The Man Who Knew Too Much

The Man Who Knew Too Much is a film of peaks and valleys. There is little argument that it is a good film; whether you place it amongst the highest of Hitchcock's work depends on just how much you value the stratospheric heights it reaches, and whether they overcompensate for the lulls. The film is never weak, but it is weak for Hitchcock in parts. Watching it for the first time, and knowing that it is a Hitchcock film, you feel as though you don't quite need all the foreshadowing and lampshading. As it progresses, you can't help but feel a sense of déjà vu with his other work — remarkable for this film as compared to the parts of his filmography not considered his absolute best. As a remake of his own 1934 work, and something relatively mid-career for him, it is very much him in his bag, doing what he does and what he is well known for. Compare this with, say, Family Plot, where your mileage largely depends on how willing you are to go along with him doing something much shaggier…