Purple Noon

Clément keeps the surface dazzling while menace hums below. Decaë shoots blue seas, razor-crease suits and airy interiors so crisp you miss the knife. Delon’s Ripley moves with feline poise; Ronet’s louche playboy spots the teeth too late. A few slack spells stop it from greatness, yet beside the glossy remakes this stays cooler, leaner and more unsettling. If Ripley ever needed a passport mugshot, this would be it.