Why does this wonderful film have such a small (though charmingly represented, the rest of you!) cult following? Not only is it an exceptional noir that manages to visually translate into gorgeously gaudy technicolor (only other example, 1945's "Leave Her to Heaven"), but it's Marilyn's one moment, and a finely acted one, of being an integral part of genuinely thrilling cinema. Think of the story telling, so unusual for slick journeyman dullard Henry Hathaway, how Hitchcockianly things progress without any obvious evidence of copying the master, likely because with all these perfect elements Hathaway just couldn't go wrong. The monstrous beauty of those falls affects every aspect of the plot, from the characters' psychology (those midwestern hicks being such splendid pivots, and won't their honeymoon accounts make them the cocktail party stars for years to come?) to murderous convenience, then the falls themselves just take over in the breathtaking finale, in a thundering horror that shows just what happens to those who, however accidently, trifle with them. I love this movie. I think I rated it, before starting and hurriedly, four stars but, while rethinking in the course of writing this, I hereby proclaim it a five. It's no critical favorite thus not for people of acquired cinematic tastes because you have the professionally astute to give you your guidelines, but for gut level lovers of movies, this could become a yearly.
Review of Niagara
