Laura’s distinctive finish, like that of its characters, conceals the murky depths beneath so successfully that you can love it without letting yourself be pulled into its deeper mysteries. Laura?s flawless surfaces are seductive, but that’s the point: The milieu of careless affluence and privilege carries with it a kind of rot that infects its characters.

Joseph LaShelle’s Oscar-winning cinematography, with its impeccably composed shots and gorgeous lighting the sharp, clever dialogue of Jay Dratler, Betty Reinhardt, and Samuel Hoffenstein (adapting Vera Caspary?s novel), delivered by the uniformly excellent ensemble Bonnie Cashin’s costumes, so flattering and chic on both Gene Tierney and Judith Anderson David Raksin’s evocative score, most famous for its haunting title theme and Otto Preminger’s brilliant direction-without feeling the undertow of its subterranean pull. It’s so beautifully made, its elements so seamlessly woven together that it’s possible to watch it a number of times and enjoy it for its formal components. I should be sincerely sorry to see my neighbors’ children devoured by wolves.” She thought me also the kindest, the gentlest, the most sympathetic man in the world… McPherson, you won’t understand this, but I tried to become the kindest, the gentlest, the most sympathetic man in the world.” I was in complete accord with her on that point. “Laura considered me the wisest, the wittiest, the most interesting man she’d ever met. How singularly innocent I look this morning. “McPherson, if you know anything about faces, look at mine.

Laura caspary