#45 North by Northwest (Hitchcock) at the Aero Theatre
I hadn’t seen this film in almost thirty years, but it was one of the screenings I’d been looking forward to the most, mostly for sentimental reasons. I was introduced to it in high school video arts by Mr. Weesner, who used the crop-duster scene to teach us about Hitchcock’s obsession with storyboarding and visual control. I can still picture him pressing pause on the classroom VCR, pointing at the leading lines and emptiness around Cary Grant, explaining how none of it was accidental.
That sequence was conceived almost entirely in advance, planned shot by shot. The suspense doesn’t come from dialogue or music but from the composition of each frame. Hitchcock uses vast negative space --- Cary Grant stranded in an empty, sunlit field --- to heighten tension, subverting expectations of danger lurking in shadows. Each visual beat escalates with architectural precision.
When the Mount Rushmore finale hit, I realized I had completely forgotten that the movie ends with Thornhill and Eve dangling from the faces of presidents. When he pulled her to safety and the camera cuts to them in the train car, the whole theater cheered. It felt earned. I don’t care what people say about Vertigo. Or Psycho. Or Rope. North by Northwest (1959) is Hitchcock at his best. It’s the perfect balance of suspense, humor, and romance.
Before the show, I watched the man seated next to me light up when his teenage daughter arrived. “I’m so glad we get to watch this together,” he told her, beaming. He explained that it was one of the best films of all time, clearly delighted to share something that meant so much to him. (He also noted, "Your mom doesn't like this movie. She thinks all the sexual innuendo is cringe.") Watching them made me miss my own dad. And Mr. Weesner. There’s something about revisiting a film like this that reminds you movies aren’t just stories. They’re inheritance.