The trouble with The Trouble with Harry is that it’s not nearly as celebrated as it should be. Despite carrying arguably the most prestigious name in cinema in the form of being helmed by the iconoclastic Alfred Hitchcock, it has nestled comfortably into the status of being one of his lesser efforts, with many not realizing how absolutely brilliant the film actually is. Hitchcock was doing something slightly different with this film – while many of his films had some degree of comedy embedded in them (specifically when the director was aiming to showcase the strange nature of the world around us), some more than others, this was one of the few occasions later in his career where the director was making an actively funny film, one that was defined less by the sense of suspense, and more by establishing a very quirky and endearing portrayal of society. Throughout The Trouble with Harry, we’re given the chance to see the world filtered through the director’s very peculiar perspective, Hitchcock compiling his own feelings towards some of society’s more notable and lovable faux pas into the form of a charming comedy that hints at something deeper, while never deviating too far from the happy-go-lucky premise that will leave most viewers who were not expecting such a straightforward comedy scratching their heads, which is the exact reaction Hitchcock normally hoped to elicit from his audience. It may not hit the same impossible heights as some of the other work the director did (particularly in this decade, since the vast majority of his best work is contained in the 1950s), but The Trouble with Harry is nonetheless a riveting good time, a charming and fascinating character-driven comedy with a dark sense of humour and a lot of quirky stylistic flourishes that elevate it to the point of near-perfection, making it an absolutely essential entry into the director’s prolific career.

If there was one quality that is most admirable in Hitchcock’s work, more than his ability to establish a particular tone and launch any viewer into a state of being on the verge of an existential crisis with his use of crippling suspense, it is that he was a director with a knack for reinvention. He rarely stepped too far out of his comfort zone, especially after becoming one of the most notable directors working in the business, but it’s what he did under his self-imposed constraints that is often mesmerizing. The Trouble with Harry is simply a comedy about four people, all of whom are in love with one another, working together to solve an irritating little problem that is a bit of a minor inconvenience for them. It just so happens that their concerns are related to a dead body they stumble upon in the forest (the titular Harry), with three of the four protagonists believing that they were responsible for his death. There is nothing much more to the premise than this very basic explanation – but knowing how many tricks Hitchcock tended to have up his sleeves, it’s obvious that there was something more here, and part of the experience is waiting in feverish anticipation to see where the director is going to take this vaguely absurd premise next, each new scene contributing to the sense of bewildering amusement that he manages to evoke from nearly nothing at all, using only implication and some strong writing, as well as a few terrific performances, to transport us into a particular time and place, giving us free-reign to explore this version of the world, while observing the hilariously irreverent comedy-of-manners that serves as the basis of The Trouble with Harry. The effort put into making this film so endearing needs to be noted, especially considering how this could’ve easily been a more traditional thriller with Hitchcock at the helm, so the fact that we saw something considerably different here only provides further evidence towards Hitchcock being one of the true masters of his craft.

The Trouble with Harry would not be nearly as successful had Hitchcock not made use of a strong ensemble, since this is a film that depends almost entirely on the work being done by the cast. There are four principal roles, each one of them populated by a terrific actor that commits fully to the surreal but terminally delightful nature of the film. Edmund Gwenn, one of the first character actors to make a legitimate career out of unconventional roles, is the central lead, insofar as him being the first character we encounter. Playing the charming sea-captain who stumbles upon the body first (having believed that he accidentally shot Harry while hunting for rabbits), he is wonderful – his gentle, passive demeanour and ability to draw out so much emotion from even the most inconsequential line is impeccable, and helps draw us into this world. Mildred Natwick is adorable as the village spinster who reveals her feelings towards the captain after she finds him in the midst of getting rid of the body, while Shirley MacLaine (in her debut performance, although you would struggle to believe it, considering how comfortable she is on screen) is a riot as the deceased’s widow, a woman who is more happy to see Harry’s dead body than she ought to be. This raggedy quartet is capped off by the presence of John Forsythe, who is as charming as ever in the role of the talented young artist who sacrifices everything he has to help them resolve this little problem they’ve run into, while making his adoration for the young widow known. It’s a motley crew of characters that Hitchcock makes sure come across as lovable and interesting, since the only route to the core of this bewildering story is through their perspective – so ensuring that every frame is filled with an exuberance on the part of the actors, Hitchcock allows the strange nature of this film to reach a peculiar crescendo, which we don’t even notice, since the protagonists that guide us there are so strange in themselves, we tend to be distracted from the more overt absurdities that serve as the foundation of this film.

However, it shouldn’t be neglected that, tone and atmosphere aside, The Trouble with Harry is clearly a film made by Hitchcock. Even when he may not be employing exactly the same cinematic tricks, his style and approach exudes from every frame, to the point where this film is both a perfect departure from his usual tense, frantic style of suspense, but also very much along the same lines as what we’d expect from a Hitchcockian comedy. It takes a very special kind of artist to not only make the concerted effort to try something new, but still stay within one’s own creative avenue, since venturing too far can sometimes have perilous results. The traces of Hitchcock are widespread and diverse, whether it be the darkly comical approach to social mores, the larger-than-life characters that represent different archetypes, or the strange use of implication to set a particular tone. At its heart, The Trouble with Harry is nothing more than Hitchcock’s version of a romantic comedy, where the traditional meet-cute is not in a bustling coffee shop or on a crowded street, but rather in an isolated forest, where the impetus for the start of a relationship is not a common interest or instant attraction, but rather the shared interest in resolving a major problem such as disposing of a dead body before the authorities find out about it. It makes for thoroughly engrossing cinema that feels a lot more genuine considering the amount of work that went into its creation. The blending of genres is something that isn’t necessarily new to the director, but this was one of its more effective demonstrations, where this isn’t just a suspenseful thriller with overtones of comedy, but rather the inverse – and even when he isn’t working with the same familiar toolbox we’d expect, Hitchcock was still capable of concocting something of a minor masterpiece.

The original novel by Jack Trevor Story was a perfect work for Hitchcock to adapt, and along with screenwriter John Michael Hayes, the director brings The Trouble with Harry to life in vivid detail, making sure that every frame was positively brimming with the kind of oddball energy that we’d expect from such an unconventional look at a romantic comedy, as filtered through the lens of one of the most actively interesting directors to ever work in the medium. Ultimately, The Trouble with Harry is a very easygoing film, and it doesn’t require much energy to be expended on the part of the viewer – the story is hopelessly simple, and it never really deviates too far beyond the basic premise, and the manner in which the director executes this story is delightful, allowing it to flourish into a quaint little pastoral comedy, accompanied by broad overtures of darkly satirical humour that bolsters the sense of absurdity that defines most of the film. Hitchcock isn’t often remembered for this film, with The Trouble with Harry being more of a footnote on his career, a lovable novelty adored by devotees, rather than a beloved entry into his canon of fine work. However, the heartfelt humour, wonderful performances and generally charming execution all work towards making this a truly delightful and effervescent comedy with a lot of heart, and an endless supply of deranged brilliance, and prove that even when we was stepping out of his comfort zone, Hitchcock was still capable of crafting unforgettable stories that show exactly why he’s one of the best filmmakers to ever work in the medium.