My 2024 Watchlist Obsession!

I'm a huge fan of Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors. Everything about it - the experimental visuals, the folk music, the customs of the village, the frenetic camerawork - it's all amazing. Speaking of which, I still need to revisit The Color of Pomegranates.

The first thing I did when considering Leave Her to Heaven was pick up Danny Peary's book Alternate Oscars, because I thought Gene Tierney really had a chance of nabbing his pick for 1945. Alas it wasn't to be - but nevertheless, this was one of the more interesting turns I've seen considering that her character in this, Ellen Berent, isn't some batty madwoman running around with wild ideas in her head. She's just really intense, and in the end her jealousy has her commit a few crimes that earns her 'monster' status. For that, her startling icy blue eyes might be one of the reasons this film simply had to be shot in Technicolor (so interesting that during her big murder scene she's wearing sunglasses - the only time in the film she appears to be dead cold.) Ellen's sister, Ruth (Jeanne Crain), describes her as someone who "loves too much" (a polite way of calling someone a bunny boiler these days), and while there's no excuse for murder and the other crimes she commits, the film often sets events up in a manner where she does have genuine reasons to feel hurt and aggrieved. Leave Her to Heaven has a real complexity to it.

Ellen falls in love with Richard Harland (Cornel Wilde) when they 'meet cute' during a train journey. She happens to be reading one of his novels, and his remarkable resemblance to her father gets us off to an early start understanding that her obsessiveness was once directed at this paternal figure. We see her scatter his ashes in one scene, looking like a figure from Greek mythology on her steed - urn placed at her side. I've heard that there are many references to that kind of folklore in Leave Her to Heaven - one thing I don't think I'd have figured out on my own is the fact that this is considered film noir. I won't even get started on the many differences this has with your typical noir outing. The colour is dazzling - I love the old Technicolor films, and the vibrant way yellows and reds glow with such soft intensity. Whatever reasons there are for calling this noir - it's not how the movie looks that swings it. (The film won a Best Color Cinematography Oscar for Leon Shamroy, and although the art direction is worthy of making a special note of, it was only nominated in that category, Frenchman's Creek taking away the prize there.) I think the movie is stunning in a visual sense.

Adding to the film in my eyes is the fact that a little bit of courtroom drama is added to the mix - and here the prosecuting attorney is Ellen's former fiancé Russell Quinton (Vincent Price). I like Vincent Price, so that kind of doubles the enjoyment - even if he's a little shrill when pushing points home while questioning his witnesses. I'll forget him, and Wilde, and Crain eventually however - this is Tierney's film performance-wise, and a high point for veteran director John M. Stahl. My expectations were that Tierney's character would be more unhinged, and disconnected from reality - but the truth is that a sociopath needn't be someone who shows outward signs of being mentally unwell. Sometimes a sociopath also has grievances which are genuine, and sometimes they are hard done by. It doesn't excuse what they do, and it doesn't mean they're any less monstrous - but sometimes you need to acknowledge everyone's actions. In the end though, whenever I think of Leave Her to Heaven, I'll immediately think of that one scene were Tierney sits in her boat on the lake with those sunglasses on - cold, calculating, murderous, jealous, conniving and intense. By the end we're dead against Ellen, but when I look back at this movie as a whole, there's a sadness to her, and I do feel some sympathy for the monster here.

Glad to catch this one - Criterion #1020. Twentieth Century-Fox's highest-grossing film of the decade. Nominated for the Grand International Award at the Venice Film Festival.




Thank you very much to whomever inspired me to watch Leave Her to Heaven.

