20th Century’s Gone Girl and a dreamy projection of obsessions soaked in the mystifying red and green neons. A brooding, somewhat inebriated spiral from the precipitous top, whether it be a slow descent to insanity from the dizzying heights of romantic desire or lecherous illusion, as the daunting atmosphere gives way for Hitchcock’s covetous hands to grip the viewer by the throat while simultaneously turns on a psychological gaze that serves as an outlet for dark fantasies. Quite hilarious at times, maybe that has got something to do with the way it's aged and the floundering overabundance of emotive “acting” from its leads - mellow yet also very wooden - and that ending…kinda feel like a cheat isn’t it?

Shame they didn’t do Midge justice.