My Year With Hitchcock: February

This year (2026), from January until December, I'll be watching every Alfred Hitchcock film I can find. This is similar to the viewing projects I did for Woody Allen in 2016 and Disney Animation in 2022. I'll be watching a different movie each week, in chronological order and reviewing them as I go. The rule for the reviews is that I cannot reference any movie I have not yet watched. They don't exist yet. Each film is reviewed as if it were brand new (sort of). The only difference this time is that I have to watch two movies a week in January and February, since there are more than 52 movies to watch (plus TV stuff later on). Reviews will also be posted on my Letterbox'd page. 

This is everything viewed in the month of February.

WEEK 5 (two movies)

Easy Virtue (1928) - 84 min.

Watched on 2/1/26

Availability: Alfred Hitchcock’s Classics DVD set (8 films on 2 DVDs)

The first couple minutes of “Easy Virtue” are told from a judge’s point of view. Hitchcock’s subjective lens is used to humorous effect as the judge looks wearily at the theater playing out before him (part of the monotony of his job, I suppose), probably sees an open-shut case and would like to end it once and for all. Really, though, it’s Hitchcock making us the judge and jury here. After compromising on the original ending of “The Lodger,” Hitchcock sees the audience and the people he’s working for as pearl-clutching moralists who cannot fathom a beautiful person could be guilty, but at least if it’s a woman doing the crime, at least it’s deliciously scandalous, as is purported here.

Larita (Isabel Jeans) is the guilty one here, guilty of “misconduct” with another man. The high-profile case gets national attention and soon, Larita flees the country to live in the Mediterranean so she can get out of the spotlight. There, she meets John (Robin Irvine) and the two fall instantly in love. John is blissfully unaware of Larita’s past, but his family, particularly his mother (Violet Farebrother), is instantly suspicious and we know it’s only a matter of time before Larita’s past indiscretions come to light and their marriage becomes threatened. 

The back half of the film feels like “The Lodger” all over again with everyone suspicious of the new person staying in the house, but only one or two people don’t want to believe something strange is afoot. The difference here, of course, is we know more about Larita’s past than the characters. In “The Lodger,” we judged Ivor Novello’s character’s every move. Here, we’re judging the high society types who are petrified of the slightest bit of scandal being associated with their names. By the film’s end, as Larita walks out of yet another courthouse (with the same Judge as before) with throngs of press waiting to further exploit her misery, she looks right at them and us and says ‘Shoot! There’s nothing left to kill.” 

Hitchcock seems more interested in the characters this time and less interested in gimmicks to tell the story in a fanciful way. His cinematic signatures don’t pop out as much here as they had in his previous efforts, aside from the aforementioned opening scene. One particular device that stood out was the choice to only show the phone operator when John is finally calling Larita as he promised he would. We only see the phone operator connecting the cables and listening in with delight. Hitchcock also gets out of the usual hotels, city streets and fairgrounds and takes in some wide open scenery of the countryside as Larita’s new life takes on deceptively limitless possibilities.

“Easy Virtue” (based on a play by Noel Coward) blends in easily with the rest of the filmography up to this point. Hitchcock is clearly interested in how people’s past defines them and what they do with hardship when they fall victim to it. We now know not everyone is going to get what they want at the end of these movies.

The Farmer’s Wife (1928) - 112 min.

Watched on 2/4/26

Availability: Restored version on Amazon Prime

Even at this stage in his young career, the comedy “The Farmer’s Wife” felt like a left-field choice for Hitchcock and had all the earmarks of him being a director-for-hire when he clearly aspired for so much more. There is nary a trace of his visual signatures or flair for concise, cinematic storytelling. What is here is such an odd result of a movie that bears his name, but putting that aside, not entirely unwatchable. 

Hitchcock is back in the countryside where his protagonist, Farmer Sweetland (Jameson Thomas), has just lost his wife. He must marry another, his age be damned. He and his doting assistant, Aramina (Lillian Hall-Davis), make a list of prospects who live in town who might be a good match for him (or rather, who meet his physical demands). He goes out on three dates with them, makes a buffoon of himself when he gets around to proposing marriage and gets turned down flat by all of them for different reasons (one is too independent for marriage, one will never marry again and one thinks he’s too old). Has the right woman been in front of him this whole time? 

