Dear reader, you can be forgiven for mistaking Swampflix for an Alfred Hitchcock blog lately. At the beginning of the year, I had three major projects in mind to guide my film-viewing for 2026. The first was to watch all of the films that had made Swampflix’s annual collaborative top-ten lists that I had not yet seen for myself (which resulted in the publications found here and here); the second was to watch and write about all of Ann Sothern’s Maisie films; and the third was to get the site to a place where all forty of the thriller films directed by Alfred Hitchcock had some kind of coverage, in the lead up to an overall Hitchcock ranking. That final project is now complete, and I’ve successfully ranked all forty of Hitchcock’s thrillers below.
Even if one only limits their viewing of his films to his forty thrillers, that’s still a daunting number for the average person. Were they all worthwhile? Were there any that were overlooked classics forgotten to time because they didn’t have the name brand recognition of a Psycho or a Vertigo? Were there any that people shouldn’t even bother with? I made it my mission in 2026 to finish watching and, in the case of movies I hadn’t seen in over two years, re-watching all forty in order to generate a definitive (subjective) ranking. At last, the great work is complete.
The Bad
40. Frenzy (1972) – The bottom of the barrel. Not just a bad movie because it’s ugly, cruel, and nasty, although it certainly is all of those things, but because of the pall that it casts over the rest of the director’s career. The subtleties, nuance, and clever handling of studio and censorship boards is gone; with nothing to restrain him, this is Hitchcock unbridled, and the film is craven, base, and vile in a way that makes one wonder if he would have always been this way if he had free reign from the beginning. If he had, we wouldn’t still be talking about his work, and this film’s very existence undermines the entire oeuvre.
39. Under Capricorn (1949) – An overlong period piece costume melodrama shot, like Rope, in a series of long takes, which causes the pacing to suffer mightily. Possibly the worst performance in Ingrid Bergman’s storied career. Shot in Technicolor, which is a waste, given that the Australia of the 1830s is a dull, brown place. Attempts to touch the hem of Rebecca’s garment and misses utterly. Not really a thriller at all, despite a last minute borrowing from Gaslight.
38. The Trouble With Harry (1955) – An unfunny comedy about eccentric New Englanders burying and unburying (multiple times) a corpse that all feel responsible for. John Forsythe’s Sam Marlowe is the most annoying character in the entire Hitchcock canon, and not a single person feels like a real human being. A stagey movie that benefits from being gorgeous, as it effectively captures the beauty of autumn in Vermont, but has no other noteworthy qualities. Some mystery, no thrills.
37. Secret Agent (1936) – The worst of Hitchcock’s 1930s spy thrillers, and the only one that is a period piece, being set during WWI. A novelist/army reservist’s death is faked in order to send him behind enemy lines as a spy, where he is assisted by “The General,” who is played by Peter Lorre in brownface; you feel ashamed watching it play out on screen. Features a train bombing sequence that might look good if this were ever restored, but its problematic elements move this one to the back of the line for consideration for that honor, which is for the best.
The Boring
36. Number Seventeen (1932) – Only sixty-three minutes long but feels like it goes on for hours. A group of people all find themselves at the titular address, a ramshackle house that happens to sit above a rail line, where some number of the parties present intend to board a train later in the evening with a stolen diamond necklace. Attempts at farce are made, but they fall flat, and the men all look too much alike to untangle any of it. The last fifteen minutes, however, are extraordinary, as the final action sequence in isolation is a master class in tension, suspense, and miniature work.
35. Suspicion (1941) – Cary Grant is a useless lump of a man who latches onto the hem of a future wealthy heiress who is approaching old maid status (Joan Fontaine). Following their wedding, she (repeatedly) runs into townies and tells them about her new husband’s latest ventures, only to get an “Oh, honey,” followed by the revelation that he’s actually at the betting track or pawning her family heirlooms. Notable for featuring a character who is essentially Agatha Christie and for executive meddling that “softened” the ending from the source novel, but it doesn’t really matter. Skippable.
34. The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956) – Hitchcock remakes his own 1934 film, shifting the central focus from Peter Lorre’s fascinating villain in the original to Jimmy Stewart and Doris Day’s boring “heroes.” The film spends its first half hour meandering around Morocco before the plot finally starts, not that the pace improves once it does. You will hear “Que Sera Sera” over and over again, and be increasingly bored every time.
