British drama of the more mature kind, with a nice piece of countryside atmosphere to draw you in. Can't say I was loving the story. I mean, there was a certain charm to their acquaintance, and the rural communication with the locals helped take away the artificial feel to a typical movie romance. And that's the experience for me when it comes to Michael Powell (and Emeric Pressburger) movies. Their aim is so specific that sometimes it hits you hard,…

"Cricket, sir. Cricket!"

This is one of the funnier Alfred Hitchcock films and up there with The Man Who Knew Too Much (1934) and The 39 Steps (1935) as Hitchcock's best British work of the 30s. The pacing so different. Taking it's time for a seemingly irrelevant opening portion other then to get to know some of the people and get entertained with slapstick and naughtiness before the suspense elements slowly starts taking over when the train start rolling. And…

I never thought such a wonderfully rude romance story could have me in tears because of it's underlying sweetness!

The dialogue was incredible! I guess that's down to George Bernard Shaw who wrote the play. It escapes all the clichés to reach it's clichés and feels so much more rewarding then your average screwball farce because they actually do get under each others skin!

And this is another time when Leslie Howard takes my breath away. From being a actor…