My Year With Hitchcock: September

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. 

WEEK 36

Strangers On A Train (1951) - 101 min.

Watched on 9/7/2026

Availability: DVD from Chicago Public Library

“Hey, remember that cool shit we did with that train in whatever that thing was called that had the number seventeen in the title? I don’t remember the film either, but I do remember we had a kick-ass train sequence in it. Let’s do that again. Been too long. Except this time, let’s do an out-of-control carousel!” I like to think this was where Hitchcock started with getting “Strangers On A Train” together. I know it didn’t go down like that, but I like to think it did.

The film was a grand return to form since “Notorious” and showcases many iconic Hitchcock moments in a film that truly earns them. Bruno‘s (Robert Walker) initial proposition to Guy (Farley Granger, returning to similar territory from “Rope”) aboard the train about swapping murders; Bruno’s stalking of Miriam (Casey Rogers) through the carnival and the popping of the boy’s balloon; The strangulation as seen reflected on Miriam’s glasses; The rapid cutting during the tennis tournament and intercutting with Bruno trying to get the lighter back to the scene of the crime; the merry-go-round… it’s all so brilliantly classic Hitchcock.

I’ve mentioned the carousel twice, but you never get the feeling the film exists for that sequence alone. Hitchcock explores the dual nature of his two leads as a singular person. They each have a half that the other represents, but Bruno always has the upper hand, because he acts first. Casting Granger again in the role of the helpless, more innocent one who has to watch the devil on his shoulder act out a horrific deed makes sense, but here Guy gets to correct what Phillip in “Rope” could not. As Bruno, Walker' s suave and controlling Bruno reveals more than an obsession for Guy, but also an unlocking of something dangerous in his psyche, a discovery of himself as a cold-blooded killer, learning to live with it and not being able to control it.

And then you get Patricia Hitchcock (as little sister Barbara), a true crime obsessive constantly throwing out reasons for Guy to be nervous about this unfortunate predicament. While Bruno continues the conversations heard in “Shadow Of A Doubt” about committing the perfect murder as well as reiterating Brandon’s credo in “Rope” that “some people are better off dead,” Barbara obsesses over how Guy has too many holes in his story that the police will seize upon. She reminds me of the “KNIFE!” woman in “Blackmail.” Even with these echoes (and I also couldn’t help but think of “The Lodger” during parts of it), “Strangers On A Train” never comes off as lazy, but as a fun reminder of what he did best before making it.

WEEK 37

I Confess (1953) - 95 min.

Watched on 9/13/2026

Availability: Warner Archive blu-ray set

I have not yet read up on the genesis of this film, nor any analysis of it, nor any documentaries about it (I just finished watching it an hour ago), but it doesn’t seem like a huge leap to conclude that Hitchcock wanted to (putting it politely) critique the Catholic church, which had been a source of misery for him when growing up. While the character of Father Michael Logan (Montgomery Clift) is the one we’re meant to sympathize with, he also acts as the figurehead of the church, who, because of an oath of silence when it comes to confessions, acts complicit in all manner of crime, even murder.

I guess we were going to get here eventually and Hitch’s source material provides enough ingredients for an otherwise standard courtroom thriller for him to make this statement without anyone getting too hot and bothered. Hitchcock himself is the first person we see in the film as we observe several shots of the streets of Quebec, many with signs that simply say “DIRECTION” on them. A visual pun, of course, but it’s also the director reminding us of who made the film and you can direct all your complaints about it to him, though not directly.

There is a good deal to enjoy in “I Confess" if you were to watch it as a one-off and not part of a year-long Hitchcock binge. It does have an attractive cast, all of whom fit their roles nicely, though I couldn't help but imagine a modern-day production of it and seeing Liev Schreiber in the role of Pierre (Roger Dann). The score, always ominous throughout many scenes, helps the film from becoming an overly talky theater piece and makes it feel more like a cinematic thriller. And Hitch loves those dutch angles, with one to end them all, that of Ann Baxter descending a staircase to meet Clift at the bottom, as if she's floating from the heavens toward him.

There comes a point, though, where “I Confess” stops being truly compelling and becomes formulaic. Courtroom-based third acts are par for the course at this point in the Hitchcock milieu and always a bit of a disappointment when it becomes apparent we’re going to be here a while, especially when we know most, if not all, of the answers. The plot hinges on Father Logan’s oath of silence, but we know darn well he won’t break it in a courtroom. That would be too easy. And having another showdown in a performance venue, even an empty one, feels too rote.