33. I Confess! (1953) – Montgomery Clift is a priest who takes the confession of a gardener who slew a local lawyer. When suspicion falls on Clift’s character because the victim was blackmailing him regarding an (unconsummated) pre-seminary affair, he is unable to break the confidentiality of the confessional and thus must seek other means to prove his innocence. Clift is stiff and wooden, and there’s very little of note visually here, but, like Number Seventeen, it picks up speed at the end when the true killer goes on the lam and the priest must assist in his pursuit. Not enough to save it, however.
32. Topaz (1969) – North by Northwest is often credited with introducing and popularizing many of the tropes that would appear in the early James Bond films. A decade later, with several Bond films having hit the market, Topaz is a spy thriller that answers the question of what a Hitchcock Bond film would look like while raising the further question, “Boy, Hitch sure was tired at this point, wasn’t he?” Not a bad movie per se, but meandering and lifeless. The only readily available version is 143 minutes long; perhaps the 127 minute theatrical cut trimmed some of the fat, but whether that would improve Topaz or not is an open question.
The Noteworthy
31. Murder! (1930) – The director’s first fully “talkie” picture, Murder! is an experimental work, not as we commonly think of the term, but in the sense that we get to go along for the journey as Hitch devises ways to incorporate the new technology into the film. Features first appearances of some of the master’s recurring narrative conceits: instead of a wrongfully accused and pursued man, this picture is about a woman who is sentenced for a murder that she didn’t commit, and follows a juror who experiences a change of heart and seeks to find the real killer before her execution, officially kicking off Hitchcock’s investment in stories of miscarried justice.
30. Blackmail (1929) – Sound technology was invented during the production of this one, resulting in two different versions: one talkie, one silent. While considering two-timing her boring Scotland Yard boyfriend, a young flapper defends herself against a would-be sexual assailant with deadly force. Her flight from the scene is witnessed by a man who tries to extort her for money. Expressionistic and exciting even when it’s not always engaging, this is the first time we see Hitchcock set his climax in/near a monument.
29. Jamaica Inn (1939) – Hitchcock’s last British film before he moved to Hollywood. Charles Laughton plays a dastardly local official whose scheming with a band of murderous thieves that operate out of the titular location is undermined by the arrival of Maureen O’Hara and the interference of an undercover naval officer. Often dismissed as a lesser Hitchcock, the sumptuous visuals (in the 4K restoration, at least), Laughton’s hamminess, and a sufficiently compelling romance narrative make up for a sluggish middle section.
28. To Catch a Thief (1955) – Cary Grant is a retired cat burglar whose old crew still resents him for escaping prosecution. When a series of thefts that copy his style break out along the French coast, Grant has to prove his innocence; to that end, he solicits information from an insurance investigator (John Williams—the actor, not the composer) that leads him to potential future theft victims Grace Kelly and her nouveau riche mother. Intrigue takes backstage to the Grant/Kelly romance, although this one is not without some fun visuals, like Grant scaling a house in the middle of the night or a beautiful scene set in an outdoor floral shop.
The Good
27. Torn Curtain (1966) – Sees Hitchcock getting surprisingly political with his thrillers again after the politically vague Stewart version of The Man Who Knew Too Much and North by Northwest. Paul Newman is a handsome scientist whose assistant/fiancee (Julie Andrews) follows him to East Berlin without realizing he plans to defect. It’s a ruse, of course, but her presence threatens to derail the whole mission to obtain the nuclear MacGuffin and makes their hasty retreat from the police state of the Soviet Bloc even more complicated. Perhaps a little overlong, and Newman and Andrews have very little chemistry despite being two of the hottest stars of the day, but fun nevertheless.
26. Family Plot (1976) – Hitchcock’s final film is a fun, solid watch, but it’s also not spectacular, and overly reliant on coincidence. Two small-time con artists, a phony psychic and her cabbie boyfriend, are chasing a $10K payday from wealthy Ms. Rainbird, who wants them to find the only remaining family scion, a bastard nephew she forced her sister to give up for adoption decades earlier. Meanwhile, a dastardly jeweler and his lover/accomplice engage in a series of high-profile kidnappings for ransom. The two narratives dovetail together in a perhaps obvious way, but it’s still fun to watch it come together. The only film on which Hitchcock collaborated with John Williams (the composter, not the actor).