“The Farmer’s Wife” often plays like a broad comedy, no one more broader than Gordon Harker, who plays the improbably named Churdles Ash, the farmhand who sees people in love as being the ultimate detriment to society, more so than alcoholics. Hitchcock seems to be more interested in this character than the titular Farmer, who rarely gives the audience any reason to root for him. The Farmer is a true chauvinist (perhaps a surrogate for the director) while Churdles comically steals every scene he’s in, which are many. Every female character the Farmer comes in contact with, meanwhile, also has the audience on their side as they laugh in his clueless face.

Yet, in the end, we’re supposed to be happy for the new couple, though we know one of them could do a lot better. We remain unconvinced of her attraction to him, because we remain unconvinced of his noble pursuit of his “mistress of the Fram.” This is where “The Farmer’s Wife” has problems simply as a narrative. While there are some truly funny moments in the film, it feels rudderless and with a forced ending. 

It’s all such a bizarre curiosity item for Hitchcock completists. After doing a bunch of dramatic, romantic-triangle movies, how did this one come about? The best thing I’ve heard about any aspect of the production was the prank he pulled on his cast and crew at the wrap party, where he hired a waiter for each of the forty guests and had them all serve them with rudeness and contempt. I would love to see that comedy. 

In the end, “The Farmer’s Wife” will be remembered for what it isn’t rather than what it is. 

WEEK 6 (two movies)

Champagne (1928) - 105 min.

Watched on 2/8/26

Availability: Amazon Prime

Alfred Hitchcock’s “Champagne” opens with an impressive shot of a dancehall through a cube of ice after it has been splashed with the titular drink of choice. We eventually learn that we are aboard a steamship and a woman (“Girl,” played by Betty Balfour, who is later named Betty in the film, but not in the credits)  needs rescuing. Not from drowning, or jumping off the boat, but from a plane that she flew into the ocean so she could rendezvous with her lover (“Boy” played by Jean Bradin). Her wealthy father (Gordon Harker) does not approve of this relationship, but Betty marches to her own beat and is often the life of the party, much to the chagrin of Boy. A stock market crash upends all their lives and soon Betty must start anew, getting odd jobs, eventually winding up as a flower girl at the kind of chic restaurant where she would once have been a regular. 

“Champagne” has echoes of “Downhill” with its riches-to-rags storyline about survival–financial and societal–when you have nothing. This is a more comedic take on the story, or at least when the mood strikes Hitchcock, who doesn’t quite have as strong a handle on tone this time around. Say what you will about his previous film, “The Farmer’s Wife,” but at least it knew it was always a comedy. This time, though, “Champagne” has a winning lead performance at its center in Balfour, who believably conveys every one of Betty’s moments of charm, turmoil and sudden realizations that everything around her is collapsing and becoming anew. Balfour does most of the heavy lifting in believably conveying Betty and the Boy have had a long affair together, before his character reveals himself to be a bit of a bore. 

While “Champagne” does have some funny moments, it cannot overcome its incredibly silly ending–or endings. We think we can see the plot developments coming miles and miles away when Betty gets a job at an upscale restaurant, not knowing her father is putting on a ruse about them losing all their money, but the result is actually more humiliating than that for Betty. From there, the movie bends over backwards for her to end back up with Boy, someone who, after the first fifteen minutes of knowing him, just feels wrong for her. 

Still, there are moments when the film feels much more like a Hitchcock film than his previous effort. Hitchcock makes no secret of his utter contempt for the masses of rich people drinking their cares away in fancy clubs, as he dissolves from an overhead shot of them dancing carelessly together to an image of sheep cramped together in a meadow, and back again. They’re all successful, but there’s no personality in any of them. We also get the sense he might’ve had contempt for these characters and having to tell their story. At one point, Hitchcock puts a distracting, dancing chorus girl in the background during a dramatic scene, perhaps to give us something more interesting to look at than these two romantic leads in the foreground who, at this point, we know don’t deserve each other. 

“Champagne” is bookended with an image of the happy couple distorted through the lens of an empty champagne glass. At the beginning, we had a full glass, full of promise. Now that the story is over, the glass is empty, much like the film itself. 

The Manxman (1928) - 100 min.

Watched on 2/9/26

Availability: Amazon Prime

“The Manxman” opens with the quote “for what does it profit a man who gains the world, but loses his soul?” Then, we wait to see which character the quote will apply to by the film’s end. Could it be Pete (Carl Brisson), the all-smiles, optimistic fisherman who adores his girl, Kate (Anny Ondra), who happens to be the daughter of Caesar (Randle Ayrton), the keeper of the Minx fairy? Or could it be Philip Christian (Malcolm Keen), his lawyer friend who helps Pete fight for the common good in the fishing industry?

