Bondfan-4

I had the misfortune to miss this film when it ran in the theaters, see Kevin Spacey's Oscar acceptance speech in which he gave away the ending, and only LATER rent it on video. Despite knowing the shocker in advance, I was nonetheless mesmorized by "The Usual Suspects". In fact, it was actually kind of fun knowing the twist, because I could pay more attention to the way the twist was presented.

However, on balance, I wish I hadn't known -- my shock no doubt would have been similar to that I felt at the end of "The Sixth Sense." All in all, "The Usual Suspects" is an extremely clever piece of filmmaking, if a bit convoluted at times. Spacey is absolutely brilliant, fully deserving of his Oscar.

This is the type of light-hearted fare that doesn't get made much anymore (and was certainly not Hitchcock's stock in trade). The plot is fine -- not to tough to follow but not particularly engrossing. The acting is above-average -- two beautiful people playing beautiful people, plus a solid supporting cast.

What really distinguishes "To Catch A Thief" is its look. In my opinion, Grace Kelly is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and the French Riviera has never looked finer. For a film that's basically about ultra-rich people dealing with "problems" only they could have, this movie is pretty darn good.

Don't expect anything earth-shattering, but if you're looking for escapist fun with that Hitchcock flair, "To Catch A Thief" is definitely worth seeing.

I saw this film with my girlfriend about a year after I graduated from college, where I had lived in the alpha-male, females-as-accessories environment of a fraternity house. While I know of nothing that went on in my fraternity that compares to the horrible events of this film, I was struck that some of the beer-fueled conversations I had with my fraternity brothers could have led to the same results with more likelihood than I realized at the time (or care to admit even to this day). Suffice it to say, I cried all the way home from this movie, as much from shame as anything else.

Twelve years later, I still cannot recall being as horrifyingly struck by a scene as I was during the rape scene at the end of "The Accused" -- and I definitely do not have the stomach to see it again. The movie, in my view, is exceedingly well-acted (Foster's Oscar was well-deserved) and well-told. It has the rare gift of touching the viewer viscerally for the entire duration -- discomfort being the feeling.

This isn't virtuoso film-making like "The Godfather", but at the same time I can think of no greater compliment for a movie than it truly opened my eyes to a new perspective that I was not mature enough to grasp on my own. I left the theater a different person -- how often can that be said?