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For the most part, as each item on my watchlist crops up I have absolutely no memory of putting it on the list, and only a general idea of what each film is. Getting up to The Most Hated Man on the Internet, it wasn't until I went to watch it that I discovered it was a limited series. Luckily, it only stretches out to 163-minutes - so I can treat it like a feature documentary, but still, this doesn't feel like a bona fide entry. The subject is Hunter Moore, his revenge porn website www.isanyoneup.com, and how he was brought down by a concerned mother, a dedicated journalist, an anti-bully activist and the FBI. There was a time when Moore appeared to be untouchable - another beneficiary of "I can't control what users post on my site" deniability. But when Charlotte Laws (the concerned mother of the story) discovered that many of the girls being exploited on the site had had their devices hacked, it opened the door for criminal charges. If it could be proved that Hunter Moore had actually been a part of illegally gaining access to people's private material, he'd suddenly find himself looking at prison time.

As far as entitled, chauvinistic, narcissistic, sociopathic douchebags go, you can't get any more of a villain for your documentary than Hunter. He's a special breed who crawled out of an emo/screamo bro culture which celebrated misogyny, and his typical response to the ruined lives and pain he caused was "LOL". As the media started picking up on the phenomenon of his website he started to become something of a celebrity, appearing on shows such as Anderson Cooper, brushing off complaints about what he was doing. The Netflix documentary begins, however, with the moment Charlotte Laws' daughter Kayla discovered there were nude pictures of her online - pictures she'd never shared with anyone. The quest to get those pictures taken down led to the beginning of a crusade for Charlotte, so as Hunter became more and more famous, the infuriated people who wanted to take him down were beginning to formulate their plans. We get interviews with all of these people, but Hunter Moore himself refused to be a part of the documentary, despite initially agreeing to be on it. Jail was only a small fraction of the blowback this young man was about to experience - especially after the group 'Anonymous' took this issue up as a crusade.

As it turns out, Hunter Moore was living with his parents - and by all appearances seemed to be spending the money he was earning on lavish parties, drugs, and limos. We learn about what that side of his life was like by listening to the various investigative journalists who spent time with him while getting a story. His whole "ruining lives is so much fun" attitude gave him a dedicated, if twisted, fanbase - but anyone watching would be able to tell that this was unsustainable. The story is a typical 'rise and fall' kind of narrative where the protagonist becomes more and more of a risk taker, and gives those who oppose him more and more impetus to stop him. In the end, his address was leaked, his accounts hacked, his money stolen and his life ruined - and that's all before the FBI finally charged him and dragged him off to prison. He didn't get a really lengthy sentence, but he was barred from social media - not that his power hadn't already waned to the point where his usual boisterous loudmouth self had fallen completely silent. He wanted fame and adoration, but had found infamy and hatred a much greater force. In the end though, his very existence depresses me.

What a smile. The foolish, clumsy and ignorant secret agent that is somehow also super effective is nothing new movie-wise, but Jean Dujardin might be the most fitting man to play the part. Dujardin is obviously quite handsome (which easily differentiates him from the likes of Mike Myers and Rowan Atkinson), and he works with that by taking 'suaveness' to an absolutely absurd level. Doing so allows Nest of Spies to play with homoeroticism a lot, and make for a character who is insulated from ever being aware of just how ignorant and misguided he is. That character is Hubert Bonisseur de La Bath - OSS 117 - originally created by French writer Jean Bruce, and pre-dating James Bond both in written form (the first novel published in 1949) and on the big screen (the first film released in 1956). Michel Hazanavicius has revived the series here as a spoof on both OSS 117 and James Bond - giving this film the feel, in a visual sense, of an old OSS 117 film or early 60s Sean Connery James Bond picture. The most important factor though, is the comedy, and in this first outing that definitely works very well - both in a screenplay sense, and as far as Dujardin's performance is concerned.

The film starts with a black and white prologue set during World War II, which serves to introduce de La Bath's partner and best friend Jack Jefferson (Philippe Lefebvre) - who aids OSS 117 with stealing secret V2 plans from the Nazis. Years later, de La Bath is deployed to Cairo after being sent notice of Jack's murder, and there he meets his contact Larmina (Bérénice Bejo) and given the cover of being a chicken wholesaler - of which much fun results. At one stage, de La Bath and an enemy fight by throwing live chickens at each other, and de La Bath gets endless amusement from turning the light in the hen storage shed on and off, silencing and awakening the chickens every time he's near the switch. The story, which evolves from trying to find out how and why Jack Jefferson died to the selling of an arms cache, and the various Russians, Nazis and Egyptian revolutionaries who are after it, lacks a little focus. You can forgive the movie that though, because the only reason there is a story is to showcase the various comedic set-pieces and expose just how ignorant OSS 117 is, along with his superior colonial attitude, political incorrectness and chauvinism. He is particularly good in a fight however, as well as the bedroom, if Princess Al-Tarouk (Aure Atika) is anything to go by.

