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You deep-thinking types will probably say Vertigo. How could we not love Vertigo when its hero is a raving neurotic? As the raving neurotic: Jimmy Stewart—icon of decency and old-fashioned family values. Kim Novak has never looked more beautiful, and neither has the city of San Francisco. For the upteenth time here’s the Chris Marker essay on Vertigo.

Frames from Film Quarterly

You might say North by Northwest. How could we not love North by Northwest when it stars Cary Grant in one of his finest performances? Cary on a train with mysterious blonde Eva Marie Saint, Cary being chased by a small plane, Cary in a fight right on the faces of Mount Rushmore: happiness. We adore Cary Grant, he is perfect; his imperfections only make him more perfect. Hitchcock remarked that Cary was the only man he’d ever loved; we relate totally, for we look upon George Clooney and are seized by disappointment. Here for the upteenth time is that Pauline Kael essay on Cary Grant. Kael! Grant! We are aplotz.

A portion of 1000 Frames of North by Northwest

There are too many candidates: Psycho—the definition of “twisted”, Rear Window—Grace Kelly is right in Jimmy Stewart’s face and all he wants to see is the neighbor’s apartment, Strangers On A Train—the “hero” is a tennis player competing at the US Open!, Notorious—Don’t drink the milk!!! We have a special affection for The 39 Steps, described at length in The Catcher in the Rye, and Spellbound—Gregory Peck sweating at fork tracks on a tablecloth.

But our favorite Hitchcock, the one we watch on long weekends, is The Lady Vanishes.

It is everything we want a movie to be: light and frothy on the surface, dark and menacing beneath. Ooh there’s a column.

You can watch The Lady Vanishes at the Internet Archive.