"The Glass Key" (1942)

The Glass Key (1942) is based on a Dashiell Hammett novel of the same name, and is actually the second film adaptation -- an earlier one made in 1935 starred George Raft (quick, someone get DKoren a swooning couch!).  Orson Welles also adapted it for the radio in 1939 for his excellent show The Campbell Playhouse (listen to it here on YouTube).  This version has a screenplay by Jonathan Latimer, who also wrote on of my guiltiest semi-noir pleasures, Plunder of the Sun (1953), as well as many episodes of Perry Mason.  The film is directed by Stuart Heisler, who mostly directed westerns, but does a serviceable job here as well.

I read the novel about a decade ago, but I read all of Hammett's novels in a row at that same time, and now I mix most of them up in my head, except for The Maltese Falcon and The Thin Man.  Which means I should re-read them all one day, I suppose.  At any rate, I won't be speaking here to whether or not this is faithful to the novel, just how the movie works on its own.

So there's this guy named Paul Madvig (Brian Donlevy) who is some kind of crooked political figure.  I have never managed to figure out what he is -- some kind of city official or something?

He has ties to bad guys who run nightclubs and speakeasies (this seems to take place during Prohibition), but he decides to support a "reform party" candidate's bid for governor because he falls in love with the candidate's daughter, Janet (Veronica Lake).

Of course, this makes all his old buddies in the underworld sore because he starts working against them.  Not only that, but Madvig's right-hand-man, Ed Beaumont (Alan Ladd) sees that Janet is only stringing Madvig along to get his support for her father.  So Beaumont tries to convince Madvig to quit pursuing Janet and stop angering his old buddies, but Madvig is besotted.

Also, Madvig's sister Opal (Bonita Granville) is running around with Janet's brother Taylor (Richard Denning), who owes Madvig's erstwhile pals a lot of money.

Then Taylor (Janet's brother) turns up dead.  Beaumont discovers his body and thinks Madvig killed him to keep him away from his sister (Madvig's, not Taylor's or Beaumont's -- I know this is a little convoluted, but please try to keep up).

Madvig thinks Beaumont killed Taylor to separate Madvig and Janet.  Janet thinks Madvig killed her brother, Opal is convinced he did it to keep her away from Taylor, and the police start to think he did it too.  Especially when someone starts sending anonymous notes to the police, the newspapers, and everyone else involved.

Then Madvig's old pals decide that the way to get at Madvig is to corrupt his right-hand-man, Ed Beaumont.  When dear Beaumont turns out to be thoroughly loyal to his boss (and I've never figured out why he's so loyal, I just go with it cuz Alan Ladd plays "loyal" very convincingly), they turn him over to a sadistic thug named Jeff (William Bendix), who beats poor Beaumont up very enthusiastically and thoroughly.  And then beats him some more.

And keeps on beating him, just because Jeff likes to beat people up, especially Beaumont.

Beaumont cleverly escapes, starts putting puzzle pieces together, figures out who did kill Taylor, finds a way to keep Madvig safe from the underworld, and generally fixes everything.  Except he and Janet fall for each other, even though she accepted Madvig's proposal.  But, in the end, that turns out okay too.

As you can tell, this is kind of a tangled film.  I've watched it several times now, and I still haven't figured out a few things, as I mentioned.

One of my favorite moments is the spot where Beaumont gets mad at Madvig for being so thick, they have a big argument, and Beaumont smashes a beer glass and threatens Madvig with it.

It's kind of an unexpected moment, and I think it's mostly there so you suspect Beaumont has turned his colors in the next scene.  But it also lets you know that Beaumont is a Tough Guy so that the beatings he takes later on carry more weight.  And especially so that Ladd's finest scene holds even more emotional punch.

I mentioned earlier that Jeff (William Bendix) beats Beaumont beyond all reason.  Beaumont escapes, but later encounters Jeff again and has to try to get some information out of him.  Jeff is mostly drunk, but still very menacing.  They highlight the fact that Bendix is taller, broader, and beefier than Ladd, to good effect.

Jeff says friendly things to Beaumont because there are people around, but he gets gradually scarier and scarier.

And Alan Ladd does a brilliant job of looking like a terrified man trying to appear unconcerned.  He goes very still and watchful and wary.  Jeff takes Beaumont upstairs to a private room above the speakeasy "for a drink," and Beaumont looks increasingly frightened.

