Let’s take a journey back to 1941—a pivotal moment just months before my maternal grandmother would come into this world and mere months before the infamous attack on Pearl Harbor thrust the United States into the chaos of World War II. In this particular time capsule, a film emerged that embodies the essence of screwball comedy: Love Crazy, directed by Jack Conway, known for the films like Viva Villa! and A Tale of Two Cities. This film stars the effortlessly charming duo of William Powell and Myrna Loy, who together graced the screen in 13 films—14 if you count Loy's brief appearance in the 1947 flick The Senator Was Indiscreet. Their dynamic, always portraying a couple, showcased a rare and intoxicating on-screen chemistry, most notably in the delightful Thin Man series. Crazy Love ^[*] marked their tenth collaboration, offering a whimsical misunderstanding plot that far surpasses much of today’s Hollywood output in terms of writing, acting, and direction.

Powell and Loy bring to life Steve and Susan Ireland, a married couple joyfully celebrating their fourth wedding anniversary. Their plan? A personal reenactment of an Inuit ritual from Baffin Island—though this year, they’ve decided to perform it backward, culminating with dinner first instead of at midnight. However, the evening takes an unexpected detour when Susan’s mother, Mrs. Cooper (Florence Bates), barges in uninvited. An innocent trip to mail an insurance premium nearly ends catastrophically for Steve, as a lift attendant—played by the always quirky Elisha Cook Jr.—reminiscent of his role in Don’t Bother to Knock.

One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, the iconic 1975 film directed by Milos Forman and featuring Jack Nicholson in an unforgettable Academy Award-winning role, is set to make a grand re-entry into our lives—this time digitally in 4K ULTRA HD and on 4K UHD Blu-ray Disc, hitting shelves on November 11th, just in time for the 50th anniversary of its initial release on November 19, 1975. This restoration was lovingly crafted by the Academy Film Archive, with a little help from Teatro Della Pace Film and the ever-passionate producer Paul Zaentz. Picture this: a brand-new 4K scan taken straight from the original 35mm camera negative, complete with a dusting of magic for the opening shot and titles. It’s not a full-fledged reconstruction, but boy, does it deliver a stunning upgrade from the standard Blu-ray editions that had us longing for just a tad more clarity. And let me tell you, it’s presented in the film’s original 1.85:1 aspect ratio, which feels just right.

Based on Ken Kesey's gripping 1962 novel of the same name, this film isn’t just a story about a misfit—it's about the fight for autonomy in the face of a stifling system. Our protagonist, Randle McMurphy (played with manic brilliance by Jack Nicholson), feigns mental illness to find himself inside a mental hospital, where a motley crew of patients becomes his unlikely family. But lo and behold, there’s Nurse Mildred Ratched (Louise Fletcher), a force of nature who embodies the very definition of control and conformity, making even the most hardened inmate seem like a puppy in her presence.

The film swept the Academy Awards, claiming all five of the premier Oscars: Best Picture, Best Actor for Nicholson, Best Actress for Fletcher, Best Director for Forman, and Best Screenplay for Hauben and Goldman. Its colorful history doesn't end there; it began life as a stage play in 1963, with Kirk Douglas portraying McMurphy—a journey that he kick-started by securing the rights to bring Kesey’s world to the stage and screen. And in 1993, the United States Library of Congress deemed this film "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant," ensuring its place in the National Film Registry for all time.

Daphne du Maurier (1907-1989), where have you been all my life? That’s a question I've pondered after diving into her Gothic romance, Rebecca, in 2020, shortly following my viewing of the Netflix remake. Just a side note, though: I’m firmly in the camp that prefers Alfred Hitchcock’s brilliant 1940 adaptation. But I digress.

In a serendipitous twist, I found myself collecting various older editions of Rebecca and other du Maurier works, and I can confidently say she has skyrocketed to my top ten authors list, nestled comfortably alongside Shirley Jackson. Mark your calendars for September 30th, folks! That’s when Scribner is set to release a fresh edition of du Maurier's previously published short stories. I can already hear the naysayers grumbling about the estate milking its deceased author’s works. But honestly, I see it differently. Reviving these classic texts, with the family’s blessing, opens them up for a new generation of readers. If it weren't for the remake tie-in edition, I might never have discovered Rebecca in the first place. So please, keep those reprints coming, publishers!

Daphne du Maurier is best known for Rebecca, hailed as “one of the most influential novels of the 20th century” by Sarah Waters, and the basis for Hitchcock’s iconic film. More than thirty-five years after her passing, her Gothic brilliance and piercing psychological insights continue to resonate with contemporary authors, such as Ottessa Moshfegh, Maggie O’Farrell, Lucy Foley, Gillian Flynn, Jennifer Egan, and even the father-and-son horror aficionados like Stephen King and Joe Hill. Speaking of which, if you’re a King fan, you’re in for a real treat—with a glowing introduction to After Midnight, where he shares his appreciation for du Maurier’s work.