That’s the set-up, but of course, complications ensue when Pete fails to win the approval of Caesar to marry his daughter until Pete makes more money for them to live on. Pete takes a job that takes him out at sea while Philip looks after Kate. Naturally, they begin to fall in love, so much so that Kate completely loses interest in Pete. Then, they get erroneous news that Pete has died at sea. Not so, but Kate’s feelings have long since dissipated since his departure, but still must put up a charade that she loves him. 

It feels like Hitchcock has told this type of story a few times up to now. The standard love triangle, or variations of it, appeared to be his forte during this period. Audiences must have wondered, “what happened to all that talent that made ‘The Lodger’ so memorable?” The only trace of interest on that level comes from cinematographer Jack Cox, who captures some stunning images, particularly one in which Kate runs through a field, with a looming cloud formation moving in the opposite direction and dominating the frame. There is also a beautiful montage of images over Kate’s dispirited face as she prepares for her wedding.

“The Manxman” is a step up from the previous two films Hitchcock made, “The Farmer’s Wife” and “Champagne,” but not by much. Part of the problem is in the casting. While Ondra is perfect in the role of Kate, her two possible outcomes for suitors are either too gushing (Brisson) or too stiff (Keen). We’re never convinced she would find either of them attractive or have much in the way of chemistry. I guess we should be thankful that they at least have names this time around.

Who she ends up with and how she gets there does separate the movie from the pack, though. “The Manxman” does not end on a happy note and that’s a thankful change of pace, especially after the forced and careless ending of “Champagne.” Though it is known that Hitchcock never cared for this film (that’s probably putting it mildly), it was a success, even though it sat on the shelf for a long time. One more underwhelming assignment like this from the studio, with his lack of enthusiasm to match, though, and that might have been it for Hitchcock. 

WEEK 7 (two movies)

Blackmail (1929) - 86 min.

Watched on 2/15/26 

Availability: Amazon Prime

With “Blackmail,” Hitchcock was able to free himself from the usual mold he had been trapped in for the past several films of maudlin love triangles and get back to the kind of story that he clearly enjoyed and that he hadn’t made since “The Lodger.” “Blackmail” finds the director falling in love with the form all over again and finding new inspiration, not just visually, but finally, with sound and dialogue. 

Of course, we don’t hear any dialogue until about eight-and-a-half minutes in and while we don’t read any title cards to give us context like we’re used to, it is clear where these characters are, who the good guys and the bad guys are. Hitchcock makes it clear that he’s moving into the new sound era, but will remain a visually inventive filmmaker. 

In the film, a police detective in New Scotland Yard, Frank Webber (John Longden), and his girlfriend, Alice White (Anny Ondra, from “The Manxman”), have a less than passionate relationship. She often finds herself bored with him and has an affair on the side with an artist she meets at the same club she attends with Frank. One night, she goes home with him and they make a painting together. They seem to have some chemistry until he has her try on a dress (why on earth does he have that dress?) and tries to force himself on her with a kiss. A crime is committed and we wait for when the film’s title actually comes to fruition within the story. 

What a pleasure it is just to watch this film, even if it didn’t have dialogue. Ondra, who was easily the best part of “The Manxman,” is even better here. Her expression after her struggle with the artist is chilling, until she feels an actual chill in the air that snaps her out of her catatonia. Hitchcock knows how to use her performance and to make it better, utilizing some fresh and innovative techniques, like her walk home. People on the sidewalk travel through her like ghosts, or is she traveling through them? 

Famously, this is Hitchcock’s first talkie, but Ondra’s voice did not translate well enough, so another actress spoke her lines off-screen while Ondra mouthed the words. Miraculously, this cumbersome “fix” did not hinder the quality of her performance. If you didn’t know that tidbit (I didn’t), you’d never suspect. As Hitchcock was well aware, it’s not what the voice is doing anyway. It’s all in the face. 

Still, he has found a new toy in sound and makes clever use of it wherever he can. Look at the scene in which Alice changes her clothes the following morning. We only hear the sound of a bid chirping endlessly, signaling a bright new day, but really taunting her. We’re not even sure where the bird is, but it’s the loudest thing in her head at the moment. This repeats itself later when Frank has the blackmailer whistling in his ear, almost gleefully taunting him. Perhaps the funniest use of sound comes when a woman comes into the tobacco shop where Alice works and cannot stop talking about the murder in the neighborhood. The word “knife” is constantly punctuated, making Alice increasingly nervous while we in the audience can’t help but laugh.