When this film started pretty much laugh-free I thought I might be in for a long 100 or so minutes, but the wobbly takeoff soon gave way to a wonderful comedic performance from Dujardin, and no end of brilliantly funny lines and situations. He manages to both look the part of a secret agent and a buffoon at the same time, mainly due to an exaggerated air of impudence and brashness. The rest of the characters all play their roles completely straight. I loved the way the cinematography, music and art direction (with the help of such devices as rear-screen projection, and night scenes being shot during the day) gave this an exact look of a 1960s spy film. The misogyny and homoeroticism of the early Bond films are given a thorough working over in this spoof, as is the sense of colonial superiority many of those films projected. I know this came along at a time when these spy spoofs had run their course a little bit, but I can't deny it's wit and clever sense of humour. I also can't deny the great Jean Dujardin, who carries much of the load here and does such a great job. I'm glad I got to see this - it was right up my alley.

Glad to catch this one - it won the Tokyo Grand Prix as best film at the Tokyo International Film Festival and Golden Space Needle as the most popular at the Seattle International Film Festival.




Thank you very much to whomever inspired me to watch OSS 117: Cairo, Nest of Spies.

This was a definite change of pace for me - and an alternate reality. The time period in general, art direction, acting style and direction of a 1950s Alfred Hitchcock film is it's whole distinct reality to become acclimatized to. Also, I'm so very surprised that I've not even seen a smidge of this film before - in all my life I've never bumped into a scene on television, or caught a moment or two on a retrospective documentary. The only thing I knew about The Trouble With Harry was that it had something to do with a body - I didn't even know the film was a comedy. I know Edmund Gwenn from Miracle on 34th Street, but John Forsythe I'm less familiar with. Mildred Natwick has an eminently recognisable face - but she's not as placeable as the legendary Shirley MacLaine, who made her film debut in this winsome black pantomime. All four play characters who think they may have had something to do with the death of Harry Worp, whose corpse is discovered out on the hillside overlooking the town of Highwater, Vermont. This uncertainty leads to Harry being buried and then disinterred multiple times over the course of the next 24 hours.

Although comedies in general aren't very 'Alfred Hitchcock' kind of fare, the subject of a troublesome corpse definitely is something that would bring Hitchcock to mind. This is based on a Jack Trevor novel, and the screenplay was written by John Michael Hayes - so I'm not sure who gets credit if this or that part makes me laugh. It might be something clever thought up by one of the writers, improvisation from an actor, or suggestion from Hitch, who I'm sure had a great sense of humour. I found the most mirth in the unexpected sexual innuendos sprinkled throughout - which was daring, I thought, for the 1950s. At one stage, character Sam Marlowe (Forsythe), an artist, lets it known he has an urge to paint single mother Jennifer Rogers (MacLaine) naked - which was apparently approaching/crossing a boundary at that time. And yes, continually burying and digging up a corpse due to a hopeless indecision over whether a crime has been committed is amusing. There's a matter-of-factness to the characters who live in Highwater, and their willingness to mess around with this dead body all day is what keeps that comedic pitch raised for the duration of The Trouble With Harry's running time.