One of my all-time favorite horror novels, Robert Bloch's Psycho, is getting a gorgeous new deluxe hardcover edition. It’s set to hit the shelves on September 2nd from Abrams Press, an imprint of ABRAMS. This edition pulls out all the stops—it's got a see-through jacket, a debossed cover, special endpapers, and even edge-staining. The design is both eerie and captivating, making it a perfect addition for horror aficionados or collectors who appreciate a book with a little bite. You can preorder it on Amazon ^[*] or check your favorite indie bookstores.

The story begins on a stormy night with Mary Crane stumbling upon the Bates Motel, drawn in by its dark, unlit neon "vacancy" sign. She’s exhausted, lost, and in dire need of a warm shower and a place to rest. Enter Norman Bates, the motel manager. He appears friendly, yet there’s something off about him.

Norman is deeply fixated on his mother. While most people assume she passed away two decades ago, he knows she's very much present—he's been living with her in their old house on the hill since his time in the hospital. When a beautiful woman checks in one fateful night, Norman can't help but watch her undress, but "Mother" is always there to intervene with a butcher knife.

"I think perhaps all of us go a little crazy at times."
—Robert Bloch, Psycho

If you're a fan of classic horror films, the story of Norman Bates and his cryptic mother at the Bates Motel is likely familiar territory. Alfred Hitchcock's 1960 film, featuring Anthony Perkins and Janet Leigh, continues to send chills down spines long after its release, and it all began with Bloch's chilling novel.

The legacy continued with Psycho II in 1983, directed by Richard Franklin and once again starring Perkins. Perkins helmed the director's chair himself for Psycho III in 1986 and reprised his character one last time in the cable film Psycho IV: The Beginning, which served as both a prequel and a sequel. Then there's the 1998 remake by Gus Van Sant—a shot-for-shot reinterpretation that unfortunately didn’t do well at the box office. Not to forget the 1987 TV pilot, Bates Motel, which flopped because it didn’t feature Norman Bates. In more recent years, a new TV series titled Bates Motel, starring Freddie Highmore and Vera Farmiga, took off and offered a fresh take on the characters, running for five successful seasons.

When it comes to Bloch’s writing style in Psycho, it leans toward the pulpish, delivering a straightforward narrative that’s easy to digest. Despite its simplicity, the story remains gripping and uniquely eerie. I first picked it up back in 1998, drawn in by the tie-in edition featuring the remake’s poster. While Hitchcock’s film is iconic in its own right, the book unveils some interesting differences. For instance, Norman is portrayed as a short, portly man in his 40s, complete with thinning hair and glasses. The story begins with Norman in a heated argument with “Mother” before shifting the focus to Mary Crane—not Marion, mind you—who’s driving through a downpour. After stealing $40,000 from work, she's trying to escape to her fiancé, Sam Loomis. Their relationship is mostly built on letters and occasional phone calls; they’ve never been intimate. With Sam busy paying off his father's debts before marriage, Mary harbors a plan to return the stolen money. But fate leads her to the wrong motel, where she meets her gruesome end in the shower—beheaded, in contrast to the stabbing in the film. Following that, the plot continues to align with the movie, sprinkled with small surprises.

As for the stunning new edition from Abrams Press, it exudes an eerie allure. The jacket showcases Mary’s hand from the infamous shower scene, splattered with blood, while the spine boldly displays “Psycho” along with “A Novel by Robert Bloch.” The back of the jacket features chilling quotes from Peter Straub, Stephen King, Alfred Hitchcock, and The New York Times, all accented with blood splatter. Even without the jacket, the hardcover is entrancing—blood-splattered shower tiles, complete with a textured debossed finish. Inside, you’ll find red endpapers adorned with a Bates Motel room key and a bloody shower drain, with even the edges of the book showcasing the blood splatter.

In my opinion, Psycho is an essential read for any horror fan. I'd wholeheartedly recommend it to anyone craving a dark, twisted story filled with captivating characters. This deluxe edition from Abrams Press truly is a treasure for Psycho fans. ╌★★★★★

⁓B.J. Burgess

I am assuming most readers have already read the classic gothic tale REBECCA by Daphne du Maurier. I, for one, am late in the game with this novel. I saw the Albert Hitchcock Oscar-winning adaptation way back during my childhood, and while the plot details are scarce in my memory, I did like the film. In early January, I watched Netflix's 2020 remake starring Lily James, Armie Hammer (the less I talk about him, the better), and Kristin Scott Thomas. Even though the gothic-aspects were watered down compared to Hitchcock's vision, for the most part, I liked it enough to rewatch it twice. Later, I remembered seeing the book with a tie-in cover at a Walmart the previous month. I had almost picked up the book but decided against it at the last minute. Of course, I had regretted it after viewing the Netflix film, and luckily for me, the store still had the book in stock.