A great Hitchcock potboiler. Ray Milland is terrific as the unctuously smooth villain Tony Wenders. And Grace Kelly is radiantly beautiful as his wife, Margot, aka the gal in danger.
It’s not one of Hitch’s absolute best. Nor, by a long stretch, one of his weaker as films. Beautifully crafted, and well acted, within the standards of its milieu. It’s just good Saturday or Sunday afternoon/evening fun.
The title is somewhat ironic. Whilst it captures the premise. The plot or premise concocted by Tony has more holes in it than fishnet stockings. Unravelling like a garter whose elastic has gone.
Unlike many Hitchcock (or other crime/murder) movies, the McGuffinal motive murder doesn’t actually happen. In that respect it’s a clever little twist, akin in some ways to how Columbo’s crimes are solved, from the viewer’s perspective, in reverse.
The fascination humans have with the nexus between sex and violence, themes fundamental in Hitchcock’s oeuvre, is cleverly played upon by the publicity materials.
Posters for the film show the attempted murder looking like sex. The man mounts the lady, and she, head back and arm outstretched, might be in the throes of orgasm… le petits morts.
The old big black Bakelite phone – which takes the place of the scissors – is obviously important. And there are some funny special effects in connection with this.
The ‘Columbo connection’ goes deeper… moustachioed detective inspector Herbert pauses at the door, and says ‘there was just one more thing…’
And the ending is sooo Columbo. They won’t get their man unless he indicts himself. Hoist by his own petard.
The quality of Hitchcock’s work is, for the most part, uniformly high. So, whilst he’s made even better films, this remains excellent.