Another beautifully shot undeniable classic of the genre from the Sixties, though I’ll admit I have less to say about this one. Like The Innocents, it has a very highly strung woman at its heart, and Julie Harris as that woman is every bit as good as Deborah Kerr was at portraying, essentially, a disintegration of a very fragile notion of self. I’d entirely forgotten how this movie ended, and just as with The Innocents, I found myself questioning from the start, “and why is this scary again?” but being constantly hit by the reminders. That swelling door – just fantastic. And the final moments – poor Eleanor still changing her mind about what she wants at the wheel after it’s too late – the movie just leaves you exhausted yet almost relieved for her, to be finally at an end, whether or not it’s the end she wanted. Again, like The Innocents – and I think in this case my review kind of shows it – it’s a movie I still haven’t even begun to fathom, and perhaps never will. But each time there’s something more to keep me coming back, and if there’s a sign of a good movie, that must be it.