The Trouble With Harry was a pleasant enough film - a little dated, but so very positive, kind-hearted in it's manner and peaceful despite it's strange subject matter. The locations look like paintings, despite the fact that a production location error meant that the bare trees had to have their leaves glued to them - proving that we are the strangest species on this planet. It all looks very nice indeed - and that hilltop in Vermont would be a choice place to die if you could get to choose. I wouldn't say no to watching this film again one day - Hitch got the absolute most out of all his performers, both old and young, and I thought it extra sweet that there was a romance in this film which involved older people. The only problem I have with this movie is when I compare it to other Hitchcock films - it feels so much less weighty that the comedy would have had to have been absolutely and unforgettably hilarious for it to match those in stature. It's funny, this - I really thought so, but overall it's not one of his truly great works. Not in my eyes. Still, it was very worth watching - a playful, colourful creation which is very sweet and charming that just happens to revolve around a dead body.

Glad to catch this one - Shirley MacLaine ended up winning a Most Promising Newcomer Golden Globe for her performance in did - very prescient indeed.




Thank you very much to whomever inspired me to watch The Trouble With Harry.

I liked The Trouble With Harry just fine but you're right about it being so dissimilar to Hitchcock's usual works. And I'm glad you mentioned the art direction. The look of the film is almost burnished. Like what a picture postcard of Vermont would look like. You're also right about it not being one of Hitchcock's heavyweight projects but for what it is it's actually quite enjoyable. It put me in mind of his last film Family Plot. And I don't know if you've ever heard of Leave it to Beaver but the little kid who first found the body was Jerry Mathers.

Leave it to Beaver comes up so often in American pop culture that all Australians have heard about it and know what it is, but I don't think it was ever aired down here. Plenty of U.S. series have however.

Another huge month - I never know when a run of absolute classics are about to hit, and often they come in groups. During April I watched and reviewed another 28 films, which makes the recounted and rechecked total so far 121 movies from my watchlist. That's absolutely crazy. I've kept up a rigorous pace - and I don't know what the future will bring, but I'm committed to going as hard as I can until December 31st. Doing this has also increased my movie knowledge no end, and had me watching a greater proportion of good films (but has created a backlog of non-watchlist stuff, some of which would obviously be more middling - but why bother with that when this is so much more fun?)


All in all a very good month - I'm a third of the way through the year, and I've already watched more great films than I would during an average 12 months. It's been a lot of fun, and created havoc in my mind when it comes to 'favourite' or 'best' film considerations.

Every so often an actor or actress will shake the ground beneath your feet, and I have to say that Maggie Smith, at 35, held in her hand a role she took full advantage of to do that. While watching her cause the earth to tremble as the titular Jean Brodie in this film, I shuffled over to the IMDb, thinking "Gee, she deserved an Oscar nomination for this..." I needn't have worried. She won Best Actress - so I went back to the film well satisfied that justice was served in this instance. Jean Brodie, who had evolved from the pages of Muriel Spark's novel to the stage and now the screen, teaches at an all-girls school in Edinburgh. She believes in a kind of 'all-encompassing' education - about life, love, politics etc - not just the curriculum she's meant to stick to. It's 1932, and red flags start to appear for me personally when she starts espousing the merits of fascism and lionizing Benito Mussolini and Franco - frankly, something that makes everything she says suspect. Her love life is an extraordinarily messy tangle, with a love shared with married painter Teddy Lloyd (Robert Stephens), and a bed shared with choirmaster Gordon Lowther (Gordon Jackson).

Brodie teaches her girls with such unrestrained, operatic pretentiousness and snobbery that she could be seen as an easy target of ridicule, but she's a powerful manipulator. She forms a tight bond with a group of students she calls the "Brodie Set", a member of whom, Jenny (Diane Grayson), she prepares to maneuver into a possible future relationship with Lloyd - for reasons that are emotionally complex. Lloyd ends up seducing the 17-year-old Sandy (Pamela Franklin) instead, who was meant to be spying on Lloyd and Jenny for Brodie. It's a volatile mix, with the headmistress Miss Mackay (Celia Johnson) at the school desperate to get rid of the rogue Miss Brodie - but Brodie powerful enough in personality and intelligence to continually thwart her attempts at dismissal. It's a situation much like a powder keg, and the drama which follows allows Maggie Smith to go full force into every emotional extreme, and absolutely captivate the audience. I may also add, it's an audience the character is losing, because of the foolhardy act of persuading one of her students to travel to war-torn Spain to be with her brother, fighting there. Her romantic ideals are dangerous, and it's her impressionable students who face the consequences.

