The Ghost and Mrs Muir (1947)

First, there is Bernard Herrmann's gorgeous score. If nothing else, I could watch this film for one of the most beautiful, romantic and entrancing scores ever composed for a film. With "Vertigo" and "Psycho", it is one of Herrmann's masterpieces. Watching the film again, I realised how much of the film's magic it is due to its music.

I say magic, and really don't use the word lightly. This arguably one of the finest, most beautiful and certainly one of the loveliest films ever produced in Hollywood. I am left wondering if there is anything wrong with it - which probably there is, as nothing is perfect; but right now I am still basking on this feeling of falling in love all over again. Like love, I can't explain it all, but I will do my best.

I first came to this film in a screening in 1999 at the Portuguese Cinematheque, where has been regularly screened, as it was one of its late director favourite films. I have seen it a few times over the years (although not lately), shared it once with a friend in Bristol on a faulty DVD and had a few misses as well, chiefly missing a screening during a weekend in Paris cause I got ill.

It was directed (but not written) by Joe Mankiewicz, who brings an atypical balance of comedy, romance and other-worldliness. It is funny and touching, but you wouldn't describe it as a romantic comedy (although it might have been one if it had been filmed ten years earlier). This is a story of a young widow (Gene Tierney), who in search of independence from her nagging in-laws ends in a cottage by the sea in turn of the century England. In this cottage, she finds a ghost of the previous owner (Rex Harrison) who helps her find her independence, both financially and as an individual. George Sanders completes the leads and a very young Natalie Wood plays Tierney's daughter.

Tierney is perfect. I really can't find another word for her performance. As good as she was in "Laura" and "Leave Her to Heaven", she is even better here. She refuses to let Mrs Muir to be an object of pity, instead showing the character's strength and making you fall her over and over again. She also has the help of two fine actors - Harrison and Sanders - as the two men of her life; one alive (Sanders) and one dead or imagined (Harrison); with Harrison giving a career high performance in my opinion (with a confidence on screen that was lacking in some of his earlier British films). All three actors are actually key in Mankiewicz oeuvre; if Tierney has her summit here, Harrison would achieve it in "Cleopatra" and Sanders as the unforgettable Adison DeWitt in "All About Eve".

Charles Lang got an Oscar nomination for best Black and White cinematography. The only one that film got. Not one for Tierney, not one for Herrmann. Didn't they hear how wonderful it was? Every time I hear it, it transports me back to that cottage by the sea, surrounded by fog, and in it, a young widow is waiting for the ghost of a captain. And I'll fall in love all over again.

Psycho (1960)

I hope you'll forgive me, but I will discuss plot aspects on this one... If you have never seen "Psycho" and know nothing about it, please go away. You are one of the few who is in for a treat whenever you'll get the chance to watch it.
It's really hard to a modern audience to assess the impact "Psycho" might have had when it was first released. Since its premiere 50 years ago it has become a popular culture icon, its most famous scene copied or parodied (my favourite parody is in "The Simpsons" when Maggie hits Homer with a hammer) and the plotline is in the public domain. I went to a screening recently and unsurprising there was little reaction from the audience when we got to the shower scene. How can it be otherwise? EVERYONE knows that Marion Crane is going to get slashed.

But "Psycho" is much more than someone being murdered while taking a shower. To be fair I always thought the scene the let down of the film, but having seen it on the big screen (well, NFT1, which is about as big as it gets nowadays) I changed my mind. What's noticible on a small screen (some of the technical tricks behind it) suddenly disappeared from sight - I never noticed that the knife never actually touches Janet Leigh. Like the shower scene, another aspect of "Psycho" that has been turned into a cliché is Bernard Herrmann's string-only score. I love it and even Hitch himself admited that 33% of the success of the film was due to the music. But from homages ("Halloween") to pastiches, it's hard to see how original and brilliant that score really is. Someone who studied Herrmann's scores once told me that there is even a little off note when John Gavin disappoints Janet Leigh by something he says. Herrmann was a genius and that shows here.

