Just about everything works with "Suspicion", except of course the ending, not so much that it negates everything we've come to know about Johnnie Aysgarth (Cary Grant), but in the way in which Lina (Joan Fontaine) simply takes it on faith that what Johnnie reveals is true. Johnnie the schemer, Johnnie the conniver, Johnnie the rogue; 'yes dear, I was going to kill myself because I can't pay back my debts'. Then they proceed to drive home to live happily ever after, except of course, nothing's changed. Johnnie still owes on his gambling debts and the embezzlement at Melbeck's, so how exactly is everything now hunky dory?
The explanation of course lies in the fact that Hitchcock's studio restrictions wouldn't allow him to portray Cary Grant as a murderer. It's too bad since having Grant play some of his scenes with an uncharacteristically dark edge revealed a side to his acting that wasn't often seen up till then. Contrast that with the sublime beauty of his new wife Lina (Joan Fontaine), and you had the makings of a real thriller, but the 'huh?' ending we actually get made it less than satisfying for this viewer. Especially after 'murder' in the scrabble tiles, 'Murder on the Footbridge' and murder in the milk glass.
Up until the ending though, I found the principals quite credible. Grant and Fontaine take their portrayals through convincing character arcs that build suspense along the way. I particularly enjoyed Nigel Bruce as Beaky; as Dr. Watson in the Sherlock Holmes franchise he's much too restrained. Here he's affably jovial and offhandedly self effacing, as in the scene where he makes himself stand in the corner; that almost took on the appearance of an ad lib and it worked wonderfully.
Over the past year I've seen a number of Hitchcock's early British films, and one can note the progress in his story telling style. Now with back to back viewings of "Strangers On A Train" and "Suspicion", it's apparent that not all of his American movies were an unqualified success. In a way that's O.K., since it prepared him for his later masterpieces, notably "North by Northwest" and "Psycho".
The explanation of course lies in the fact that Hitchcock's studio restrictions wouldn't allow him to portray Cary Grant as a murderer. It's too bad since having Grant play some of his scenes with an uncharacteristically dark edge revealed a side to his acting that wasn't often seen up till then. Contrast that with the sublime beauty of his new wife Lina (Joan Fontaine), and you had the makings of a real thriller, but the 'huh?' ending we actually get made it less than satisfying for this viewer. Especially after 'murder' in the scrabble tiles, 'Murder on the Footbridge' and murder in the milk glass.
Up until the ending though, I found the principals quite credible. Grant and Fontaine take their portrayals through convincing character arcs that build suspense along the way. I particularly enjoyed Nigel Bruce as Beaky; as Dr. Watson in the Sherlock Holmes franchise he's much too restrained. Here he's affably jovial and offhandedly self effacing, as in the scene where he makes himself stand in the corner; that almost took on the appearance of an ad lib and it worked wonderfully.
Over the past year I've seen a number of Hitchcock's early British films, and one can note the progress in his story telling style. Now with back to back viewings of "Strangers On A Train" and "Suspicion", it's apparent that not all of his American movies were an unqualified success. In a way that's O.K., since it prepared him for his later masterpieces, notably "North by Northwest" and "Psycho".