This is speculation, because noir made under the Hays Code makes you read between the lines a lot to get the nastier aspects of a story, but I get the feeling that Jeff did -- or threatened to do -- more than just beat Beaumont while he was a captive.  The level of fear in Beaumont's eyes when Jeff gets him in a room alone is stronger than I would expect if he was anticipating "only" a beating.

Beaumont gets hold of a glass bottle and toys with it, reminding us of that beer-glass-smashing scene, reassuring us and himself that he has a weapon if he needs one.

In the end, it's his own fear as much as the hulking Jeff that Beaumont has to conquer, and Ladd plays that scene beautifully.

Studio execs saw how well Alan Ladd and Veronica Lake had played off each other in This Gun for Hire (1942) and quickly put them in another film noir together.  Unfortunately, this film as a whole isn't as good as its predecessor, at least not in my Alan Ladd-loving opinion.  Ladd feels here as if he hasn't quite grown into his trench coat and fedora -- he has to work hard to convince me he's super-duper tough in this, whereas in Gun I had no trouble believing he was scary-tough, maybe because he also had a little-boy-lost thing going on to balance him out.  He's stiffer in many scenes here, like he's trying too hard because he knows he's supposed to be a star now.

Or maybe it just feels that way to me.  He has some excellent scenes too, as I've discussed, but overall he doesn't have the same relaxed, comfortable presence throughout that he displays by the time The Blue Dahlia (1946) rolls around a few years later.

Still, this is an enjoyable bit of early-'40s noir, and worth seeing.

Is this movie family friendly?  No.  While the violence is mostly implied, it can be brutal.  I have a hard time watching the beating scenes -- they feel worse to me than anything Russell Crowe dishes out in L.A. Confidential (1997), if you can believe that.  Partly it's because Alan Ladd is my current celluloid beloved, but mostly it's just squirm-inducing filmmaking.  Which means it was well-made, but not for kids or sensitive folks.

This is my second entry into the Film Noir Blogathon hosted by Quiggy at The Midnite Drive-In.  This has been an amazing event, and if you're at all interested in film noir, you definitely want to check out the incredible variety of posts people are contributing.  I know I'll be working my way through them for days to come.

Star Trek Convention AAR -- Saturday

On to Saturday!  Or, as I called it in my head, ShatnerDay.

DKoren, L, and I ate a quick breakfast in our room, then started getting into costume, doing hair and make-up, and so on.

(Photo courtesy of DKoren)

Because that was the day we were going to wear our classic Star Trek uniforms.  The day we would get our photos taken with William Shatner.  The day we would learn just how much our feet could hate us.  But I'm getting ahead of myself.

(Photo courtesy of DKoren)

DKoren did my hair.  Originally, we had planned that I would wear it up on top of my head somehow, but I got so many compliments on it on Friday when we were just walking around, not even in costume, that we decided it should be down, but still fancy.  Here's what she came up with:

This is a worse picture, but shows you a bit better how she did it -- she made a braid on my left and right sides, above the temples, and one in the center of the back, and then braided them and the leftover hair together in one loose, complicated braid.

I loved that it kept my hair out of my face, but still looked sort of futuristic, while showing off that yes, I really do have that much hair.

 And then, out we went into the world, dressed as Starfleet officers, complete with purses that looked like tricorders.

I'm not sure what it is about a costume, but being disguised in any way gives me a boost of bravado.  Did I mind walking amid thousands of strangers in the shortest skirt I had ever worn?  Nope!  (We did all have matching shorts underneath, and nylons.)  It was pure fun.  At least, until my feet started to protest -- I don't wear high heels pretty much ever (and neither to L and DKoren), so that was the one drawback to being in uniform, but really, it was a minor one in the end.  And, once again, I'm getting ahead of myself, because for the first few hours in costume, we were just sitting down anyway.  We went back to the venue I talked about in the earlier posts and saw three panels/interviews in a row.

First up were Star Trek:  The Next Generation's Michael Dorn (Worf), Marina Sirtis (Troi), and Jonathan Frakes (Riker).  They were highly amusing, especially when Sirtis got all annoyed that 90% of the questions from the audience were for Frakes, who spent much of the panel wandering the platform, talking to fans on the sidelines, and then playing with the little Trivial Pursuit game set up at the moderator's desk.  He asked the others a couple of questions from the game cards and was generally relaxed, cheerful, and hilarious.  Michael Dorn spent most of his time chuckling at the other two.