25. Stage Fright (1950) – One of Hitch’s Hollywood era thrillers, but shot in and around London. An acting student (Jane Wyman) at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts is informed by her crush that he has just fled the home of an actress (Marlene Deitrich) with whom he has been having an affair, having discovered her in the middle of killing her husband with the intent to frame him; he begs Wyman to help him prove his innocence. Breaks a major narrative convention (and recurring Hitchcock trope) that riled contemporary audiences, but this allows the director to play around with his audience’s expectations, and features a fun musical performance of a Cole Porter song by Deitrich.
24. Spellbound (1945) – Ingrid Bergman is an extremely competent doctor in the male-dominated field of psychiatry. Her apparent frigidness thaws when her institution’s new director (Gregory Peck) arrives, but he may not be the man he seems to be. Features a dream sequence that was conceived by Salvador Dali; the romance is contrived, but Peck and Bergman sell it.
23. Dial M for Murder (1954) – A small scale domestic thriller shot on the cheap (among other corner cutting measures, a character’s trial and sentencing play out in less than a minute in a colorful void, completely removing the need for a courtroom set) as one of the trial runs for Alfred Hitchcock Presents. Grace Kelly does some of her finest work against a cold, stony Ray Milland. John Williams (the actor again, not the composer) is very fun as a proto-Columbo trying to figure out how the villainous Milland manipulated the events.
22. The Paradine Case (1947) – Like Jamaica Inn, a frequently derided “lesser effort” that is more praiseworthy than its reputation would imply. In Peck’s second collaboration with Hitchcock, he plays a barrister who is called upon to defend a woman against the accusation that she killed her blind, war hero husband. He falls for the woman while preparing for her defense, threatening the foundations of his heretofore happy marriage. Great performances, especially from Ann Todd as Peck’s emotionally ravaged wife.
21. The Wrong Man (1957) – A docudrama based on the real arrest of a man named Manny Balestrero (Henry Fonda), a musician and family man who is falsely identified as an armed robber, tearing his life apart and destroying his wife (Vera Miles)’s mental health. The narrative is somewhat undermined by Hitch’s choice to cast the WASPy Fonda as an Italian-American, which blunts the film’s ability to effectively convey the role that prejudice plays in the arrest, but it nonetheless demonstrates the ease with which any of us might fall into and be destroyed by a broken system through no fault of our own. More timely now than then, and extremely compelling.
20. Young and Innocent (1937) – A successful actress is murdered by her husband, but the crime is pinned on a different man who happens to be her acquaintance and is coincidentally nearby. He escapes from his arraignment and enlists the help of the beautiful young daughter of the head of the local constabulary in trying to prove his innocence. Excellent miniature work, gorgeous tracking shots, and an exciting cave-in all make this one a lot of fun, but it is unfortunately marred by the presence of blackface in the finale.
19. Vertigo (1958) – Undoubtedly my hottest take about “the greatest film of all time” according to Sight & Sound (2012-2022) is that it’s “merely” good, not spectacular. Taken purely on visual terms, it would certainly be in contention, but it’s so lacking in human feeling (excepting a star turn by Barbara Bel Geddes’s as the bespectacled bombshell that Jimmy Stewart should be interested in) other than abundance of neuroses that it’s difficult to connect to on an emotional level. Perhaps it’s intentional that characters throw around the word “love” with abandon when I don’t believe a single one of them, just as Kim Novak’s monotone is purposeful, but it ultimately amounts to less than the sum of its parts.
18. Marnie (1964) – Much maligned due to an unnecessary scene of implied offscreen sexual assault (“implied” in the sense that you know it happened, but could plausibly convince yourself otherwise… maybe), this exploration of the dark side of sexual psychology features a truly winning performance from Tippi Hedren in the title role. The triggers for Marnie’s various episodes of mania are well executed visually, and the scene in which Marnie must mercy kill her beloved horse is genuinely heartbreaking. If you can overlook its flaws (and it’s admittedly a big “if”), there’s something truly beautiful here.
