While it does not possess all of the ingredients to make a memorable Austen adaptation, it is certainly not guilty of being a boring or confusing mess. Given the subject matter that love does not always come when it is ready, it offers something different from the usual "Ohhhh, Mr. Darcy!" vibe that Austen's other works have possessed. In fact, I would venture to say 'Persuasion' is much easier to relate to by the audience because the characters do not always get what they want when the want it and most of the time, that characters are too busy with other matters to focus exclusively on romance. I would daresay that this point resonates more than we think now in the 21st century, minus the morning tea, empire dresses and polite conversation.

Psychosexuality Ahoy!

While this film is not prominent with serial killers, mistaken identities and elaborate murder plots, it feels almost like a soul sister to Hitch's psychological ripper Vertigo. The usually radiant Tippi Hedren takes a very prim and proper turn as Marnie, a frigid wallflower of a woman who aspires to achieve higher things, but something within her mind is keeping her back. Many obstacles block her way, one of them being wealthy widower Mark Rutland, (a smoldering Sean Connery, two years after making heads turn and womens' jaws drop as James Bond). While it would be a crime on my behalf to give the particulars away, what results is a study of repressed sexuality, paranoia and confusion, Hedren's character being the catalyst and the central victim of all.


What is the truth and what is the lie?

While this film possesses its own self-imposed flaws, due to budget, time and film constraints for the era, this offering by Hitch is respectable, primarily due to Hedren's performance as Marnie. Here the usually glamourous actress was given the perfect opportunity to dive deep into a complicated role and she came out a champion. If anybody who remembers her admittedly awkward performance in The Birds, they need not be wary here. Save for one somewhat ungainly moment, Hedren nails the role to the wall. Sean Connery meanwhile further cemented his reputation as a compelling actor as well as resident sex bomb, whose character makes it his mission to protect, analyze and even dominate the mystery that is Marnie. Given the Hayes Code that applied to cinema back in the day, much is implied rather than shown, but I feel it works in the favour of the tale. As expected, Hitchcock makes ample use angles, colours, a fitting score by the maestro Bernard Herrmann, and well-adapted screenplay based off the story by Winston Graham.


Can she be saved from herself... and him?

One of the things that struck me most was how sexual this film was. Granted, innuendo is no stranger to Hitchcocks' works, but this one managed to be a little more overt, and the sexual tension between Hedren and Connery's characters is so thick you could cut through it with a hot butter knife and still not reach the bottom of the cake. One particular sequence was rather racy for the time, involves one apex of the relationship between Marnie and Mark that takes place on a luxury liner that toes the line between passion and an act of imposed power. It all makes for a highly fascinating, though questionable relationship between the pair and it will no doubt leave the viewer questioning the integrity of Marnie and Mark's feelings.

While it is not as famed or impersonated as Psycho, or as talked about as Hitchcock's other blockbusters, Marnie rightly belongs in the pantheon of intelligent psychosexual drama/thrillers that have become increasingly rare in this uncompromising era of over-exposure and absurd censorship, mainly due to Hedren and Connery's performances and a stimulating plot that manages to keep you interested, if not wholly invested in the proceedings. While the morals of Mark of may leave some audience members, females in particular, a little sour, what cannot be denied is how deep Hitchcock went with this one. While it may not push the boundary of psychological intensity like Vertigo, this one isn't afraid of prodding curiously at the idea either.