Here's a shot of a big screen so you can see them better.

Next up was Walter Koenig, who played Ensign Chekov on the original series.  I was so pleased by how spry and intelligent and enthusiastic he was.

He sat down at first, but then got up after a few minutes and paced the stage most of the time.  He did some awesome impressions of other cast members, which were such fun.

 And then, it was William Shatner's turn.  (Do I have to tell you that he played Captain Kirk on the original series?  I hope I don't.  But I will, I guess, just for the very-very-very-non-Trek-oriented readers.)

Now, I honestly did not go to this convention solely to see, hear, and meet William Shatner.  I didn't.  But him being there was a big deal for me.  You see, I fell in love with Star Trek as a young teen -- even before I fell in love with Combat!.  We're talking like 13 years old.  Very young, just beginning to figure out who I was and wanted to be.  And Captain Kirk was a HUGE part of my formative years.  Until I got to college, and C! edged it out, Star Trek was my favorite TV show, hands-down.  And Captain Kirk was my favorite character -- I didn't start out having a crush on him so much as just wanting to BE him.  I wanted to have that calm, that courage, that leadership ability, and yes, that power.  I wanted a captain's chair all my own.

As I got older, I added a crush on the character to my hero-worship, but to this day, I would much rather be like Captain Kirk than be liked by Captain Kirk, if that makes sense.

I've seen William Shatner in quite a few other things besides Star Trek, from a favorite episode of The Big Valley ("A Time to Kill") to Third Rock from the Sun to his turn as Professor Bhaer in the 1970s Little Women.  I find him utterly charming on-screen, I really do.  And in person, he was just as charming.  Funny, witty (not the same thing!), intelligent, kind, passionate... I was enthralled, as you can tell.  For more than an hour, he reminisced not only about Star Trek and the friendships he made while filming it, but about his horse-racing, recent TV projects, books he's working on, theoretical physics, and so much more.  He answered questions from fans graciously, sometimes even warmly, and I came away from that hour more firmly a fan of him than I had ever been before.

And then, of course, the icing on the cake -- we stood in line for almost 2 hours (in those boots!) and got our photos taken with him.  Which was a breathless experience, in a way -- I spent lots of time psyching myself up for the 30 seconds I'd be in his presence.  I spent months figuring out exactly what I would say, because I knew I'd have time to say one sentence, they'd snap the photo, and off I'd go.  Which is precisely how it went.

Mr. Shatner was sitting on a stool for his photos (he took hundreds of them that day, and he's in his mid-80s, so I'm really glad he could sit and be at least a little comfy) and, when it was my turn, I followed the attendants' instructions to stand next to him, and he turned a little and looked right in my eyes, and I smiled and said the sentence I had rehearsed for so long:  "Thank you for everything, Mr. Shatner."  He smiled back, we turned to the camera, they snapped the shot, and then he said, "Thank you."  I said, "No, thank you" as they moved me off, and it was DKoren and L's turn for their photo.

And that was it.  That was my few seconds meeting William Shatner.  And those were some pretty magical seconds, I have to say.  I actually spoke a whole sentence without sounding like a loony, I didn't trip and fall over, and he was as sweet and kind as could be, considering he only spoke two words to me.  He didn't really say anything to the person before me, and they didn't say anything either, so I feel like, hey, I'm really proud I said my one well-rehearsed sentence.  It was only six words, but they meant a great deal for me, and I hope he understood that what I really meant was, "Your character, Captain Kirk, helped me become who I am today, and your performances have brought me countless hours of joy and fun and learning.  My life is richer because of the way you did your job."  That's what "everything" meant, anyway.

So after that, we wandered all over the convention, getting our pictures taken in lots of different settings, really enjoying our costumes.

(In the transporter)

There were TONS of people in costume that day -- they'd held a costume contest on Saturday morning, so people still had all sorts of spiffy outfits on from that, but there were also just loads of people like us in plain old uniforms from all different series.  I feel like most of the uniforms were either from TOS or TNG, though I might be wrong on that.