Still, at 94 minutes, it’s not asking much. Cinematographer Robert Burks shoots the hell out of it and demonstrates he’s as big a fan of German Expressionism as his director. A good set-up, some great shots, a good cast and a director wanting to have a go at the church… not one of his best, but not totally dismissible either.

WEEK 38

Dial M For Murder (1954) - 105 min.

Watched on 9/19/2026 

Availability: Warner Archive blu-ray set

So, you’re watching all of Hitchcock's films in a row, all in the order in which they were made. You get to “Rope” knowing it’s his first color film and you come away from it thinking, “gee, it’s kinda visually flat for a technicolor film and from a maestro no less.” You watch “Under Capricorn” and think, “better, but not particularly outstanding. Or maybe that’s just the story and characters rubbing off on everything else.” You get to “Dial M For Murder” and think, “Hitchcock just discovered the color red for the first time and he is LOVING it!”

When it comes to visual flair, though, the use of technicolor is not the stand-out reason for watching the film. Hitchcock made his only 3-D picture with “Dial M,” but it isn’t until around the 42-minute mark that we see it really being used. It’s one of two times. The rest of the film is talky. Almost all talky. There is a dream sequence where 3-D could have added some truly nifty effects and maybe Hitch could have used that experience working with Dali to really soup up the sequence. Unfortunately, it falls a little flat. 

Okay, so Hitchcock didn’t make a great 3-D movie. That’s hardly a crime. The film itself probably works better without it and more as a straightforward investigative crime movie about another husband who wants to have his wife killed. “Dial M” has obvious echoes of “Stranger On A Train” and “Rope” (which would have been just as marvelous a film to see in 3D as this one). The first scene between Ray Malland and Anthony Dawson has echoes of many scenes between Fraley Granger and Robert Walker in “Strangers.” There’s also more tennis talk, missing house keys that provide suspense, as well as “how to plot the perfect murder.”

Nevertheless, “Dial M” is a fun little suspense film that makes the most of its confined settings and pedestrian plot. Robert Cummings might be a big nothing in the love triangle, but it doesn’t seem to matter. We’re mainly watching Malland and Grace Kelly run this show, as well as John Williams as the Inspector. It’s a cast worth watching and with a director slowly expanding his color palette.

WEEK 39

Rear Window (1954) - 112 min.

Watched on 9/26/2026

Availability: Universal Hitchcock blu-ray set (4K)

I will always remember taking a course at Columbia College in Chicago called Visual Analysis, where we looked at two movies and dissected them over the course of a whole semester. The two films for this particular semester were ‘Blue Velvet” and “Rear Window,” two movies that have a lot in common. Both of them are about voyeurism (both for the main character and the audience) and both come from filmmakers who are working at the peak of their powers as visual storytellers.

We started by watching the film in its entirety, just to watch it. Then, every week, we went back and watched a 15 minute chunk with the sound turned off. Then we’d go through it visually, shot for shot. Anyone could posit an idea about what they saw in the shot, no matter how outlandish. There was no such thing as “a bit of a stretch” when it came to analysis of a camera angle, symbolism, use of color, overall intent. If David Lynch put a picture of a duck in the background of a shot, well, that’s a half-hour right there of debate and dissection. I know Roger Ebert has also utilized films for this purpose, including “Citizen Kane,” “Casablanca” and “Dark City.”

“Rear Window” is a perfect film for this format. Try it. Go and watch the first fifteen minutes of “Rear Window” with the sound down and just look at how easy it is to piece the story together, as well as establishing James Stewart’s character, his predicament and how he got that way. The word “masterclass” gets used to describe these techniques. They get taught in classes for a reason. You can do the same with “Blue Velvet.” In the first fifteen minutes, you're in. You got everything you need to know without having to have heard a word.

Still, both films have unique soundscapes that add to the experience, so I don’t want this to sound like sound has no value. It absolutely does and both films could also be taught to aspiring filmmakers on how to use sound. “Rear Window” has very little score, outside of the playful intro and outro. The film relies heavily on the sound of the neighborhood to provide all the atmosphere. Life goes on, even when murder is possibly being committed right under everyone’s noses, drawing us further in with relatable characters in a familiar setting.

And of course, the screenplay has all the right beats, unique interplay and purpose with each new character that comes into the apartment, exposition without sounding labored, tension that comes about organically and, of course, comic relief. Even if it feels like it’s based on a play (it wasn’t), Hitchcock is always showing us something on the screen that is just as important as what is being said.

In short, “Rear Window” has it all and it could be taught through a whole semester’s worth of film study classes and likely has been. Its delights never fail upon repeat viewings.