An interesting character study this - and another one where there's a tug between empathy and condemnation. Frankly, a teacher does hold young lives in his or her hand and has every opportunity to abuse the trust we give them - young people are very suggestable and easily influenced, and as such someone with enough charisma can mould youngsters to their design. As Miss Brodie herself says, "Give me a girl at an impressionable age, and she is mine for life." That sounds like a quote from Hitler, frankly, and a very extreme statement. On the other hand, underneath all of the bluster, strictness, knowledge and discipline is a human being - using the belief that she's 'in her prime' to justify her need to play these games with love and life. There's a sadness buried deep down, and I felt a great deal of pity for her. Once you get past the iron façade you start to see more of the real Jean Brodie, and watching The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie is an exercise in being able to appreciate a truly incredible performance movie-wise - probably one of the best I've ever seen. Maggie Smith, I salute you.

Glad to catch this one - played at Cannes in 1969, and was nominated for the Palme d'Or. Apart from a Best Actress Oscar, Maggie Smith also won a BAFTA, and was nominated for a Golden Globe.




Thank you very much to whomever inspired me to watch The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie.

Firstly, a difficult matter to wrestle with - when I noticed that the next film on my watchlist was directed by a guy guilty of numerous instants of sexual misconduct, I was in a quandary. I hate this modern dilemma - whenever I see Harvey Weinstein's name on a movie's opening credits (and it comes up plenty of times) I feel queasy. Not that it impacts my enjoyment of the movie itself. It's easier, because Harvey himself didn't make the movie - when I see something I like I can praise the actor or director. Now Louis C.K., he directed this and plays a small role in it. I don't like the man - not one little bit - but at the same time I think he has an extraordinary talent for comedy. It's times like these that I thank God that Bill Cosby never made one single film that I think is great and love. Cosby was the absolute worst for picking film projects - perhaps the worst in the history of motion pictures - and as such there are no films that have been wrecked by discovering that this beloved comedian was actually a monster behind the scenes. A monster. But does the fact that Louis C.K. didn't go quite as hard at it as Cosby make his sexual misconduct any more acceptable? Has Louis C.K. paid enough for what he did? If he's genuinely contrite and has learned his lesson, should we forgive him? It's a dark shadow that looms, and it was always on my mind while watching Fourth of July.

Although something fundamentally different, Fourth of July reminded me of Dan in Real Life - it's a film where our main character, Jeff (Joe List), feels the need to confront his family during the annual Fourth of July get-together they have for the numerous issues and grievances he feels burdened with. It's an "annual family gathering" movie, of which many have been made. Jeff's family basically have the feel of a MAGA crowd, but Louis C.K. has made damn sure that there's no talk of politics in the movie - and although it can't be avoided altogether, there are no huge culture war hot-button topics argued or pontificated upon. It's a little disingenuous in that sense, but obviously Louis C.K. didn't want to alienate half of his possible audience. So instead the beer flows, and although Jeff is a loved and accepted part of the family, his interactions with them are awkward. Jeff is a pianist, goes to A.A. and although he's neurotic, he's a thoughtful, intelligent guy who is appalled at the way his family often acts - as Neanderthals in his eyes. He tells his therapist (played by Louis C.K. himself) that he's going to confront his parents and family this time around (apparently he's promised to do this many times, and always backed out) - and he does, with surprising results.

