Update: Strangers on a Train (1951)

"I certainly admire people who do things." - Bruno

My second viewing of this film went really well. It was great to see it on the big screen in a proper theatre with good friends close by. I managed to successfuly maintain a steady breathing pattern, most noticeably through the party scene. However, there were moments in which I felt that my heart would leap out of my chest. This film is thrilling and creepy on a psychological level and it didn't lose much of its potency the second time around.

It's funny the things you forget about a film over time. My memory bank seems to have deleted (or just plain neglected) some things from my first viewing. The opening sequence with the camera following two different pairs of shoes (Bruno's flashy ones and Guy's practical ones) and the really cool shot of the murder shot through the reflection of the lense of a pair of glasses were both welcome surprises. I quite enjoyed the creepiness the infamous tennis court scene where Bruno's gaze is firmly fixed on Guy while everyone else in the stands follows the ball back and forth. And I had forgotten how thrilling the musical carousel-gone-awry scene was! I believe at one point during that scene my jaw dropped and stayed dropped for a considerable amount of time.

I am glad that now I can be thrilled, and not emotionally traumatized, by this film. I don't know if I will be able to say the same for The Night of the Hunter (1955), but we'll see.

My Prized Posession

My well-loved copy of the Leonard Maltin's Classic Movie Guide (ISBN-13: 978-0-4522-8620-7) is a familiar sight in my apartment. Unlike most books in my personal library, it is not shelved amongst other tomes. It is often found in a convenient spot; on the sofa, next to my computer, near the TV or on the coffee table. Convenience is key and I take supreme pleasure in thumbing through its pages and poring over the lenthy list of films referenced within. And it is, at all times, accompanied by a red felt pen.

This book is very much a part of my film-viewing experience. With my red pen in hand, I document films seen by drawing a star next to a particular selection. The back of the book boasts an index of stars and directors with their films listed below their respective names. I always make sure to underline which of their films I've seen to get a better idea of how familiar I am with their work. This all might seem quite mundane and boring. However, watching films is rarely a physical, tangible experience. It is all in the mind. Being able to connect something physical to the mental is supremely reassuring to me which is why this methodical documentation enhances the experience to me.

I highly recommend this guide for any of you out there who are classic film fans. It boasts an impressive list of films and enough of a synopsis of each film to either pique the interest (or serve as a refresher). However, this book is not without some flaws. Obscure silents or lesser-known '30s comedies are noticeably missing [much to my dismay I couldn't find Lady of the Night (1925) or There's Always a Woman (1938) ]. Also, the cut-off is 1960, so I'm at a loss to document my favorite '60s films, of which I have many. And because the book was published in 2005 and Plume has no immediate plans to update its contents, listed DVD availability is very out-of-date.

Yet this guide, even with its flaws, is my ultimate classic movie companion and one of my most prized posessions.

Strangers on a Train (1951)

The time has come for me to come to terms with this movie. My first viewing happened during a very difficult time in my life, in which I was struggling with the impending deaths of two loved ones. I was emotionally raw and exposed to the full brunt of anything even remotely unsettling. In hindsight, I should have stayed away from films such as this, but with my other experiences with pre-Psycho Hitchcock, I probably thought I was relatively safe with this film. Boy, was I wrong.

I must give kudos to the great Alfred Hitchcock for creating a film that was truly scary indeed. I remember it was a sunny afternoon, on a seemingly innocent day, when I popped the DVD of this film into the player. As engrossing as Hitchcock films often are, I was swept into the story immediately. Then, sometime into the film, came the scene that harshly struck the chord that twanged and sent disonant reverberations right through me.

It was the party scene with Robert Walker as Bruno, a man who had trapped Guy, played by Farley Granger, into a sordid deal; a murder for a murder. With a nervous Guy in the background, Bruno carried on a conversatin with two older ladies about murder and how one would successfully suffocate another person. Bruno, to my utter dismay, proceeds to demonstrate the correct technique one of the ladies' throats. He tightens his grip on her windpipe, then freezes when he sees Barbara, played by Hitchock's daughter Patricia, in the background. All the while staring at her, he is still choking the little old lady. He cannot bring himself to let go and has to be pulled off of her.

At that moment, I started to hyperventilate. I could not catch my breath. I stopped the movie immediately and ran out of the room gasping for air. I must have been so terrified during the scene that I had just stopped breathing altogether, as though Bruno was choking me! Quite traumatized by the experience, it took me a full week before I could watch the remaining length of the movie (careful, of course, to avoid the scene that, literally, took my breath away).

I am a firm believer that what you get from a film depends on what point you are in your life when you see it. Right now, I'm in a good place and feel that I could watch it again. So on Monday, I will watch Strangers on a Train (1951), properly, in an actual theatre, in the dark and I won't be scared.

I hope...

Next Stop: The Night of the Hunter (1955)