Classic Rewind: I Confess (1953)

Alfred Hitchcock's formal, functional I Confess is an especially atypical entry into the portly director's oeuvre, not because it isn't any less fascinating or lacking in technical skill, but because  this half-thriller, with its moral crisis through-line and overt Catholic symbolism, feels far removed from the kind of crafty, playful, bewildering suspense-thrillers that we're accustomed to. 
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Perhaps another reason for its relative curiousness is the fact that it's the only Hitch film (in a career full of cozy, recognizable performers) featuring either Montgomery Clift or Anne Baxter. The director reportedly never got along with method actors, and it was no different with Monty, who nevertheless gives a strong, subdued performance.
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He plays Michael Logan, a young Catholic priest in lovely Quebec City (beautifully shot on location) who hears the confession of the rectory caretaker who has just committed murder. Unable to speak on the matter (which would break his vow of secrecy), Michael not only cannot help the investigators who question him, but cannot defend himself when he becomes the prime suspect. 
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While on one hand, this feels like the typical Hitchcock "wrong man" template (seen routinely throughout his career), I Confess is more of a crisis of an ethical, moral and especially spiritual nature. Break the vow and pronounce your innocence or remain silent and implicate yourself to murder?
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It's also very much a Catholic film, and considering this isn't Martin Scorsese, it sure is a bit startling to see a director like Alfred Hitchcock compose a shot like the one where we see Michael walking across the street in the background with a large silhouette sculpture of Christ dragging the cross behind him in the foreground. 
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And as the film assuredly rolls to its conclusion (and Father Logan's dilemma becomes more pressing), these images become more and more prevalent, especially during the climactic trial which precedes the film's final scene of absolution. 
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No, it's certainly not one of the director's most artful, enthralling or beguiling works, nor is it one of his most identifiable, yet I Confess ends up being, in my estimation, nearly as successful for what it is - an astute, spiritual human drama. [B]