Going back to the audience at my screening, there was a reaction to the second murder - although a great scene in its own right, it's not known unless you have seen the film already. It's not famous and because of that is unexpected, and unexpectedly scored - Bernard Herrmann's score almost made me jump. As such, it takes you out of your comfort zone which was Hitchcock's idea in the first place. That is the closest we can now hope to be where the director wanted us. And the same thing applies to the scene in the cellar towards the end. Again is not that well known. I remember jumping first time I ever saw the film. Totally caught me unaware.

From the opening scene Hitchcock manipulates his audience, drawing attention to the fact of the financial situation of the main characters (Janet Leigh and John Gavin) is the only obstacle to their happiness. Not your typical Hitchcock blonde, Janet Leigh's Marion Crane - not aloof, not out to get her man, not unreachable - she's also a very real character (and a very good performance). When faced with temptation she gives in. The camera keeps focusing on the money, emphasising its importance. However, poor Marion didn't think things through and she suddenly fully realises of the consequences of her action and decides to undo them. But then we get to where Hitch wanted us. Suddenly, we are revealled that the money and Marion herself, have been nothing but pure McGuffin. Norman, his mother and their motel (and what happens there) is all he had ever been interested in. And Norman is Anthony Perkins, in what became a curse of a role of which he could never release himself. He is excellent - hurt, shy, soft-spoken, a bit of a geek, an all-around nice guy with a possessive mother. The dinner scene with Janet Leigh at the motel is amazing, and don't think I ever had noticed it until now.

There are of course, some problems with the film - the most obvious being the final explanation, almost in Agatha Christie style. It is such an obvious cut from what happened before that it feels clunky - less the actual content but the manner which is presented, almost as an after-thought. John Gavin and Vera Miles don't really do much - he seems to only be there as The Hunk, and she is there to scream.

Something that I believe may surprise people is how overtly sexual it is. The film starts with Janet Leigh and John Gavin in a hotel room, just after having had sex. Behind Norman Bates' behaviour, we later find out, was his repressed desire. Sex again.

Vertigo (1958)

There are some films that I can watch over and over again, and still find new things in them, or marvel at their near-perfection. Alfred Hitchcock's Vertigo is one of them. Of course it's a cliché, but if you have seen the film I imagine you are likely to agree. It mingles love and desire with death and obsession. To say anything else is to spoil it to who ever hasn't seen it, as it is impossible not to reveal something crucial - in fact, everything is crucial here. It's one of Hitch's most perfectly built films, and consequently, one of the most perfectly built films anywhere.

At the core of it, there is what I can only describe as one of my favourite performances. Kim Novak, who is usually a rather limited actress, shows here a fenomenal range. Compare the last 15 minutes of the film with what she showed us in the beginning. What is supposed to be the same, isn't really. Where before there was an aloofness, a distance, there is now despair, intense love, sorrow and as the film approaches the climax, fear. That this performance was not acknowledged at the time with an Oscar or even a nomination just shows how unfortunate can be to some of the Academy's choices.

In fact, the film only got two Oscar nominations, and lost both: Art Direction and Sound. Where are the nominations for Film, Director, Script, Actress or Edith Head's costumes which help define Kim Novak's amazing performance? "Gigi" won most of the awards of 1958, but as much as I like it, it can't really compare.

Or for Bernard Herrmann's mesmerising score, which I can't help but love, and have heard countless times. It is one of the most original, unforgettable film scores. So why wasn't this recognised? And then there is James Stewart. I often find him limited but here, playing a rather unpleasant, ungrateful character and despite the fact he's perhaps too old and certainly obscured by Kim Novak's perfomance (I might be in a minority here), it is one of his best performances. He certainly deserved the award more than David Niven (for "Separate Tables").

But if contemporary recognition failed, time has been kind to it. It hasn't aged and has been finally recognised as the masterpiece it is.