The film gets categorized predictably as a crime thriller, but comedy also fits the descriptions, not only for the reasons mentioned above, but the dark humor that permeates the whole piece. Hitchcock has fun with a neon sign (“Heart Of A Good Cocktail”) and the painter’s portrait of a maniacal-looking jester that we are forced to look at time and time again is funny every time. Hitchcock's cameo early in the film also remains a delight. 

Then there are the other visual touches that jump out. Another ominous overhead shot of characters descending a staircase, as well as an impressive crane shot before that of Alice and the painter ascending one. Hitchcock also indulges in his love of German expressionism in the painter’s apartment and the way the light hits certain areas. At one point, as the painter walks slowly through his place, the light from the chandelier hits his cheek, with the shadow of the chandelier crossing over his face, making it look like he’s wearing a mask, which in many ways, he is. And of course, the final chase scene, making generous use of the location of the British Museum even if much of it was a brilliant special effect. 

“Blackmail” is a delight from beginning to end and marks a return to form for this young filmmaker eager to make a name for himself, by any means necessary.

Elstree Calling (1930) - 84 min.

Watched on 2/17/26 

Availability: YouTube, transferred to blu-ray

It would be a mistake to consider this Hitchcock’s “follow-up” to “Blackmail,” since he really only made minimal contributions to the piece (which he barely remembered), which is essentially just a music and comedy revue used to promote the studio’s talent roster, though it does have the distinction of being Britain’s first revue movie, just as "Blackmail" was Britain’s first sound picture.

Hitchcock contributed a “thriller” segment that lasts about two minutes and has a silly punchline. The technique is different from that of other directors, who were also made to contribute scenes and who filmed everything else in straight-ahead static shots. There is also an attempt at a “Taming of the Shrew” performance, featuring Anna May Wong, an exercise in absurdist comedy that ends in a pie fight. 

Musical revue films were a dime a dozen in America, so it was only a matter of time before the Brits tried their hand at it. The result, as always, is a mixed bag of song-and-dance numbers, instrumentals, comedy sketches that don’t land and four color sequences. Some of it is delightful, some of it forgettable. 

I happen to be a sucker for weird stuff like this from this particular era of cinema history, though you can keep the Three Eddies, which is three guys in blackface. Their second appearance is decidedly creepy as they attempt a skeleton dance against a black backdrop. Other than that, I found it relatively painless and a breezy excursion. YMMV.

WEEK 8

Juno and the Paycock (1930) - 94 min.

Watched on 2/22/26 

Availability: Alfred Hitchcock 2 Tales of Suspense DVD

One can understand when watching “Juno and the Paycock” why Charlie Chaplin (who is referenced at one point in the film) held out for so long against making a talkie. Everything here appears static and dull, not made with any kind of audience in mind, other than maybe Irish theatergoers who would be better served with an actual live performance. Hitchcock is basically filming a play, which he had done before in the silent era not long before this, but still managed to make the stories move. Here, the audible text wears him down. There’s no joy in it. 

The film takes place mostly in the Boyle apartment, where Juno (Sara Allgood) and her husband, Jack (the “paycock,” played by Edward Chapman), live day by day, trying to survive on his earrings, all while the IRA carries out their campaign of violence, with everyday citizens getting caught in the crossfire. The Boyle family get word they will soon inherit $2,000 from a dead relative, which briefly brightens their spirits, but this being an Irish tale of woe, it’s only a matter of time before that money becomes more of a burden than a blessing. To make matters worse, their daughter, Mary (Kathleen O’Regan), is pregnant, because of course she is. 

After the sheer inventiveness on display in “Blackmail,” both with sound and visuals, we keep waiting for Hitchcock to inject some of his personality into this thing and it never happens, save for an occasional dolly shot or off-camera gunfire punctuating the tragedy that has befallen this family. There are a few mildly humorous moments in the first third of the film, but they're hardly memorable. Only Allgood’s performance remains the film’s saving grace, but it’s being served by a director who clearly has no interest in any of this. 

It doesn’t help that the DVD I watched (“Two tales of suspense,” which also has “Rich and Strange”) had a piss-poor transfer with no subtitles option. The most skip-able Hitchcock movie I’ve watched so far on this year-long journey through his works. 

And remember, I’ve seen “Elstree Calling.”