But who are you, bewitching Dr. Edwardes?

A disappearance, lost memories, a couple on the run. Violence, vulnerability, love. Violins, tension and a touch of anxiety. Nightmares, an investigation, surprising revelations. With The House of Dr. Edwardes that Alfred Hitchcock, who has always shown a definite interest in the psychology of his characters, enters into the thriller psychological.

«I've always avoided whodunits because usually the interest lies only in the final part. You wait quietly for the answer to the question: who killed him? No emotion,» says Hitchcock in an interview with François Truffaut. Although the final scene of The House of Dr. Edwardes reveals the name of the murderer, yet discovering it is not the main focus of the plot. Which, paradoxically, is what makes this film so good, and demonstrates the director's genius in the process.

We learn early on that the character played by the handsome Gregory Peck is not who he claims to be. Worse still, we discover that he has stolen the identity of the psychiatrist he poses as, possibly killed him and promptly forgotten all about it. A pity, some might say, since waiting to make this revelation could indeed have been the perfect twist. However, the plot twist comes after just a few minutes.

Then Constance Petersen (the luminous Ingrid Bergman), convinced of her innocence, must probe the mind of the charming, enigmatic stranger she has fallen in love with, in order to bring to the surface the memories of the man whose memory is failing. Visibly traumatized, sometimes threatening, sometimes feverish, it's around him that the mystery is born and the suspense is built. Who is this man? What is he hiding? Why does he seem bewitched (the film's title is Spellbound ready to faint every time he comes across black lines on a white background? Is he manipulating Constance? Is he going to take it out on her?

Critics have often criticized Hitchcock for his somewhat naive, crude and simplistic approach to psychiatry. Let's not forget, however, that in the 1940s, psychoanalysis was still in its infancy, only twenty years old. As far as I'm concerned, I can't help but see The House of Dr. Edwardes as a success story. Why was that? Because I shuddered, then smiled. I opened my eyes wide, then squinted. I thought I understood and then saw my hypotheses refuted.

So much the worse if the screenplay sometimes gives way to certain facilities, because I was taken by the plot, touched by the characters, dazzled by the images (even if I'll grant you that the ski descent scene is very difficult to watch today). Miklós Rózsa's violins are the perfect accompaniment to each sequence, sublimating the narrative. Dalí's dream scene, with its reminiscences of the film An Andalusian dog which he co-directed with Buñuel, is both surprising and perfectly at home in a film that gives pride of place to the unconscious.

Certainly less accomplished than the famous Psychosis, The Birds or Vertigo, For me, however, it marks the master's successful entry into the world of psychiatric disorders, which were then brought up to date by the influence of the Surrealists and the success of psychoanalysis. And while it may pale into insignificance for some nowadays, I wonder how anyone can fail to fall under the old-fashioned charm of a film that's so much in tune with «its time».

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