Charade (1963)

Charade is one odd cookie of a movie.

Audrey Hepburn is Regina Lampert, who upon returning to Paris from a holiday plans to ask her husband for a divorce. When she returns to their home though she finds it completely empty and is soon notified that her husband was found dead after someone threw him from a train.

Strangers show up at his funeral and test the body to make sure he's really dead. She then finds out from CIA agent Hamilton Bartholomew (Walter Mathau) that her husband was part of a group of soldiers who buried money that they were supposed to give to the French Resistance during World War II. Mr. Lampert had recently gone back to the site and dug up the money for himself but no one could find it in his possessions. So now Regina and her new randomly-found friend Peter Joshua (Carey Grant) need to figure out where the money is so they can return it to the US before Mr. Lampert's fellow ex-soldiers hunt them down and take it from them.

If it sounds goofy with serious elements that aren't taken seriously, that's because it is. It's also all over the board.

Regina is threatened and intimidated by the ex-soldiers. But then for no apparent reason they don't scare her anymore. Then they follow suit and become more accommodating.

Regina trusts Peter even though she just met him. Then she thinks maybe she can't. Then again maybe she can. Then again, oh look there's Audrey Hepburn managing to be the most fashionable and out-of-nowhere stealthy person in Paris. (Well she was dressed by Givenchy.)

And after all this dated flightiness, I was ready to write it off. But then, in the last fifteen minutes, it becomes this suddenly gripping, really serious, really interesting film. It's as if the film was a balloon floating around Paris and suddenly someone jumped up on a chair, grabbed the string, tied a rock to it and grounded the darn thing. Really it was for the best.

Rating: 3/5

Recommended for: People who like their well-dressed screwball comedies to have sudden moments of gravitas and violence that doesn't involve animals or a man being hit in the crotch

Dial M for Murder (1954)

Dial M for Murder seems predictable enough but still holds a few surprises up its sleeve. This well-known 1954 Alfred Hitchcock-helmed howcatchem mystery stars Ray Milland, Grace Kelly, Robert Cummings and John Williams. Based on the Fredrick Knott play, the film introduces us to Tony Wendice, a former pro tennis player who is plotting to have his rich wife, Margot, killed. While Tony was focusing on his game, Margot had an affair with the American mystery writer Mark Halliday. When Tony quit tennis and started paying attention to her, she broke things off with Mark - who has now stopped by for a visit. Tony's come up with a seemingly flawless plan, but as we all know things rarely go according to plan.

The movie easily holds the audience's interest as it strolls through it's 105 minutes. Usually it's for positive reasons, although two cinematographically ick moments come to mind. One is a short sequence filmed from overhead. While Hitchcock was going for a claustrophobic atmosphere, this shot hinders by being just out of the blue. There are no security cameras involved and it's not arty. Perhaps it looked cooler in 3D (in which the movie was actually filmed). If so, it's one step above throwing something at the camera. The other jarring visual is a court room scene. It consists of a person, a blank backdrop, different color flashing lights, anguish, and voice overs. It's so stylized it slaps you in the face. There are classier ways it could have been done without building an entire court room set or even having anyone extra on screen.

Luckily the rest of the film is well done and not so distracting from the captivating plot. It's usually a concern of mine with Hitchcock films that it'll be overly creepy or horrific (i.e. The Birds), but this one isn't. Instead it gives you a story that lets you in on the game but keeps you guessing as to how it'll end.

Rating: 3/5
Recommended for: People who read the last page of a book first

The Unsuspected (1947)

The beginning of The Unsuspected finds a dead woman in the house of Victor Grandison, the host of a radio show that tells true crime stories. It's soon followed by the return of one of his nieces who'd been believed dead. The niece, Matilda, is accompanied by Steven, who claims to be her husband, but to whom she can't remember ever being married. Then there's Althea, Victor's other niece, who is married to Oliver, who was once engaged to Matilda. And Althea's not exactly thrilled that Matilda is still alive.

So yes, to say the plot is very thick right from the beginning is an understatement. And everyone manages to keep it interesting as the plot gets even more muddled before everything suddenly becomes clear. At that point, the audience is in on it but there's nothing we can do to warn the dwindling cast of good guys.

The cast gives a great ensemble performance, delivering lines naturally with nothing too overdramatic until a Grandison speech in the later half. Highlights come from Claude Rains, the penultimate supporting actor, as Victor Grandison, commanding your attention and fully committing to his character - a man who doesn't waver from his end goals for a second. Joan Caulfield is a great person for the audience to empathize with as she wanders about mildly confused at the center of the story. Director Michael Curtiz floats us through the Grandison home, making us familiar with all the rooms and giving us the impression that trouble is waiting just around the corner. The black and white film is really taken advantage of with the use of lighting to set the mood - an example being the soft glow that seems to emanate from the Matilda. And the whole production is so smooth, Hollywood could never match it with a remake today.

Rating: 4/5
Recommend for: Those who'd enjoy a good mystery without needing to grip the edge of their seat.