(Jumping out of the Guardian of Forever)

Most of the people who weren't in a costume of some sort had at least some kind of Trek-related t-shirt on, and it was overall just so cool to see so many people proclaiming their love of Star Trek via their clothing.  Maybe I'm weird in thinking that was cool, but whatever, it pleased me.  There were a few people in costumes that we couldn't quite figure out how they were supposed to pertain to Trek (like the guy in a super-cool, super-authentic WWII ETO get-up.  Is there an ep somewhere that involves WWII?  We couldn't think of one), but mostly, it was all Trek, all the time.

(And then there was the remote-control, full-size R2-D2 in the vendor room...)

We wound up at the room they'd decorated as Quark's Bar, where they had a replica of the original Captains' Chair set up in front of a backdrop that looked like the bridge.  A guy dressed as Harry Mudd obligingly took our photos and flirted in a Mudd-like way with us, which was highly amusing.  And I suddenly decided there was no way I could sit in that chair in a ladylike manner in that short skirt and those high boots.  So I declined to try it out, and let DKoren and L take turns in it instead.

Then we decided that the guy cosplaying as Harry Mudd was so hilarious and perfect (I mean, he offered to find us lonely miners for husbands, but he said he'd have to pay us because we didn't need his Venus drug -- how funny and in-character and sweet is that?) that we stalked him until we could get our picture taken WITH him instead of just him taking our photos with our cameras/phones.

As you can see, he was most happy to oblige.

DKoren and I had to stay in our costumes until well into the evening so we could get our photos taken on the recreated set of the bridge, which we'd paid for.  We decided we had to do something wacky and fun instead of just smiling, because that would be boring and pedestrian.  And we refuse to be either of those things.  So we pretended the ship had just been hit and we were trying to stay at our posts:

(Chekov has always been one of my favorite characters, so DKoren graciously let me sit at his post.)

And then our feet hurt too much to bear anymore, so we went back to our room and soaked our feet in the bathtub because they closed the pool area at 6pm at that hotel (so drunk people don't drown in it, I guess), so we couldn't soak in the hot tub.

And we learned that if anyone ever tried to boil DKoren alive, she would survive, because she can withstand torturous water temperatures, and even claims they are "cool and pleasant."  So now we know what her superpower is.

We ended the day with jammies and Pushing Daisies again, because by then it was a ritual.  And I think this was the day I fell asleep in the middle of an episode, oops.  But they graciously rewatched it with me the next day so I wouldn't stay in suspense.

"The Blue Dahlia" (1946)

The Blue Dahlia (1946) tells the sad tale of three Navy bomber crewmen returning home from the war.  Marital infidelity, mental instability, and murder collide in typical noir fashion in this classic written by none other than Raymond Chandler, directed by George Marshall, and produced by John Houseman.

When Lt. Comdr. Johnny Morrison (Alan Ladd) returns from the war, he discovers that his wife Helen (Doris Dowling) is cheating on him with Eddie Harwood (Howard da Silva), who owns the Blue Dahlia nightclub and is involved in various shady goings-on.

He punches Harwood and breaks up the party his wife was throwing at their bungalow.

Meanwhile, Morrison's friends Buzz (William Bendix -- Ladd's real-life best buddy) and George (Hugh Beaumont -- yeah, Ward Cleaver from Leave it to Beaver) find an apartment together because Buzz needs looking after.  He has a metal plate in his head from getting wounded during the war, he has problems with short-term memory loss, he gets confused easily, and he can be very aggressive.  Loud music aggravates all those problems whenever he hears it.

That first evening, Morrison confronts his wife about her cheating, her alcoholism, and her party-girl ways.  She insists on continuing to drink in front of him, which he tries time and again to stop.  But she likes alcohol and seems to be trying to provoke a fight over it.  She tries to hurt him by confessing their son's death was her fault, and Morrison roughs her up a bit.

Right from the first, we've known their marriage was unhappy from the way Morrison grimaced when his pals told him he was lucky to be coming home to a wife.  There's some suggestion that he had been physically abusive before.  Because this is noir, I can accept a hero with dirty hands, but nothing Morrison does in later scenes with another woman suggests that he is a habitual woman-beater.  I, for one, don't get the sense that he's going to go on and abuse the next woman in his life -- he's not at all like Bud White (Russell Crowe) in L.A. Confidential, whom I love but also worry about and fear.  Maybe this is because Alan Ladd is my shining star right now -- that's certainly possible.  But I'm sure that if he wanted to play Morrison as thoroughly volatile and abusive, he could.  He gives off an impatient, violent vibe at the beginning, but the absence of it later makes all the stuff earlier feel like it's just meant to make the audience doubt whether or not Morrison kills his wife.