Jeff's parents didn't give him enough love and attention growing up, and it's left him with problems during his adulthood. They consider Jeff's pursuit of music a silly dream (he plays jazz in various New York clubs), hate his wife (who Jeff doesn't bring this year) and consider the fact that they fed and clothed him enough. At first Jeff's attempts at confronting them are feeble - but he eventually finds his feet in that respect and lets loose. In the meantime, Louis C.K.'s film is occasionally funny - but the drama takes absolute center stage here, and as such this is attempting to seriously explore the topics regarding this kind of parenthood, being the black sheep of the family, alcoholism as a social disease, openness and honesty. I thought it was good, and impactful - or at least the screenplay gave me enough of a reason to stay invested and interested. Kind of ironic that a Louis C.K. movie would avoid any and all controversy - but it was a better side to err on in this case. When Jeff's grandfather pretty much shows in his facial expressions that he doesn't consider him a man because he doesn't drink or feels uncomfortable peeing off the side of their fishing boat - we're getting at the cultural divide between generations that I would have been interested in seeing more of. As it is I'll say that although it's not a must-see, Fourth of July is by no means a bad movie.

Glad to catch this one - Kyle Smith of The Wall Street Journal lauded the film as "one of the best films of the year", calling it "acutely observed".




Thank you very much to whomever inspired me to watch Fourth of July.

What a face & figure Maggie had, don’t you think.

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I’m here only on Mondays, Wednesdays & Fridays. That’s why I’m here now.

It's a funny thing - I've always only known Maggie as this older "Lady in the Van" legend, and she's imprinted on my mind as such. But she really was a stunning looker!

Céline Sciamma's Portrait of a Lady on Fire was huge, so it was interesting to go back and watch her debut, Water Lilies, which also stars the distinctive actress in the former film, Adèle Haenel. I found it a tough film to watch, because it's the kind of coming of age drama where coming of age is a very brutal, scary and painful process. Marie (Pauline Acquart), Anne (Louise Blachère) and Floriane (Adèle Haenel) are teenage girls, all at a stage where sex is entering the equation more and more. Marie notices Floriane during a synchronized swimming meet, and tries to get close to her by joining up as a beginner. At first Floriane is dismissive of her diminutive hanger-on, and uses her as a decoy so she can go make out with her boyfriend - (she has a reputation that's unearned, so even though people assume she's having sex she's still a virgin.) After a while, when Marie decides she doesn't want to do this anymore, Floriane discovers she's come to like Marie and starts hanging out with her - igniting a relationship that blurs the lines between romantic and platonic. In the meantime, Marie's best friend (who she is now neglecting) is eager to share her first kiss with her crush, François (Warren Jacquin), who is generally looking for sex, and not romance. François eyes both Floriane and Anne as conquests.

I didn't envy the girls in this film, because coming to terms with their own desires while at the same time being pressured by teenage boys didn't look fun. None of them ever looked sure about what they were doing, and that's the way it is - uncharted territory. Floriane walks a very crooked line, flirting with all the boys as if it's her job description, while experiencing real lust and love in the arms of Marie. She welcomes the attentions of both. I don't know if her tangles with guys are meant to make Marie jealous, but in the end it simply does more hurt than good - and I'm constantly on edge because there are numerous times I fear one of these guys is going to take things too far. Her reputation with the other girls in her synchronized swim team is how it is because she always seems to be wrapped around this or that guy - but to Marie she reveals that she's playing a role, and doing what she thinks is expected of her. In the meantime Anne is left to flounder, and learn her own lesson - that there can be sex without love, which often feels like you've been exploited. All three girls are learning, but they're definitely learning the hard way - and I hate to see them go through all of that. Even their emotions have a complexity that is hard to navigate.

Let me just add, because this film is about a synchronized swim team - when synchronized swimming became an Olympic sport my friends and family were rather incredulous, and thought it the most ridiculous sport that could ever have been invented. I've kind of got used to it now (and hell, it's basically water gymnastics - except synchronized.) That part of the film gradually fades out, but seeing the girls train and compete was interesting. One other interesting thing about this film was the fact that we never see any of the girls' parents - not even for one scene. It makes their anxiety-ridden journey through this stage of their lives feel all the more lonely and unguided. Of course, when I was their age I told my parents nothing about my private life - to the point where they didn't even know when I had girlfriends until I was 18 and brought one home with me. Looking back, it feels like I was way, way over-secretive, but that's the funny thing about that age. If I could go back in time I'd be nicer to them than I was from, say, 15 to 19 or so - but I certainly had a good relationship with them into adulthood. For guys, it's so easy - compared to girls, who as usual get the tougher end of the bargain. That's clearly exemplified in Water Lilies.