17. Saboteur (1942) – Essentially an American remake of The 39 Steps, although more jingoistic and with a more personal stake on the part of the hero. A wartime aircraft factory worker is accused of sabotage at the plant and must—you guessed it—go on the run to prove his innocence. Along the way, he meets/kidnaps a lady hostage who believes he’s guilty, interacts with various stand-ins for the everyday American, and ultimately finds himself fighting an enemy agent atop the Statue of Liberty. Great stuff.
The Great
16. Notorious (1946) – Roger Ebert’s favorite of Hitchcock’s films. After learning that her father was an Axis spy, patriotic American Ingrid Bergman is recruited by U.S. intelligence officer Cary Grant to infiltrate the home of a Nazi higher-up (Claude Rains) who successfully fled to South America. Her mission is complicated by her growing (mutual) love for her handler as well as the strictures of constant surveillance imposed by her husband’s watchful mother, one of the great Hitchcock villains.
15. Lifeboat (1944) – The survivors of the shelling of a freighter by a German U-boat fight not just for the survival of their bodies but of their souls when they discover a crewman from the enemy vessel is among their number. Tallulah Bankhead is stunning as the reporter whose icy dispassion slowly dissipates in a film that asks what good it is to survive if we become like our enemies, alienated from the things that make us human.
14. Rebecca (1940) – Considered to be one of Hitchcock’s best, and his only film to win Best Picture (star Joan Fontaine did not win Best Actress for her role here but did the following year in Suspicion). Make no mistake—it’s a great movie, but it suffers from an overlong, comedic opening in which our unnamed lead is romanced by widower Maxim de Winter (Laurence Olivier) in Morocco before he returns with her to his home, the palatial estate Manderly, and the psychological elements of the plot come into play. A twisted fairy tale that’s worth the effort of making it through the messy first act, and features one of Hitch’s best villains in the form of Mrs. Danvers.
13. Rope (1948) – Hitchcock’s first attempt at shooting an entire film in long shots, much more successfully than in Under Capricorn. Two young men, groomed by their former schoolmaster (Jimmy Stewart) into thinking that they are better than everyone else and thus “above” good and evil, murder their former classmate for the thrill of it then host a dinner party in the same room as the corpse. Stewart struggles with his character’s moral complexities, but the film is nonetheless a triumph.
12. The Birds (1963) – The first hour breezes by with only minimal references to something odd happening with our feathered friends as Tippi Hedren traipses through romcom stations of the cross: the meet cute, the minor injury that her love interest can bandage, friction with an overbearing mother and then bam! A man with his eyes pecked out. The last hour is carnage and chaos. A master lesson in classing up a schlocky idea.
11. Foreign Correspondent (1940) – An American goes undercover in Europe posing as a journalist, where he gets caught up in an assassination plot. Features some truly blockbuster moments of spectacular action, including a plane crash caused by a shot from a German ship, alongside breathlessly beautiful tableaux featuring hundreds of umbrellas moving like ballet dancers on a crowded street or ominous windmills turning slowly on a desolate plain. A marvel.
The Excellent
10. The Man Who Knew Too Much (1934) – While the later remake of this one focused on the parents of the kidnapped child and their attempts to find their offspring, this earlier version focuses more on Peter Lorre’s kidnapper, who is cultured, refined, and extremely dangerous; he’s a top tier Hitchcock villain comparable to Mrs. Danvers in Rebecca and Madame Konstantin in Notorious. Like Jamaica Inn, this is also an earlier Hitchcock where the lady lead gets to be an utter badass; she’s introduced in the film’s opening as a competitive sharpshooter, which comes in handy later. Leagues more interesting than the fifties revisitation of the same narrative.
9. The 39 Steps (1935) – The first “prelude to WWII” international intrigue thriller. A Canadian man (Robert Donat) helps a woman escape from a theater in which a gun goes off, only for her to reveal that she is a spy with information that must be secreted to her superiors. When she is murdered (with him as the prime suspect), he must flee across the Scottish Highlands in order to find her contact, only to meet obstructive bureaucrats and secret villains at every turn, all while handcuffed to a woman who doesn’t believe in his innocence. In many ways the prototype for all the “wrong man pursued” pictures that followed, and a solid win from the very foundation.
