Shadow of a Doubt, and Strangers on a Train

In other local/personal news, my next-door neighbors have moved out. You may recall when my annoying downstairs neighbors moved out, I was psyched because anyone who followed them had to be an improvement, and in fact the new folks downstairs are fine. (They're actually largely absent these days.) Well, the folks next door are a different story: Unless the new people are two cute, young, single women, it's hard to imagine having better neighbors. They were quiet and friendly, which is pretty much what one wants in neighbors.

(Actually, when I got home tonight, there were cars in both of their assigned parking spaces - new ones. But the lights were off in the apartment. Wonder if new folks have already moved in, or what?)

I've been thinking about what I'd like in my next apartment. The floorplan of this one is nearly optimal, although I'd be happy to knock out one bathroom and have the floor space for stuff (or a closet) instead.

I think what I'd most like is a better location, in two ways. First, obviously, a location where I can walk (or have a short bike ride) to a decent downtown area would be nice. Campbell's downtown area is kind of lame. Being near some sort of nice park instead would be fine. Second, it'd be nice to have a view that didn't involve just building and a parking lot: Either I'd like to overlook a sidewalk where people actually walk by, to amuse the cats, or it'd be nice to have some trees around which would enclose the area a little, and attract birds and squirrels (also, to amuse the cats).

Obviously, these things are at a premium in the urban sprawl of the Bay Area. But it's good to codify the kinds of things I'd like to have.

This afternoon I met up with Subrata, Mark, Rollie, Kelly, and CJ to see a couple of early Hitchcock films at the Stanford Theatre.

First up was Shadow of a Doubt (1943), in which "Uncle Charlie" Oakley (Joseph Cotten) comes to visit his older sister and her family, but he is apparently on the run from the law. His niece (Teresa Wright), named after him, idolizes him, until she learns that he's on the run from a couple of detectives, and learns what he's accused of.

Cotten does a fine job as the sometimes-warm, sometimes very cold and callous Charlie Oakley, and the rest of the cast does a good job of portraying a middle American family. But the story is not really all that strong, as the revelations of Charlie's life are a bit disappointing, and the movie overall seems like little more than a vignette, seen at a bit of a distance. The film tries too much to focus on both the Charlies, so we never really feel entirely comfortable with either of them.

Strangers on a Train (1951) is a better film, overall. In it, Guy Haines (Farley Granger, a rather unusual-looking fellow for a leading man of the era) is a star amateur tennis player who wants a divorce from his wife to marry the daughter of a Senator. On a train he meets Bruno Antony (Robert Walker), the ne'er-do-well son of a rich family who hates his father. Bruno proposes that they each murder the other's hated individual to remove any question of motive. Guy thinks, "Yeah, cute idea. What a weirdo; I'd never murder someone," but then Bruno does go and murder Guy's wife. Guy isn't sure whether he can tell the police what happened without being charged as an accomplice, so he tries to put it behind him, but Bruno then starts following him and pressuring him to hold up his end of the never-made bargain.

This is a refreshing film because none of the characters are idiots, although some of them are credulous to varying degrees. Guy's fiancee and her sister catch on to pieces of what's going on and start to put some of it together, and Guy - though obviously intimidated - doesn't behave stupidly. It struck me part-way through the film how conditioned I am to expecting a certain level of stupidity - usually for dramatic or comedic effect - from characters on-screen. Characters who are all smart (all of them) but not perfect is quite a change.

Unfortunately, the film falls apart at the end with a lengthy tennis match interlaced with the suspense of Antony encountering some ridiculous obstacles as he tries to make things go poorly for Guy, followed by an absolutely silly final battle between the two on a runaway merry-go-round. Up until that point, the film was quite good, but I'd have to rate it only "okay" overall. ("Hitchcock at his worst" is what CJ calls the last few scenes.)

These were two of Hitchcock's lesser films, as far as I'm concerned. I'd only put Foreign Correspondent below them, of the ones I've seen.

Oh, yeah: And The Red Sox stayed alive by beating the Indians 9-3 today, behind Ramon Martinez' pitching (gosh, I hope we have him under contract for next year) and home runs by John Valentin and Brian Daubach. It's not over yet, folks!

Meanwhile, the Mets will face the Braves in the NLCS, and the Braves have dominated the Mets (sounds of much ass-kicking emanated from their stadiums when they played) all season. Of course, the Red Sox dominated the Indians both last year and this year, and look where it got them. The winner of the Sox/Indians series will face the Yankees in the ALCS, as they held Texas to one run in three games in their division series. Wah.