Because the wife dies.  Shot with Morrison's gun, which we saw him drop on the chair before he walked out on her.  Dude, don't leave guns lying around, especially in the same room as a drunken and desperate woman.

He walks off into the rain and meets up with Joyce (Veronica Lake), who turns out to be married to Eddie Harwood, the guy who's been cuckolding Morrison.  Unhappily married, as she's basically a girl scout and doesn't like the way he earns his money or treats people.  Or the fact that he's running around on her, of course.  She's on fairly friendly terms with him for all that, though.  It's kind of odd that a straight-shooting, nice girl like her married him in the first place, but he says at one point that he married her before she could find out what he was, so that somewhat explains it.

Anyway, the police want to question Morrison about his wife's murder, but he assumes they'll pin it on him, so he runs from the police while trying to figure out who did kill her.  And that's what makes up the bulk of the film.

The first time I watched The Blue Dahlia, I was confused by the ending.  Well, not exactly confused -- exasperated, maybe.  While I love mysteries, both in books and on film, I don't like mysteries where all the clues turn out to be bright red herrings.  The kind where, when they reveal the culprit, you can't look back and say, "Oh, of course!  It had to be that person."  Agatha Christie does that too often, which is why I'm not a fan of a lot of her stories.  Raymond Chandler doesn't do that.  And when the ending of Dahlia felt that way to me, I got grumpy.

You see, Raymond Chandler is my absolute favorite author (I've written about him several times on my book blog), and this is the only film he wrote an original screenplay for, so I've been pretty jazzed up to see it for a long time.  And when I finally did, it was after falling head-over-heels for Alan Ladd earlier this year, giving me two reasons to be excited to see this particular noir classic.  So my disappointment was confusing, and my confusion was disappointing, if that makes sense.

However, I went ahead and watched Dahlia a second time, because I sort of hoped maybe it wasn't so bad after all.  And guess what?  It wasn't!

The second time through, knowing who the killer is, everything did make a lot more sense.  Not complete sense, and a lot of stuff still smells of red herring, but it does work, at least.  However, I learned recently that all this annoyance is actually not entirely Raymond Chandler's fault!

I learned from The World of Raymond Chandler -- In His Own Words (edited by Barry Day) that the US Navy didn't like the way the screenplay originally ended.  In a letter Chandler wrote to James Sandoe in 1946, he said, "What the Navy Department did to the story was a little thing like making me change the murderer and hence make a routine whodunit out of a fairly original idea.  What I wrote was the story of a man who killed (executed would be a better word) his pal's wife under the stress of a great and legitimate anger, then blanked out and forgot all about it; then with perfect honesty did his best to help the pal get out of a jam, then found himself in a set of circumstances which brought about partial recall" (p. 145).  But the Navy objected to having an injured serviceman be the killer, so Chandler had to change it.  (See pages 140-145 of The World of Raymond Chandler for the full story.)

The whole film sets up Buzz (William Bendix) as the killer, and when at the last moment it turns out he's innocent, the story deflates for me.  But that's a fairly minor quibble, in the end (even though I've spent all this time discussing it), because the acting, dialog, and cinematography are very enjoyable.  And now that I know that Raymond Chandler wasn't really responsible for that irksome plot twist, I'm happier.

The acting ranges from good to excellent to acceptable, which is about what I hope for in a movie, really.  Alan Ladd and Howard da Silva are good, William Bendix is excellent, and Veronica Lake is acceptable.  I like her character and her acting a lot better in This Gun for Hire (1942), but she's fine here.

