Vertigo

Haunting, mesmerising psychological mystery from the master of suspense. The soft focus, the lush contrasting colours that weave around Novak, the evoking score all help set the surreal mood. Hitch then makes us captive witnesses as we ride the wave of Scottie's battered emotions and deepening obsession, finally cringing at the shattering of mind and spirit in the exquisitely agonising conclusion. Superlative film, Hitchcocks best.

Like a long, slow-burning fuse leading to a pile of dynamite. Even better, just when you think you've recovered from the initial blast, Hitchcock drops another bomb on you. When it was over, there was nothing I wanted to do more than watch it again. Brilliant work.

Strip away its arch weirdness, its psychological complexity, its high-concept soap-opera-ish plot with its elaborate staging and twists and double-crosses (naturally, all the things that make it such an endlessly fascinating piece of strange), and you're left with a story that, for 1958, and perhaps even 2018, feels fairly radical: an abusive, emotionally disturbed cop desperately tries to fashion a loving woman into a fetishized object of obsession until, eventually (inevitably?), he kills her.

Hitchcock's greatest masterpiece. This film involves, shocks, amazes, and of course, features one of the best endings EVER.

Hitchcock's finest movie. Also an extremely strange, dreamlike and mysterious film, especially for the time. It seems to have directly influenced a number of David Lynch's films, among others. James Stewart seems both miscast, being really too old for the role, and perfectly cast, with his folksy Hollywood charm being in a way precisely what is thrown into question, seeming to conceal some kind of sexual dysfunction that threatens to violently explode.