Kino Lorber’s Bluray of Alfred Hitchcock’s The Paradine Case (’47) pops on 5.30. Please understand this is a sub-par Hitchcock from his post-Notorious, pre-Strangers on a Train phase, which was largely about treading water. He finally got the old pizazz back with Strangers. Stage Fright and Under Capricorn were also made during this fallow period, which lasted four and 1/2 years, give or take.

I’m tempted anyway, of course. I’ve never seen Paradine in 1080p — only once or twice via standard-def cable. I’ll sit through just about any flush big-studio ’40s film if it looks good enough. Hitchcock’s dp this time was Lee Garmes — Detective Story (’51), The Lusty Men (’52), The Desperate Hours (’55), and Howard Hawks‘ Land of the Pharaohs (’55).

“The Paradine Case is a straightforward portrait of obsession and downfall,” I wrote on 12.16.15. “It’s a carefully measured, decorous, stiff-necked drama about a married, middle-aged attorney (a too-young Gregory Peck) who all but destroys himself when he falls in love with a femme fatale client (Alida Valli) accused of murdering her husband.

“A foolish love affair is one thing, but Peck’s exists entirely in his head as Valli isn’t the least bit interested and in fact is in love with Louis Jordan, whom she was seeing before her husband’s death. Not much of an entry point for a typical moviegoer, and not a lot to savor.

“It’s essentially a romantic triangle piece (Peck, Valli, Jordan) but you can’t identify or even sympathize with Peck as Valli is playing an ice-cold monster. But I’ve always respected the tragic scheme of it. By the second-to-last scene Peck’s humiliation is complete and absolute.”

The way this Amazon drone hovers and then slowly descends towards a landing spot on a big green lawn…well, c’mon. You can tell me this wasn’t staged to resemble the arrival of Michael Rennie‘s spaceship in The Day The Earth Stood Still. Yes, I realize that Amazon honcho Jeff Bezos wasn’t even born until ’64, or 13 years after Robert Wise‘s sci-fi classic opened, but he knows this 1951 film cold, trust me. Don’t tell me Klaatu’s arrival wasn’t in the mind of whomever staged this event…don’t tell me that!

As a longtime loather of all things Dwayne Johnson (on 12.8.16 I called him “a comme ci comme ca Republican who’s out to make dough and keep things as vapid and formulaic as possible…an amiable baba with a ripped bod”) and one who harbors strong negative suspicions about Seth Gordon’s  Baywatch (Paramount, 5.26), I feel obliged to turn the other cheek and pass along some buzz from a friend. Take it with a grain.

“I can tell you that everyone is surprised at how well that Baywatch plays and has tested,” the guy says. “It went through development for years and years, but somehow the tone came out right and it apparently channels The Rock’s sweet spot.   [Allegedly] the best comedic use of Johnson to date. There’s a satirical current that sends up Jerry Bruckheimer and Michael Bay cinema, mocking the omnipresent shallowness and overt calculation of every set piece, plot point and storyboarded CGI action sequence. Baywatch wasn’t super-expensive, save for its stars, and will surprise audiences as a smart, funny film that works like gangbusters.”

In my experience the worst checkout-line schmoozers (i.e., people who couldn’t care less if their chit-chat is delaying you and the others in line for God knows how many minutes) are found in pharmacies. These are people who are probably dealing with some sort of affliction, and in lieu of a doctor are hoping for a touch of emotional comfort and reassurance from the pharmacist. So they talk about their aches and discomforts and lack of sleep or whatever, and the pharmacist, invested in a general alpha attitude towards all customers, feigns interest and offers suggestions along with a caring smile. Which prompts the chit-chatter to unload all the more about whatever’s ailing. And I’m standing there third or fourth in line, listening and sighing and rolling my eyes.