Alfred Hitchcock was a master at placing innocent, identifiable people into extraordinary, harrowing circumstances.
One of the director's best examples is MGM's "North by Northwest", which hits its 60th anniversary release date (per its Chicago premiere) on July 1.
"North by Northwest" is a tale of mistaken identity, where Cary Grant's Roger Thornhill, a New York businessman cut from the "Mad Men" cloth, is framed for murder in an enemy-agent attempt to smuggle some top-secret microfilm from the United States.
The content is pulpy and sweeping, featuring on-the-run, Bondian intrigue and piles of paranoia.
To stir these ingredients, Ernest "Sabrina" Lehman's script streams with cunning calculation: an astute match for Hitch's jolting build-ups. The Mount Rushmore finale is stupendous and nail-biting; the moments with Grant and Eva Marie Saint's Eve Kendall are intelligent and steamy. (Saint is an excellent example of Hitch's proverbial icy blonde, but her character also applies a welcoming warmth that fills several, important interludes.)
The rest of the cast is as adroit, with Jessie Royce Landis as Thornhill's supportive but doubtful mom; James Mason as the wily Phillip Vandamm; Martin Landau as his stony henchman, Leonard; and Leo G. Carroll as the helpful, agency-with-no-name Professor. I'm also fond of Malcolm "I Was a Teenage Werewolf" Atterbury's cameo as the "crossroads man", whose enigmatic appearance proves the perfect prelude to one of cinema's most memorable moments.
To add to the production's high caliber, Bernard Herrmann's score is pure, agitated grandeur, as are Saul Bass' ominous, opening graphics. Robert Burk's photography is rich and refined, creating one of Hitch's best looking efforts.
In all aspects, "North by Northwest" is the pinnacle of the thriller genre. To mark its superiority, re-experience it today or enter its splendor for the first time. "North by Northwest" isn't called a classic for nothing: Satisfaction guaranteed.
