Review #1,331: 'The Wrong Man' (1956)

Alfred Hitchcock earned the title of 'master of suspense' with some good old fashioned grafting (he had been making films since the silent era) combined with an understanding of the possibilities of cinema - and an eagerness to explore them - that few directors shared. Ask most film goers to name a Hitchcock film and the answer will likely be Psycho, Rear Window, The Birds or North by Northwest. Few will name The Wrong Man, the tightly constructed and thoroughly engaging little thriller from 1956, made after fluffier works To Catch a Thief and The Man Who Knew Too Much. This is perhaps because The Wrong Man is the filmmaker's least Hitchcockian effort, toning down the sugaryness (he labelled his movies as like 'slices of cake') and playing the story straight with little artistic flair. Even his obligatory cameo is reduced to mere narration at the film's opening.

Many of Hitchcock's thrillers revolve around a case of mistaken identity, which naturally forces the protagonist to make a break for it in the hope of proving his innocence before the police catch up to them. This time, however, the story is true. Based on the plight of Christopher 'Manny' Balestrero, a hard-working jazz musician who found himself identified by many witnesses as a hold-up man, The Wrong Man is Hitchcock's closest brush with realism. Shot on the streets of New York and using locations from the real-life story, there is more of a naturalistic feel to the film that what we are used to from the great director. Hitchcock still squeezes in some subtle camera tricks, depicting Balestrero's situation as disorientating, claustrophobic and increasingly hopeless. But with an actor of such effortless charisma as Henry Fonda at his disposal, Hitchcock mainly opts to tell the story through his lead actor's incredibly expressive face.

Hitchcock documents Balestrero's journey from being incorrectly identified by some terrified clerical workers when trying to take a loan from his life insurance policy for his wife's (Vera Miles) dental work, to his frustratingly unfair trial. The film is used to highlight flaws in a system designed to seek justice, in which an accused isn't allowed to give evidence to prove their innocence (as a truly innocent man doesn't need to prove anything), and a jury under oath makes their minds up before the trial even starts. It's a catalogue of errors from the very start, forcing Manny to seek out his own witnesses to prove he could not have committed the crime. The final reveal also comments on the folly of placing too much trust in eye-witness testimony, and the fact that many are still wrongly jailed due to failings in the system make the film's musings all the more poignant. One of Hitchcock's most underappreciated gems.


Directed by: Alfred Hitchcock
Starring: Henry Fonda, Vera Miles, Anthony Quayle, Harold J. Stone, Charles Cooper
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #420: 'Suspicion' (1941)

Cocky and handsome playboy Johnnie Aysgarth (Cary Grant) romances the timid Linda (Joan Fontaine) and eventually convinces her to marry him. Her father, the wealthy General McLaidlaw (Cedric Hardwicke), strongly disapproves but cannot stop the two embarking on a very expensive honeymoon, and buying an extravagant home. It is at this point that Johnnie admits he is completely broke, and has numerous gambling debts, and was hoping that Linda's inheritance will eventually sort out their problems. After Johnnie accepts a job working for his cousin, two of Linda's valuable family heirlooms go missing, and the lies and suspicious activities start to build up.

Based on the 1932 novel Before the Fact by Frances Iles, Alfred Hitchcock's thriller is notable for the casting of heart-throb and screwball comedy regular Cary Grant as a possible homicidal maniac and compulsive con-man. The man with the longest arms in cinema gives one of his most memorable performances here, morphing himself into an irresponsible, childish and spoilt degenerate with apparent ease. Joan Fontaine won the Oscar for Best Actress (the only one for an actor working under Hitchcock), but Grant has remained strangely unrecognised, perhaps for the attitudes and behaviours of his character. 

There were stories of a studio fallout during the making of this film, with RKO concerned with the fact that Suspicion may ruin Cary Grant's heroic image, and this led to major changes having to be made from the book-to-screen adaptation, and this is the film's main problem. For such a great build-up, the climax and the big unravelling is just a big let-down, with the studio's influence as clear as day. It also slightly beggars belief how much Linda's character takes from her slimy husband, whether he is a potential murderer or not. She is truly an old-fashioned female character, standing by her husband no matter what, as boys will be boys regardless. As handsome and charming as Johnnie is, it is hard to take watching Linda forgive him almost instantly as he reveals he was hoping her vast future fortune will solve his own problems. 

Yet this is still a nicely played thriller, with Hitchcock's usual big set-pieces making way for something much more low-key. It has the same kind of money-focused, pulpy feel that the Coen brother's have come to perfect in the last twenty years or so, and would not seem out of place in a Southern gothic setting. Like most Hitchcock films, Suspicion is effortlessly watchable, but it is a shame that Hitchcock was still yet to become the colossal figure in cinema that would have seen him have complete artistic control over the film, and would have no doubt led to a much more satisfying experience. 

Directed by: Alfred Hitchcock

Starring: Cary Grant, Joan Fontaine, Nigel Bruce, Cedric Hardwicke

Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #91: 'The Ring' (1927)

Alfred Hitchcock's only screen writing credit follows the story of two aspiring boxers as they slowly work their way to the top of their game. 'One-Round' Jack (Carl Brisson) works in a carnival show, using the gimmick of being able to knock any challengers out in one round to draw the crowds. When onlooker Bob Corby is reluctantly talked into going a round with Jack, he knocks him out, much to Jack's dismay and surprise. Caught between the two fighters is Jack's girlfriend Mabel (Lilian Hall Davis) who takes a liking to Bob, especially as he begins his rise up the boxing ranks. As Jack's frustration and jealousy grows, so does his success. As the two fight their way to the top, the likelihood of a climatic bout between the two protagonists increases with every fight. Ultimately it becomes a mental and physical battle for the love of Mabel.

The meaning of the title is multi-layered - of course referring the boxing ring, but also the arm bracelet that Mabel receives from Bob that comes to represent the everlasting loop that the three lead characters are caught up in. Although relatively little-seen compared to some of the popular boxing movies, Hitchcock's silent has undoubtedly had a great impact of the sport genre, especially on Scorsese's Raging Bull (1980). Hitchcock was fascinated with boxing - the idea of a physical and mental duel between two gladiators, and also with the dirty feel of the arena. Halls would be filled by both smartly-dressed socialites, and the working-class looking for a bit of escapism. The place would be filled with cigarette smoke, sweat and dirt trampled in by the masses. Although this doesn't quite have the cinematic flair of Scorsese's masterpiece, the photography is clearly comparable, and is extremely impressive given its era. This is Hitchcock's early experiment, where he would develop techniques he would come to perfect in his long-list of truly great films. A fascinating film from the man that would become one of the giants of cinema.

Directed by: Alfred Hitchcock

Starring: Carl Brisson, Lillian Hall-Davis, Ian Hunter

Country: UK

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie