Well Then That's No MacGuffin.

I am a little tired today. last night was restless. It was somewhat self inflicted. My mind did heavily fix itself on the seduction of the senses though and I couldn't rest.

In the midst of my sleepless night, I, being a single 29 year old woman, did what any one in my sleepless predicament would do when thinking of that seduction. I thought about Alfred Hitchcock.

It is hard to place your own thoughts at times when watching his films. His body of work is monumental. He was a master of conveying unsettling, breathless cinema. This is one of the things I adore about him the most.

Today we are reluctantly aboard the Hollywood A-list Express where promoted films seem like some kind of 2 hour MTV advert. The actors who play the characters, at times, outway the characters themselves.

In comparison though, 1945, Salvador Dali had designed the Dream Sequence in Spellbound. The film starred Bergman, Peck and Chekhov, but none of those names were ever bigger than the narrative. And that was due to the insistance of Hitchcocks direction and the weight of Hecht and McPhails adaptation. The pyschological effects on the audience outwayed everything. Because the audience mattered. There was a mutual respect. I trust all the writers and directors that I admire to fulfil that admiration with whatever they choose to do not with what I expect of them. That is the basis of suspense, to let the writers and directors do their job.

I have two overwhelming Hitchcock favourites

Subtle scene detailing, perfection in voyeuristic camera angles, the suspense of seemingly normal actions. Hitchcock is a cinematic legend. His work is timeless.

Modern day cinema's access to CGI/Special effects have caused many viewers to depart from these ideals.

Where we are lucky enough to find current writers and directors that rely upon their own creative instincts, we should appreciate them, and allow them to take us where they want us to go.

And to the genius..

Thank you for taking us to where we are...