Glad to catch this one - it won the Louis Delluc Prize for Best First Film at the 2007 Cannes Film Festival, and was was selected for screening in the Un certain regard section there. It was also nominated for 3 César Awards.




Thank you very much to whomever inspired me to watch Water Lilies.

Jean Brodie is a great, great movie.

Also, you made me want to see that Nest of Spies movie, which on the surface, is something I doubt I would have ever even considered watching.

Where do I even start? That's the question with Seconds, which has a lot going on both under the surface and in a straightforward narrative sense. It's a dream-like (or nightmarish) meld of science fiction and psychological horror that takes an average, dull bank manager, Arthur Hamilton (John Randolph), and, with the help of a secretive, ominous institution called the 'Company' gives him a new life by faking his death and reconstructing his facial features. A painful process in many ways - both physically and psychologically. Hamilton becomes Antiochus Wilson (Rock Hudson) - an artist with a flash pad in Malibu, California. Soon he's hooking up with the free-spirited Nora Marcus (Salome Jens), but the process is taking a toll on him, and when he starts to crack what follows is both a mix of great self-awareness and terrifying horror - when you get a second chance at life, you'd best take it and not go for a third! John Frankenheimer was on a hot streak when he made this film, coming hot on the heels of the other two films which make up his 'paranoia trilogy' - The Manchurian Candidate and Seven Days in May.

One of the most unusual things about Arthur Hamilton's journey is that he doesn't ask for what's done to him - he gets instructions, surreptitiously, from an old friend of his he thought was dead. Those instructions leads him to the Company, who quickly acquire blackmail material to convince Arthur to go through with the procedure - not that they necessarily need it, as they are persuasive nonetheless. Arthur has attained everything he was taught to covet in life - money, a decent home, marriage and security - but it all feels so empty to him. There is no passion in his life, and no meaning. It's as if he's been sold a lie. In the meantime the Company presses it's sales pitch - and whatever they're selling might be equally without merit, and preying on the fact that we're all obsessed with staying forever young. It's a hard sell this time, but the results are fascinating to watch. An old man in a young body, guided through a younger person's world and trying to adapt. Trying to make sense of it all. The psychological contortions are aided visually by Oscar-nominated cinematography from James Wong Howe - a massive plus as far as this film is concerned. Rock Hudson delivers what may be his greatest ever performance.

Despite it's seeming obscurity, it appears that Seconds has picked up an ever-growing cult audience over the years. (It's rerelease attracted a big article in The Atlantic.) Park Chan-wook and Bong Joon-ho have named it as one of their favourite films - a freaky, disorientating trip into the deep subconscious that questions identity and our sense of self. It was booed at Cannes, and dismissed when released - and though it might be something of a cliché, I think that people genuinely weren't ready for something like this. It invades the mind, and invites you to speculate on matters about ourselves that are a little disturbing. It reminds me of the fact that by the time we learn how to really live our lives our life is nearly over! I loved how Frankenheimer used old blacklisted actors as the various movers and shakers of the Company, and I loved the absolutely shattering ending to Seconds, which closes the door on a film that's full of sociopolitical comment. It's left a distinctly eerie impression on me - and I'd reckon that means it worked exactly as it was intended to. It asks such pertinent questions of us.

Glad to catch this one - Criterion #667, In Steven Jay Schneider's 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die and was nominated for the Palme d'Or at the 1966 Cannes Film Festival.




Thank you very much to whomever inspired me to watch Seconds.

Seconds is one of my favorites. It's middle third got some criticism during a Hall of Fame, but I'd say it's just as great as what came before. A terrific portrayal of a bizarre escapist fantasy gone wrong

Exactly. Or people know her from Downton & that’s how she’s visualized now.

I suppose you know the guy in the movie was her real husband? They later divorced.