The atmosphere of this film creeped me out as a kid. Now, it looks like a very silly, flimsy, melodramatic picture, whose Freudian psychoanalytic detective work sounds as pseudo-scientific as anything in a cheesy 50s atomic monster movie. The form, however, is strong, and with the involvement of Bergman, Selznick, and Dali, it's Canonical by default. If only it latched onto the irrationality under the surface.
Cute but it’s so bad the script was written like Hitchcock was in a rush to play out the geeky Freudian fantasies in his head. That aside, Ingrid Bergman saved this movie (and her husband) but not before being constantly minimized, dismissed, and objectified by her fellow doctors, patients, and her husband as well. Her love is only a vehicle for his self-actualization and little justice was done to her character
One of the few times I’ve been truly disappointed with one of Hitchcock's films. The only real reason to watch this one is for the Dali dream sequences (which are super cool. So just find them online somewhere.) and Bergman. It wasn’t particularly suspenseful and the script was lame. Also, the misogyny was laid on so thick I couldn’t ignore it this time. 3 stars for Dali.