8. Strangers on a Train (1951) – A tennis star trapped in a loveless marriage to an unfaithful wife has fallen in love with a senator’s daughter. A fellow passenger on a train recognizes him, and knows a bit too much about the athlete’s situation from the society papers. The other man relates his own life troubles and how his father is standing in the way of his happiness, then jokes about how each could “take care” of the other’s problem, and no one would be able to figure out the motive. The tennis player laughs this off, but when his estranged wife is killed, he realizes that the other man was dead serious, and expects him to fulfill his half of their “bargain.” One of the master’s best domestic thrillers.
7. The Lodger (1927) – A working class family takes on a new tenant in their upstairs room at roughly the same time that a Jack the Ripper-style slasher called “The Avenger” is terrorizing London. The family’s chorus girl daughter matches the profile of the Avenger’s victims, and the young police officer who is fixated upon her latches onto the new lodger as the likeliest suspect. Is he correct, or is his singular fixation on an innocent man whose presence is a romantic inconvenience allowing the real killer to continue his dastardly work? A silent masterpiece that cribs from German expressionist film, Hitch’s first thriller is also one of his best.
6. The Lady Vanishes (1938) – The best of Alfie’s “prelude to WWII” international espionage thrillers. A young playgirl befriends an older woman when their return to England is delayed by an avalanche. They board a train together and the younger woman takes a nap, only to learn upon waking that her companion has disappeared, and various others aboard the train claim that no such woman ever existed. A variation on the locked room mystery, this one is full of unexpected twists, turns, and romance.
The crème de la crème
5. North by Northwest (1959) – Alongside Vertigo and Psycho, the most common contender for the appellation of Hitchcock’s best film as well as the most frequently homaged/parodied. Cary Grant is Roger Thornhill, an advertising executive whose ill-timed attempt to flag down a page at a hotel bar results in him being mistaken for George Kaplan, a spy who doesn’t actually exist. His flight from his pursuers and to clear his name is assisted and complicated by his romantic and erotic entanglement with Eva Marie Saint, ultimately leading to a showdown with the villains on Six Grandfathers Mountain (aka Mount Rushmore).
4. Sabotage (1936) – Perhaps the most undersung film in the director’s entire repertoire. An American woman (Sylvia Sydney) entrusted with the care of her younger brother lives in London, where her Eastern European husband operates a struggling movie theater. An employee at a neighboring business is an undercover detective trying to find evidence that the theater operator is one of a cabal of saboteurs seeking to undermine the social order. Contains one of the most shocking spectacles in the entire Hitchcock canon, and the most sobering depictions of the grief that follows. Often overlooked, but not to be missed.
3. Rear Window (1954) – The first Hitchcock I ever saw, and in many ways the perfection of his form. Jimmy Stewart doesn’t work as the protagonist of the remake of The Man Who Knew Too Much and struggles with the complexity of his character in Rope, but was born to play the believably cranky, thrill-chasing photographer L.B. Jeffries while Grace Kelly lounges around like an earthbound angel trying to convince him that she’s more than suited for a life of adventure. Raymond Burr is terrifying, and Thelma Ritter is adorable. The limitations of setting and character require an economy of storytelling that is sheer perfection.
2. Shadow of a Doubt (1943) – Hitchcock’s personal favorite of his own films, and an excellent choice for that distinction. Charlotte “Charlie” Newton (Teresa Wright) is a normal teenage girl living in quiet Santa Rosa, California, longing for something exciting to happen to her. She gets what she wished for in the most unpleasant manner possible, when the long absent uncle for whom she was named (Joseph Cotten) suddenly appears for a visit to the Newton clan. Initially delighted, young Charlie’s dream turns into a nightmare as the macabre reasons for Uncle Charlie’s spontaneous visit come to light, and young Charlie must protect her family, both from Uncle Charlie and the horrible truth. The romance plot in this one doesn’t really work, but the film is otherwise unimpeachable.
1. Psycho (1960) – What is there left to say about Psycho? It’s one of the greatest films of all time? That it was the first slasher? That it’s full of unexpected twists and turns that were so famous that they’re no longer unexpected? It was so iconoclastic that it became iconic? That knowing the twists makes the film no less effective, no matter how many times you see it? When putting together my Hitchcock quickies list, I tried to come up with something new to say about it and found myself stumped. This is a film that anyone with even the smallest passing interest in film generally or Hitchcock specifically has seen. It had been discussed to death (and back) before I was even born. It’s Psycho.
-Mark “Boomer” Redmond
