The pleasure of being a completionist when it comes to certain artists is that it allows you to pay attention to smaller works that you might otherwise ignore due to them being overshadowed by the more major achievements. I’ve been gradually working my way through the work of Alfred Hitchcock, and while it has been a combination of being entranced by the classics and engaged with the more divisive works, it has also been an opportunity to watch how his career developed, ultimately resulting in a series of different eras in which the esteemed director was commonly working. Spellbound is not a minor film at all – in fact, there are some who consider it amongst his very best works (and to cut to the chase, I am certainly one of them) – but it did have the unenviable task of occurring in the ambigious space between Rebecca and Notorious, two of his major works that defined their different periods, leaving everything that occurred between them to essentially fade into the background by comparison. Interestingly, as controversial of an opinion as it may be, Spellbound is somehow better than both, the kind of enthralling but deeply aloof psychological thriller that made Hitchcock the master of his craft that has essentially defined his entire status as arguably the finest film director in the English-speaking world. The more we allow ourselves to pay attention to the world being created here, and see the hints of darkly comical satire that occur in stark contrast to the foreboding story that gradually unravels before our eyes, the more we can see how Spellbound is deservedly one of Hitchcock’s greatest achievements, and a film that deserves as much acclaim as any of his other work.

Hitchcock knew how to turn the most straightforward material into a bold spectacle without it seeming excessive, and Spellbound is a great example of this. The premise is incredibly simple, but it somehow feels like a film of enormous scope, with the exciting pace and often irreverent humour undercutting the deeply disturbing implications that are embedded in the story. Categorizing the film is as interesting as seeing how Hitchcock and screenwriters Ben Hecht and Angus MacPhailweave together various narrative threads, buttressing them with a fascinating set of theories that have real-world implications that extend beyond the sometimes simple overarching premise. Having your main characters be a psychologist and her love interest, who is an amnesiac on the run from the law after being accused of murder, is an intriguing place to start, and it feels like a film quintessentially designed to pander to both Hitchcock’s interests as a director, as well as to the taste of those who love his precise but complex explorations of certain issues, which are often done with a healthy blend of twisted humour and genuine suspense. Some of this comes from the original source material by John Palmer and Hilary A. Saunders, which went by the more convoluted and far less interesting title The House of Dr Edwardes, but credit must be given to Hitchcock, who added his magical touch to what was essentially a very straightforward thriller that would have likely been rendered as nothing more than a charming but slight film noir had he not found a way to elevate the proceedings, highlighting many of the more interesting qualities simmering beneath the surface.

The film is somewhat ahead of its time – it begins with a foreword about how the story is focused on psychoanalysis, which was shockingly still a relatively new concept (this was still the era where electroshock therapy and lobotomies were considered viable forms of treating mental disorders), introducing these ideas to audiences that may not have expected it. Over time, a director’s work is logically revisited and gains a new critical consensus based on fresher perspectives, and there is very little doubt that Spellbound is one that would be far more interesting to look at now in comparison to when it was originally released, precisely because of how the public perception regarding the treatment of mental health has changed. However, this is only the starting point for the film, which is not really about the merits of psychotherapy as it is just a story that uses it as the primary thrust of what will become a very daring thriller set in a familiar place, but told through Hitchcock’s distinctly subversive methods. The tone is very much aligned with his most popular work, with Spellbound being as much a psychological thriller as it is a dark comedy and melodramatic romance, the three working in conjunction to incite a work of pure entertainment, one that allows us to immerse ourselves in this world without feeling that we need an explanation at every turn, which is unfortunately one of the primary expectations when it comes to such complex stories. This film demonstrates that there doesn’t need to be an abundance of twists or bold changes to keep the viewer engaged – a story can move from one point to another and still be genuinely surprising, which is extremely encouraging and quite exciting when it comes to looking at a work that has such a progressive stance on something that is still a source of a lot of contention.

Another aspect of Spellbound that is worth noting is how it featured Hitchcock’s collaborations with two major actors, who were doing some of their very best work here – and considering both would go on to reunite with the director on later films, it seems like the experience was at the very least pleasant enough to sway them to work together again. Ingrid Bergman starts a short but impressive run of films with Hitchcock by playing a conflicted psychologist caught between the standards of her profession and her deepest desires, caused by the presence of an enigmatic stranger who she soon learns is not the person he says he is, played by the magnificent Gregory Peck. This was the first and only time the pair collaborated, but yet their chemistry is extraordinarily palpable – they play off each other like true professionals, and help one another to find the nuances lurking beneath these more ambigious characters, defining them as more than just thin archetypes. Regardless of their quality, Hitchcock’s films almost uniformly have strong performances and interesting characters, and Spellbound is certainly one of the most striking examples. Bergman in particular stands out – popular consensus is that she reached her apex as a performer under Hitchcock’s direction the following year in Notorious, and while she is undeniably brilliant there, it’s her performance as Dr Constance Petersen that allows her to really take on a complex character worthy of her talents, and the fact that Peck was there to match her beat-by-beat, as well as the rest of the cast (including Leo G. Carroll, as the film’s scene-stealing villain), only proves how Spellbound is a truly tremendous character-driven drama that knows how to find the perfect balance between genres.

The fact that Spellbound has barely held on as a classic of the era is somewhat inexplicable – it is a daring and provocative psychological thriller with a strong script, magnificent performances and typically brilliant direction from a filmmaker who was constantly reinventing his methods of telling stories at this point, while still developing a distinct style of his own, which would carry him forward to the end of his career, by which he was arguably the most celebrated director working in Hollywood at the time. However, it’s not always the major films that are impressive, but also the smaller ones, the more intimate but equally well-crafted masterpieces that keep him in the public consciousness, and Spellbound is not any exception. Bitingly satirical and darkly brooding, it’s a peculiar work of the psychological thriller genre (which was still in its infancy at the time, meaning that Hitchcock and his collaborators had a much bigger task ahead of him than most would think, since they were essentially playing a part in establishing the genre as a whole), and it becomes a work of incredible intensity in how it focuses on a few fundamental concepts, while still being a well-crafted, sweeping thriller with undertones of romance that keep it afloat. There’s something for everyone here, and like all of his films, Spellbound carries with it a sense of genuine interest on the part of the director, who was always committed to telling stories more than anything else, of which this is certainly one of his most compelling, and a film that lingers with the viewer long after its thrilling and surprisingly strange conclusion, proving to be an unexpected masterpiece in Hitchcock’s long and prolific career.