Alfred hitchcock

Tuesday

Boyd Tonkin

Mediterranean Gothic: The Sleepwalkers, by Scarlett Thomas, reviewed

From our UK edition

Scarlett Thomas likes islands: either literal sea-girt territories or closed enclaves where this wickedly inventive novelist practises her richly enjoyable experiments in plot and form. If her recent Oligarchy found its sour-sweet spot in a grisly girls’ boarding school, The Sleepwalkers creates another insular possession: the Greek island of ‘Kathos’, which almost resembles Samos. Here, within sight of the Turkish coast, the newlyweds Evelyn and Richard arrive as late-September storms brew to undergo their honeymoon from hell. Ever since novels such as Bright Young Things (also island-set) and PopCo, Thomas has known how to fuse an acidly satirical streak of observation with storytelling artifice that keeps her readers pleasurably unsettled and alert.

Peter Tonguette

The case for remaking great films

From our UK edition

Afew weeks ago, news broke that Paramount was planning to embark on a remake of Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo with a starring role for Robert Downey Jr. You are forgiven if your reaction is one of deep scepticism. What can possibly be gained by remaking a film widely regarded as the apex of the art form? What director today can step into the shoes of the Master of Suspense? And who would ever mistake the star of Iron Man for Jimmy Stewart?  Gut reactions of this sort remind us of the scorn with which remakes in general are usually – sometimes unfairly – met. After all, remakes are considered by all fair observers to be inherently synthetic and unoriginal, right?

Tuesday

Ian Sansom

A 50-year obsession with the white stuff: Milk, by Peter Blegvad, reviewed

From our UK edition

It’s been a while since I read a good cento, from the Latin and derived from the Greek, I need not remind Spectator readers, meaning ‘patchwork’, and thus a literary work composed of quotations from other writers, the earliest known example being Hosidius Geta’s Medea, consisting entirely of lines from Virgil and which is almost as good as it sounds. Contemporary literary centos, or cento-like creations, include a lot of very bad found poems but also Graham Rawle’s simply incredible Woman’s World (2005), a novel collaged from cut-up lines from women’s magazines, and David Shields’s profoundly plagiaristic work of literary criticism, Reality Hunger: A Manifesto (2010).

Friday

Mark Cousins

Finding the warmth in Alfred Hitchcock’s filmography

Alfred Hitchcock: the master of suspense. We grew up seeing his entertaining thrillers on TV, beautifully made movies about elegant people in danger. The glamour of To Catch a Thief; Cary Grant as the wrong man on the run in North by Northwest; Tippi Hedren looking chic with her chignon, brutally attacked in The Birds by the titular avian menace. Don’t look for heart, though. These were emotionally detached films, weren’t they? In his publicity Hitchcock joked about murder. He said that Psycho was a dark comedy. His TV programs were full of gallows humor. Critics said he had an ironic Englishness. Chilling and chilly. Maybe it’s the Celt in me, but I don’t quite see the films like that. Yes, I spot the irony, and that’s part of their appeal.

Hitchcock

Saturday

Peter Tonguette

So long, Orson Welles

During his seventy years on Earth, and for much of the nearly forty years since he left it, Orson Welles has managed to rub people the wrong way.  Welles, who was born in 1915 and died in 1985, was plainly a genius: a theatrical impresario whose Mercury Theatre was legendary in its own day; a puckish conjurer whose War of the Worlds radio broadcast misled millions; and a so-called one-man-band who, like few filmmakers before him, combined the jobs of director, producer and actor in such masterpieces as Citizen Kane, Chimes at Midnight and F for Fake.  But this record earned him little credit among the naysayers who hounded him and told us to believe them rather than our lying eyes.

orson welles

Friday

Slavoj Žižek

Where Jeanne Dielman went wrong

In the era of boring Hollywood-Marxist blockbusters like Avatar: The Way of Water, it’s quite refreshing to see Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du commerce, 1080 Bruxelles, a half-a-century-old masterpiece of European art cinema, proclaimed the best movie of all time by the 2022 Sight and Sound poll. Chantal Akerman’s 1975 film reached the top after a long delay, thereby confirming the fact that each present era retroactively rewrites its past. Jeanne Dielman is fourth in the series of Sight and Sound's best films, preceded by Eisenstein’s Potemkin, Welles’s Citizen Kane and Hitchcock’s Vertigo. The film’s triumph is, of course, the result of a well-planned campaign to promote a woman to the top position.

jeanne dielman

Friday

Peter Tonguette

Confessions of a Sight and Sound voter

As a film critic and historian who's written for Sight and Sound since 2011, I like to think that the greatest films of all time are always on my mind, but, in truth, they were particularly on my mind last summer. Last July, I received the official word that I was among the select group of critics picked to partake the Sight and Sound critics' poll to decide the greatest films ever made; a survey the British magazine first convened in 1952 and has repeated on a once-per-decade basis ever since. In the weeks before my deadline to vote, I meditated on what constituted a great film with unusual intensity and self-reflection.

sight and sound

Wednesday

Slavoj Zizek

Secret bioweapon labs are Putin’s MacGuffin 

Some commentators have already noted the strange homology between Russia’s evocation of “secret bioweapon labs” in Ukraine and the US evocation of Saddam Hussein’s weapons of mass destruction, which in both cases were used to justify military attack. It’s not that the US was unsure if Saddam had WMDs; they positively knew he did not have them, which is why they risked a ground offensive in Iraq, rather than sticking to air bombing. The nonexistent Iraqi weapons of mass destruction perfectly fulfill the role of a “MacGuffin” in Alfred Hitchcock’s films. A MacGuffin is “an object, event, or character in a film or story that serves to set and keep the plot in motion despite usually lacking intrinsic importance,” per Merriam-Webster.

bioweapon labs

Monday

Peter Tonguette

Fear thy neighbor

In an age of rancor, one thing we can all agree on is that it makes a certain amount of sense to fear the police. What other force in civil society is authorized to intrude on private life, and deny its benefits and freedoms, in quite the same way? It may be the law-abiding members of society who fear the police most palpably. While actual criminals carry knowledge of their own guilt, the innocent must live with the knowledge of how easily we could be wrongly accused, misidentified or railroaded. Alfred Hitchcock did more than any other popular artist in the last century to help form a certain image of the police in the public consciousness.

hitchcock

Thursday

Susan Hill

I’m sick of people patronising Captain Sir Tom Moore

From our UK edition

Nobody earns the right to respect just by having lived into old age, whenever that begins — it has happened by chance and by virtue of having dodged a few bullets. But everyone has the right to be treated with good manners and kindness by those with any power over them — even prisoners and toddlers having pyrotechnical tantrums. Mostly, politeness and consideration are forthcoming. It is always a shock if a bank clerk, dentist or traffic cop are brusque, perhaps because it is so rare. Still, I can stand rudeness more easily than I can tolerate being patronised, something older people encounter regularly. When Colonel Sir Tom Moore raised millions for NHS charities, everyone cheered and no one was rude about him, but my goodness was he patronised!