The camera work is nice.  Nothing hugely showy -- you won't suspect it's directed by Otto Preminger, by any means, but it's solid.  The parts shot in the rain have the most atmosphere, and some of them are beautiful, like these:

And, as you'd hope would be the case with a screenplay by Raymond Chandler, much of the dialog is fantastic.  A few of my favorite lines:

"It seems I've lost my manners.  Or would anyone here know the difference?" (Morrison to his wife's party-happy friends)

"Well, you could get wetter if you lay down in the gutter."  (Joyce to Morrison when she offers him a ride in the rain)

"Every guy's seen you before... somewhere.  Trick is to find you."  (Morrison to Joyce)

"Maybe you'd like it better if I minded my own business."
"Think you could?"
"I could try."  (Joyce and Morrison and Joyce again, with the sort of caustic flirting Ladd excelled at acting and Chandler excelled at writing)

"It's a terrible thing for the hotel."
"Kinda tough on the Morrison dame, too."  (Hotel detective and policeman discussing the murder)

"I seem to have misplaced your name at the moment."
"Where were you keeping it?"  (Hotel detective and Buzz)

"I don't happen to be that kind of rat."
"What kind of rat are you?" (Harwood and Morrison)

So is this movie family friendly?  As film noir goes, it's fairly tame.  Lots of alcohol use, and the issue of marital infidelity is key, but the violence is actually fairly minimal.

This review is my first entry into the Film Noir Blogathon hosted by The Midnite Drive-In.  Please check out that blog for links to all the great blogathon entries over the next few days.  I'll be reviewing The Glass Key (1942) for this event as well, so stay tuned for more noir Alan Ladd :-9

My Ten Favorite Alfred Hitchcock Movies

Eva's Alfred Hitchcock Blogathon has begun!  This is my contribution to the event, the list of my favorite Hitch films.  Are any of these your favorites?  Does your taste coincide with me, or differ wildly?  I'd love to hear which of his films you love best!

1.  Shadow of a Doubt (1943)  A young woman (Teresa Wright) who idolizes her uncle (Joseph Cotten) slowly comes to suspect that he's not the nice, kindly man she thought, but actually a serial killer.  Yes, I love this one especially much for Joseph Cotten, as he's a pet of mine and this is one of his best performances.

2.  To Catch a Thief (1955)  French authorities ask a reformed cat burglar (Cary Grant) to help them catch another jewel thief, using the glittering assets of a lovely socialite (Grace Kelly) as bait.  This is just one gorgeous costume after another, with snazzy dialog to match.

3.  The Trouble with Harry (1955)  Harry is dead, and various people try to figure out what to do with his body.  It's kind of a screwball black comedy, if you can imagine that combination.  Daffy and delightful.

4.  North by Northwest (1959)  A normal guy (Cary Grant) gets mistaken for a spy by an Evil Bad Guy (James Mason) and goes on the run with a lovely blonde (Eva Marie Saint), who I'm sure had a connection to the plot somehow, but I can never remember what it is.  It doesn't matter, cuz this one is great fun even so.

5.  Rear Window (1954)  Wheelchair-bound photographer (James Stewart) and his girlfriend (Grace Kelly) spy on their neighbors and suspect one of them has committed murder.  But how to prove it?  Voyeuristic filmmaking at its best, it reminds us that we're just peeking at movie characters through a window too.

6.  Dial 'M' for Murder (1954)  A rich tennis champ (Ray Milland) wants his wife (Grace Kelly) to die, and each time his plan goes awry, he concocts a new one.  The real mystery for me is why she ever married him the first place, but whatever, it's tense and thrilling.

7.  Strangers on a Train (1951)  Two strangers (Farley Granger and Robert Walker) meet on a train (you could've guessed that much from the title, right?) and casually discuss the idea of killing off each others' annoying relations.  Only then one of them actually does it.  This one always gets me on the edge of my seat even though I don't particularly like any of the characters.

8.  Rebecca (1940)  A young lady (Joan Fontaine) marries a rich, older widower (Laurence Olivier) and finds herself tormented by the idea of his first wife.  Secrets and obsession at their darkest.

9. The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956)  An American couple (James Stewart and Doris Day) on holiday in Morocco accidentally get involved in a conspiracy and find not only their own lives threatened, but their child's as well.  I really just like this one for the cast, as the plot never grabs me very much.  But I do love James Stewart and Doris Day.

10. Stage Fright (1950)  A young actress (Jane Wyman) tries to prove that her friend (Richard Todd) is innocent of killing the husband of his mistress (Marlene Dietrich).  And then she starts to wonder if he's innocent after all.  This is another one I mostly love for the cast, as I have a soft spot for Richard Todd.  It's got a great plot and everything, I just mostly like it for him.


Don't forget to visit Coffee, Classics, and Craziness for all the Hitchock-themed fun over the next few days!