Spellbound (1945)

Ingrid Bergman in Spellbound

Bloody hell. This is such sexist shite. It’s embarrassing. Everybody tells Constance she’s just a silly woman in love and she is. Despite being a fucking psychiatrist. The psychoanalysis is painful, the score is over wrought, the acting abysmal, the dialogue poor.

There is a hilarious moment when a photo of a glamorous looking Bergman is defaced with a pair of spectacles as if she was Clark Kent and was unrecognisable otherwise.

The ending with Constance confronting Dr Murchison is effective but otherwise the film is boring and annoying.