Suspicion

NR	Rottentomatoes.com Rating:100%	1941
(Nothing objectionable)	Picky Flicks Quote: "The beauty of it is that it starts off light and charming, and darkens so gradually you won't even notice it shift from light romance into a psychological thriller." -Brian Webster, Apollo Guide	RUNTIME: 99 min.
Visit:www.screenit.com for complete details		Movie Mood:Suspicious

Although much-maligned for a weak ending (which was, reportedly, imposed upon Hitchcock by studio big-wigs), Alfred Hitchcock’s Suspicion is still a wonderful example of the director’s ability to twist the audience’s expectations until we’re not sure what we think anymore. It also benefits from fantastic star turns from its principals, Cary Grant and Joan Fontaine. So, if 98% of a movie is riveting, can it be undone by a limp 2% fizzle of a finale? I’ll leave that your good judgment.

Lina and Johnnie are polar opposites. She’s a prim daddy’s girl who stands to inherit a sizeable fortune from her stern father, General McLaidlaw (very subtle name, indeed), and he’s a devil-may-care ladies’ man without a cent to his name. After a meet-not-so-cute on a train during which he (all but) robs her of a stamp to use it as “legal tender” to help pay for a fare upgrade, Lina never expects to see Johnnie again. And good riddance. Or so she thinks until he come waltzing back into her life (and home) one day, accompanied by the neighborhood flirts and talking a mile a minute. He’s hardly Lina’s type, but somehow he convinces her to accompany them to church and then to ditch church in favor of a walk. She pretends to be annoyed but is drawn to his particular brand of brash, yet charming, arrogance.

And when he compliments her ucipital mapilary…well, she just melts like butter (once he explains that he means the hollow of her lovely throat, that is). In a matter of weeks, they’ve eloped, leaving Lina’s disapproving parents to harrumph alone in their cavernous mansion. Of course, the newlyweds’ digs aren’t anything to sneeze at either. They come fully and stylishly furnished, complete with maid and gardens. Lina can hardly believe her good luck, until Johnnie wonders whether she just might have an extra 1,000 pounds on hand to pay this month’s expenses. Lina, whose allowance is strictly limited to five hundred a year, is flabbergasted. “Why darling, are you broke?” His reply? “I was born broke.” Of course, the happy-go-lucky smile on his face belies the reality of his words: they will never never be able to afford their current lifestyle unless he finds a highly lucrative position and quickly.

Not surprisingly, Johnnie is allergic to work, having happily mooched off his various friends and mistresses for the entirety of his adult life, but it just so happens that a generous cousin has offered him a position as the manager of his estate, a job that Johnnie reluctantly accepts when it becomes clear that the extent of General McLaidlaw’s wedding gifts will be a pair of “museum-worthy” antique chairs.

Up to this point in the film, Cary Grant has done what he does best: talk fast, flash his dimples and pearly whites, and steal kisses. Fontaine, for her part, does an excellent job of portraying a supremely naïve character who still posesseses a great deal more natural practicality than her flighty, if more experienced, husband. But when, Beaky, a dear old friend of Johnnie’s shows up to explain that, while friendly, Johnnie is anything but truthful, Lina’s demeanor begins to change.

As she catches her husband in lie and after lie—about how those priceless chairs somehow managed to disappear, about abandoning his horserace betting habit, about where he managed to procure the 2,000 pounds that paid for her new necklace and fur coat—her wide-eyed expression slowly transforms into one of wounded, well, suspicion. Johnnie is changing too. His face is a great deal more sober these days, and his usual cheerfulness seems forced. In both cases, the changes are subtle, but they go a long way towards making Lina’s eventual fears that her husband is capable of a great deal more than double-talk—that he is, in fact, capable of murder—plausible.

Wait, murder?

Johnnie, a killer?

Dishonest and careless, yes. But lethal? Impossible. And yet, as detail after small detail adds up, Lina can no longer deny the possibility that her husband has already killed someone and is planning to kill someone else. Namely her. So, is she right? Suspicion keeps us guessing until the very end, presenting us with scene after scene that could be interpreted as innocent or rife with malice.

Alas, the final scene is so abrupt that I had to watch it twice to make certain that I understood how it all turned out. Sad to say, I still wasn’t sure. Which brings me back to my original question. Does a bad ending ruin an entire movie? As I said, that will, no doubt, depend on the viewer, but for me it was a minor annoyance tacked onto an otherwise fascinating, entertaining, and extremely well-acted film.

Compared to most films’ ratios of 98% odious to 2% bearable (including last weekend’s regrettable and aptly named Despicable Me), I’d call that very high praise, indeed.

Until next Wednesday, stay picky! Your mind will thank you later.