Diabolique (1955)

Une baignoire? Diabolique!

Un costume d'homme? Diabolique!

Une malle en osier? Diabolique!

Une piscine? Diabolique!

Now that was a big ol bite to chew on, and damn it tasted good. Watching this nearly gave me a heart condition but it was well worth it. This is the stuff of dreams, both because it is a fabulous film, perfectly done, but also because it makes you feel as though you're misremembering the whole thing. The story really takes its time folding you into the world so that you nearly forget you put on a mystery flick in the first place. Your heart will wrench at the ugly reminder of what it meant to be a woman in the 50s, and you'll probably wonder if it's going to get gay at all- tragically it doesn't. You'll need to read the novel for that. About a third of the way through, you'll remember in delight, "Oh, yes! We're really going to murder this guy!" and then everything you'd expect to happen, happens. And then, everything you don't expect to happen, happens. I'd say more, but HG Clouzot swore me to secrecy at the end.