Hitchcock's films are malicious games played by the director as expert
torturer against the audience as victim. For him we are Janet Leigh in
the shower, Cary Grant in the cornfield, James Stewart helpless and
immobile. It's the choice of such empathetic actors which makes us prey
to the mechanics of his suspense. His least worthwhile films are the
ones cast with the cattle hardest to care about (Lifeboat, Spellbound,
The Paradine Case). His very best (Vertigo, Strangers on a Train,
Notorious) are those in which the line between hero and villain is
defined least clearly, throwing the morality of our affiliations into
disturbing disarray.
